"Is this Mr. Song?"
The voice on the other end of the phone was Mr. Turner with a bit of an Irish accent.
It was quite a surprise for Song Heping to receive a call from Turner at this time.
"Mr. Turner? Yes, I'm Song Heping."
"I heard the news that you wiped out the Freedom Army last night?"
"Not wiped out, just took down its headquarters."
Song Heping quickly corrected, but wondered why the old man was so eager to call and ask about this.
Indeed.
The attack on the Freedom Army was carried out by "Musician" Defense, but absolutely no one knew about the Persians' cooperation results with him.
Therefore, he didn't conceal it; when he returned to the oilfields, he emailed a report of the situation to Wood Energy's branch office in Baghdad.
After all, it was a matter of establishing authority, intended to warn those demons and monsters at the borders not to think about causing trouble at the oilfields all the time.
Unexpectedly, Turner actually called personally to inquire about it.
"Mr. Turner, I have already explained clearly in the report that because this organization repeatedly attacked our oilfields and caused certain losses, for future security, we took the initiative to strike and eliminated their management..."
"Oh! I read the report," Turner said, "You misunderstood, I am not here to ask for an explanation about that matter. There is a pool party tonight at the Republic Palace, and I have a few old friends who want to meet you."
Perhaps Turner was worried that Song Heping wouldn't come, so he especially stressed the importance of coming to Baghdad.
"These are all heads of major companies involved in the reconstruction projects in Illiguo. Meeting them would be beneficial for you."
By now, the message was very clear.
That is, these are all high-ranking officials from major companies; you should come and meet them, otherwise, not only is it disrespectful if I don't say it myself, but you would also miss an opportunity.
Song Heping certainly wouldn't refuse; he had even thought that Turner might think he was too impulsive in taking down the headquarters of the Freedom Army.
So, it was business introductions?!
Alright then!
It was still a pool party.
The pool parties at the Republic Palace were indeed places where prominent people went.
High-ranking officials from the Temporary Management Committee, senior US Army officers stationed in Iraq, top United Security Council officials, and various PMC company executives, if not, at least prominent journalists from major media.
"Good, I'll head back immediately."
"OK, then we'll meet by the pool at eight tonight. Oh, one more thing. I secured two spots for your company, and the invitation has been faxed to your office. Just pick it up when you return."
"Thank you, Mr. Turner, I will definitely be there tonight."
The two ended the call, and the chef came over to ask, "What's up? Was that Turner? What does the old man want? Does he know about the Artie Village matter?"
"Yes. He knows," Song Heping replied, holding his phone but thinking about the meeting tonight, "Turner invited me back to Baghdad, to a cocktail party by the pool at the Republic Palace tonight."
"A cocktail party?"
The chef's eyes lit up.
"That's where all the big shots go."
Song Heping saw it.
The chef was excited.
He wanted to go.
After all, the chef was the most suited for these kinds of social gatherings.
When he saw Nancy last time, with just a few words and a couple of dishes from home, he had that old woman beaming with joy.
In this regard, Song Heping admitted he couldn't compare to the chef.
"Let's go together."
"Great!"
The cook immediately instructed White Bear, "Keep a close watch on the oil fields tonight, I'm going to the Republic Palace with Song."
White Bear was displeased, "Why do you get to enjoy yourself while we're out here eating dust and wind? Song, take me with you. I've never been to a pool party at the Republic Palace! I heard there are beauties..."
He hadn't finished his sentence when White Bear started screaming.
His ear had been twisted into a pretzel by Yuliya, who was nearby.
"Andre, you're acting like I don't exist, huh?!"
"Ouch... Yuliya... let go... I was just talking... my ear's about to come off, you crazy woman..."
Mr. Song had long grown accustomed to White Bear and his wife's unique way of flirting and squabbling.
Lovers, you know, they fight, they get upset, and then they make up with hugs and kisses.
Nothing that a good press on the mattress couldn't solve, and if that didn't work, just press a few more times...
So he said to the cook, "Let's go, we still have to check how the new rented office building is coming along after we get back."
The new office was rented by Ferrari, located in the southeastern part of the Green Zone near the Tigris River.
The rent here was pretty expensive.
But...
Lately, Mr. Song had run into good luck; the house was found by Yusuf.
Originally a three-story building, it was an ex-barracks used for the Republic Palace guards' breaks, now vacant.
A house that was $3000 a month, now rented to Mr. Song and his team for just $1000.
Where else could you find such a deal?
This made Mr. Song have to admit, you rely on your parents at home, and on your brothers outside.
Without parents, he could only rely on his brothers in this life.
The return trip to Baghdad was fairly smooth.
The US Army had recently intensified their offensive against cities in the northwest, and to transport troops, they increased security on roads leading to Mosul. There were checkpoints every few kilometers, with Country M's soldiers alongside ICDC troops conducting strict checks on passing vehicles and blocking any road leading to combat zones from any non-military traffic.
After reaching the Baghdad City area, everyone's tense nerves could finally relax a bit.
After all, it was Baghdad, the capital, where security was relatively better compared to other places.
The SUV was driving east through the city roads, about six kilometers from the Green Zone, when suddenly, gunshots rang out without warning.
"To the side! To the side!"
Once he judged the gunshots were still far from his off-roader and that their location was not the direct scene of the incident, Mr. Song immediately ordered the cook to pull the vehicle over to the side.
At that moment, there were residential houses on either side of the road, with trees next to them.
Since it was afternoon and traffic was heavy, turning back was definitely not an option.
The safest thing to do was to seek cover on the roadside.
The gunfire definitely wasn't targeted at them, it sounded a couple hundred meters away.
They just had to be wary of stray bullets.
As long as they weren't hit by stray bullets, it was usually very safe.
The three parked their car beside a tree and quickly found a house corner to hide behind.
Mr. Song and the cook each took responsibility for watching one direction, while Ferrari, only having a handgun, was sandwiched between the two.
The three of them were rather calm.
Since it wasn't directed at them, they just needed to wait for ten to twenty minutes. Either the US Army or an ICDC patrol would arrive at the scene, and then they could leave.
All three of them had legal documents, the soldiers wouldn't give them a hard time.
This type of attack is quite common in Illiguo.
Sometimes, while driving, gunfire breaks out ahead, and if the cars behind can turn around, they do; if not, they find a place to hide.
Once the front settles down, the dead are dead, and those who are meant to escape have escaped, the armed militants have also slipped away, then they come out and continue on their way.
It's war.
It makes people numb.
When Song Heping first witnessed an attack in Illiguo, he was especially nervous.
Now, it's as common as seeing a traffic accident.
"I wonder who the unlucky victim of the attack is this time."
The cook and Ferrari are actually so bored that they start making bets at the corner of the wall.
"Let's make a bet, guess if it's someone from the US Army or the ICDC?"
Because these two are the most likely to get attacked on the road.
"How much are we talking?"
"200 US Dollars."
"I'd say it's the US Army."
"I bet it's the ICDC."
Eventually, the cook asked Song Heping, "Song, are you betting?"
Song Heping said, "Temporary Management Committee officials, but the position isn't high."
The cook frowned, "Why?"
Song Heping said, "Didn't you hear the gunfire has decreased? It's still moving, indicating that the attackers are fleeing. Such brief gunfire, it's a sneak attack, an assassination. If the attack had been on the US Army or ICDC, the gunfire would have lasted longer and usually, there would be roadside bombs involved."
"Makes sense!"
Enlightened, the cook nodded.
"The expert is truly an expert!"
Ferrari, not convinced, said, "It might not be right! Let's wait till the gunfire stops, and then go check it out."
The three of them were bold indeed.
Less than five minutes later, the gunfire did indeed stop.
The numb crowd began to walk to the roadside to look in the direction of the firefight.
No one dared get back on the road just yet.
To verify the results, Ferrari drove towards the site of the gunfire.
Song Heping and the cook loaded their guns, ready for a fight at any moment.
After driving less than three hundred meters, the three saw the scene of the gunfire.
A black Honda was stopped on the road, its right side door open, a portly middle-aged man face down beside the car, his back covered in bullet holes, blood pooled around him.
Inside the Honda, the driver lay back in his seat, mouth slightly open, eyes wide with terror, unblinking, his chest covered in blood, the windshield pocked with bullet holes, the man clearly dead...
"Not a person from the ICDC, nor the US Army..."
Song Heping looked at the body sprawled on the ground, filled with mixed emotions.
Two lives lost in less than five minutes of combat.
Just like that, they were gone.
This man, he must have had a family too...
Afterward, they returned to the Green Zone without further incidents.
"This new office is pretty nice!"
The cook walked into the new office, very pleased with the surroundings.
Song Heping thought it was just average.
Though it was definitely much better than a container house.
The ground floor was the office area, with several desks each equipped with a computer. There were also printers, fax machines, and the like, all readily available.
It looked like a real company.
At the back of the first floor was a separate office.
Inside were two executive chairs and two large desks, each with a computer.
It actually looked pretty legitimate.
The three of them went upstairs.
The second floor was the residential area.
Since this place was originally used for security duty, the interior was structured like a barracks; with beds and cabinets added, it was indistinguishable from an ordinary barracks room.
"Tomorrow I'll take you to see our newly leased Yelda Warehouse, which will serve as our assembly point. Local mercenaries hired by the company can gather there for missions; this will save a lot of trouble."
Ferrari explained his plan.
Because entering the Green Zone was cumbersome.
Getting passes for several hundred local mercenaries from Illiguo was not only complicated, but if any of those hundreds caused trouble, "Musician" Defense wouldn't be able to shirk responsibility.
In a place like Illiguo, no one can guarantee that mercenaries hired wouldn't have some kind of private links to certain organizations.
This was a necessary precaution.
After checking out the new office, the group went to a restaurant in the Green Zone for some food and sat there until 7:50 PM, when Ferrari drove the two to the Republic Palace.
The guards checked their invitation cards before allowing them to enter the palace.
The swimming pool was located right in the front garden of the Republic Palace.
Since the palace and nearby buildings were currently used by the Temporary Management Committee and the provisional government, and even the headquarters of the stationed allied forces were here, the security was extremely tight. Unlike the chaotic scenes outside the Green Zone, peace and festivities prevailed here, with banquets and parties held every few days.
The parties usually took place at the poolside garden with long tables set up, filled with pastries, snacks, and various drinks such as champagne and wine.
Although alcohol was regulated in Illiguo due to religious reasons, this was the Green Zone.
The Green Zone was a special area.
People here had privileges.
Not just alcohol, if you had money, you could get women and drugs in Baghdad.
This is a crazy world.
Upon entering the big gate of the Republic Palace, Song Heping and the cook headed straight for the pool.
Since Mr. Turner had arranged to meet at the poolside party, he would definitely be there.
When the two were still about twenty meters away from the pool, they suddenly saw a dispute at the poolside, with a bunch of people watching from the side.
"A quarrel?"
Song Heping was surprised.
All high officials here, and they couldn't hold back from arguing in public?
Where was their decorum?
But when he clearly saw who was the main character in the quarrel, he was immediately stunned.
Yusuf?!
Why was it him?!