The small bungalow had hidden depths; inside, there was no furniture, just a chaotic mess resembling a junk pile. The contact, Mira, moved a table from the corner, lifted the carpet, and removed a wooden board to reveal the entrance to an underground passage.
"Go down."
He gestured for Song Heping and Mist to enter.
Song Heping said to Mist, "You go first."
Mist didn't move.
Mira noticed the hesitation of the two men.
Actually, what Song Heping meant was for Mist to go down first, and he would follow after Mira.
The benefit of doing this, of course, was to avoid any accidents.
As for what kind of accident…
It was that no place and no one could be completely trusted.
If Mira couldn't be relied on and the two naively went straight into the basement, and someone behind them shut the door and threw in a Hand Grenade, then they'd ascend to heaven to meet their ancestors.
Mira probably guessed their line of thinking.
He took the initiative to go down first, which made Song Heping and Mist feel slightly embarrassed.
"Get in."
Mist shrugged, picked up his gun, and went in.
Song Heping looked at the donkey and said, "Good luck."
Then he followed down as well.
The basement wasn't large, about ten square meters. A filthy carpet was laid on the ground, and a homemade wooden table sat on one side with a radio on it, covered with bowls and plates in disarray, apparently for eating.
In a corner lay a pillow and a rolled-up blanket so dirty that its color was indiscernible.
"Just find a place to sit down, I'll take you to the drop zone tonight," Mira said, not a man of many words. He closed the entrance to the passage, leaned his gun against the wall, and then turned on a dim electric light.
"How come there's still power?"
Song Heping was surprised, his eyes falling on a battery in the corner.
Indeed, it was running on a battery.
He couldn't help but become a bit interested in Mira.
So he asked, "Mira, are you local?"
"Yes."
While answering, Mira went to the two bags of naan, picked up a piece, and asked Song Heping, "Can I eat?"
"Of course, you can," Song Heping replied.
Mira took the naan, walked to the table, and pulled out a kettle from underneath it, pouring some water into a bowl.
He was very careful when pouring the water, as if spilling a single drop would be a crime.
After pouring less than half a bowl for himself, he looked at Song Heping and Mist, grabbed two more bowls, and filled them.
"Have some water," Mira offered, placing the water in front of them.
Song Heping carried a water flask and wasn't short of water.
But hard to decline a kindness, it was a matter of politeness, so he couldn't refuse.
Therefore, he took the bowl and took a sip.
The water tasted strange, with a hint of earthy fishiness.
Mist took a sip and immediately scrunched up his brow, setting the bowl aside.
Suddenly remembering something, Song Heping asked, "Where do you usually get water?"
"The water plant was bombed, the tap water stopped. There's a well three hundred meters away where you can get water... but it's not safe there anymore. Now that the city is in chaos, there's fighting during the day, and at night going out means risking getting shot. So I only go to fetch water every two or three days. People used to take turns..."
At this point, Mira suddenly stopped talking, a shade of sadness in his eyes.
Song Heping had a rough idea.
He'd heard that the CIA had more than one informer here, but those sent to scout the city center had all died, none returned alive.
Song Heping asked, "How many months have you been here?"
"I've been here since before the siege," Mira answered. "After the siege began, I've never left."
That had been several months.
Song Heping's curiosity intensified.
Of course, he knew many locals in Illiguo joined the coalition as informants since the coalition paid well.
But in his view, Mira wasn't simply motivated by money.
This man was interesting.
Perhaps he truly despised the Sadam regime.
Otherwise, who would be willing to stay in such a sunless, Godforsaken place for months on end to provide information to the CIA while avoiding detection by armed personnel? Under such oppressive conditions, lasting a month without going mad would constitute toughness.
The few in the basement chatted sporadically.
Suddenly, they heard intense explosions from above.
As the explosions sounded, dust cascaded down from the ceiling of the basement.
Both Song Heping and Mist instinctively shifted from sitting to a half-kneeling position.
This was a natural reaction for a Professional Soldier.
Mira reassured, "It's fine, unless they use ground penetrating bombs to blast this area, we won't be harmed. You've seen the building next to us, even if it collapses, we'll still be safe."
Song Heping checked his watch.
It was nine in the morning.
It seemed that the coalition forces had launched a new round of sweeps in Mosul.
But none of this had anything to do with them.
Now was not their time to move out, they had to wait, wait for nightfall.
Song Heping simply closed his eyes to rest.
After a night of busyness, fatigue washed over him like a tidal wave.
Soon, he fell asleep.
By the time he woke up again, dusk had already settled in.
Mira squatted by the table eating naan and handed one to him upon seeing he was awake, "Eat something, we have to go out in a couple of hours."
Song Heping's heart stirred and he hurriedly took out a ration pack from his tactical bag and handed it to Mira.
"Eat this."
Mira eyed the ration pack, seemingly greatly tempted.
Song Heping seemed to realize something and mentioned that it was beef.
Only then did Mira take it, tore open the seal, poured out the various packets inside, and started to devour the contents.
Song Heping himself ate some biscuits, drank some functional beverages, and finally stuffed two energy bars into his mouth.
He didn't like to eat too much before an operation, maintaining a certain level of fullness was enough. This was to prevent vomiting after vigorous movement in case of an emergency.
By seven in the evening, Mira finally climbed the stairs to the exit for observation and turned back to the two people in the basement, "We can leave now."
The three emerged from the underground tunnel; the donkey was still there but looked somewhat panicked.
Mira gave the animal some water, and it calmed down.
"Hide the guns well, let's go."
Song Heping took the tarp that was originally covering the bottom of the cart, placed it on top of the flatbed, and hid the MK18 assault rifle and tactical bag underneath it. Inside his long robe, he only hid a pistol.
The three got onto the cart, this time with Mira driving because he knew the roads in this area better.
After leaving the yard, the donkey cart trundled north along the decrepit streets.
"We have to get to the airdrop point quickly. They are usually praying and dining at this time. They will probably start patrolling later, and encountering them at night would be very dangerous."
The airdrop point wasn't far from Mira's courtyard.
About a kilometer away.
It was an open space near the Tigris River, a grassy area by the riverbank.
They found a spot with dense wild grass, led the donkey cart in there and tied it up, then they hid themselves as well.
The airdrop was scheduled for eight o'clock sharp.
There were about 25 minutes left until the airdrop.
Song Heping was always keeping an eye on the time because at 7:55 p.m., he needed to aim the laser designator at the sky so that the plane could spot their location and guide the airdrop.
If the timing was not accurate, the airdrop could fail.
Night had just fallen, and the insects in the grass were fierce, buzzing around like dive bombers, one after the other crashing into his face.
To maintain silence, they couldn't even use their hands to swat them, for fear of making noise.
No one knew if armed individuals were passing by nearby.
Because they were not wearing combat uniforms or field scarves, Song Heping could only shrink as much as possible into his robe to avoid getting bitten all over.
Finally, the time came to 7:40 p.m.
Song Heping took out the laser designator from his pocket, checked the battery and switch to make sure there were no issues, then held it in his hand, ready to guide from the ground at the appointed time.
"Someone's coming."
Mist, who was positioned at the front, issued a low warning.
Song Heping raised his head, his gaze piercing through the gaps in the grass, landing on the sandy path near the riverbank far away.
That was the road they had taken earlier.
Now, two armed individuals appeared, walking along the path, apparently on patrol.
The coalition's sweeping operations had concluded before nightfall, as usual, since they were concerned about sniper and armed organization attacks, so they had all pulled back outside the city.
During the day, the city belonged to the coalition forces.
At night, it was the domain of the armed organizations.
"Just wait for them to pass."
Song Heping estimated the speed of the individuals.
In a dozen minutes or so, they should have walked away.
The two armed individuals chatted and laughed as they walked; there were times when laughter could be heard as if they were discussing something amusing.
As Song Heping had assessed, it wasn't long before they reached the west side of the path and continued a few more meters before turning into a clump of grass. There was a road leading into the town there, and they would no longer notice that the place they had just passed was actually hiding two special soldiers who had infiltrated the area.
"Okay, they're gone."
Mira finally breathed a sigh of relief.
But just as their heightened tension finally began to subside, something unexpected happened.