Today was a particularly good day.
Three joys have come at once.
The first joy, of course, was the inclusion of Ferrari.
A meeting of great minds and equals.
Before this, although the "Musicians" claimed to be a Mercenary Group, they were actually just a small band of unorganized soldiers.
But starting from today, things seemed to have changed a bit.
The cook had paid a price of $100,000 for Ferrari to go to Bermuda to set up an offshore investment fund and then placed the company in French Guiana.
Although $100,000 nearly emptied the cook's pockets, Song Heping thought it was very worthwhile.
The addition of a doctor to the team made them seem much more impressive.
Moreover, $100,000 was a large sum just a few days ago, but today it was just small change.
After all, times had changed.
Now the "Musicians" Mercenary Group really had confidence.
This confidence came from the hefty reward they received for capturing Sayif, who was on the playing card wanted list.
Before everyone could go find a nice restaurant to celebrate the establishment of the company, a call came from the Temporary Management Committee, asking everyone to go and collect their rewards and announcing there would be a small award ceremony to make it grand.
"We can collect the money now?!"
White Bear immediately got excited.
"Their efficiency really is quick this time!"
In Baghdad, the war had paralyzed the original administrative structures, and most of the former employees were either dead or had fled, and of course, there were also those who defected to the US Army, which the US Army used as capital for reconstruction.
But as for efficiency...
A government that had been ravaged by war and only just restructured a few months ago, what more could you expect?
Song Heping said, "I reckon we still have to thank Angel for this."
The cook said, "Exactly, if it wasn't for her news hitting the headlines, do you think those folks in Langley would let us get the reward so quickly?"
"Then what are we waiting for?!" White Bear said, "I don't care what they think, I just want to get that money now!"
The group didn't delay any longer and immediately got in the car to head to the Republic Palace.
The Republic Palace was the location of the Temporary Management Committee, and the ceremony was held in a large hall on the third floor.
When Song Heping and his team arrived, they were stopped by the security on the first floor; after explaining their purpose and having their credentials checked, even their handguns were confiscated.
"Firearms are strictly prohibited here!"
Even with passes and gun permits, the guards were still strictly business.
Everyone cooperated and handed over their firearms.
Indeed, being cautious was understandable.
The current security situation in Guyana was as bad as it could get.
Attacks occurred daily.
Especially the local officials in the Temporary Management Committee in Guyana, who were prime targets for attacks.
After all, in the eyes of Sadam's Suicide Squad and some armed organizations supporting the former government, officials who defected to the United States were seen as traitors.
Assassinating traitors was considered justifiable and even honorable in the context of any war in any country.
Just this month alone, there were 12 attacks against officials of the Temporary Management Committee, resulting in 10 deaths and 2 severe injuries.
After handing over their guns, the workers took them to the second floor and asked them to wait there, mentioning that the official hosting the award ceremony had a meeting that hadn't ended yet.
This was Song Heping's first time entering the interior of the Republic Palace.
Before, his pass level in the Green Zone wasn't sufficient to enter core areas like the Republic Palace; he could only look at it as he passed by.
The Republic Palace was a palace built with a hefty investment by Sadam, and Song Heping had long heard about the extent of its opulence.
Seeing is believing.
Song Heping indeed was stunned.
Everywhere he could see was golden.
The floor was entirely laid with marble.
Wherever gold could be set or engraved on the walls and the ceiling, gold was used.
"Is it possible to ask where the toilet is?"
White Bear suddenly asked the staff.
"I need to pee."
The staff member glanced at White Bear and pointed to the right, "Go through this hallway, walk about ten meters, and there will be a toilet on the left."
White Bear chuckled, "I am looking for the one with the gold toilet…"
The other person gave a knowing smile, seemingly not the first time someone had made such a request.
"All the toilets here are gilded, the one made of gold…"
He spread his hands and shook his head, but still didn't reveal the whereabouts of that gold toilet.
White Bear was somewhat disappointed.
After all, it was rare to come here and not being able to pee in that world-famous gold toilet probably made this guy quite disappointed.
"Song, are you coming?"
He invited Song Heping like he was inviting him to a lavish banquet.
"Yes."
Although Song Heping didn't urgently need to pee, he decided to go anyway.
He also wanted to see for himself just how opulent the palace of the president who had ruled Illiguo for 24 years really was.
The two men followed the staff's directions and entered the hallway on the left.
The pillars of the long corridor were all made of solid white marble, the walls decorated with Middle-Eastern religious murals. What caught Song Heping's attention the most was a mural that had nothing to do with religion, depicting several missiles soaring into the air, its bizarre style clashing with the palace's luxury.
As the staff member had said, all the toilets here were gilded.
In the dazzling gold restroom, facing the glittering toilet, Song Heping took out his 'tool' and amidst the blinding gold, he had a torrential release that felt almost surreal.
Next door, White Bear moaned contentedly.
He chose to let it all go.
Through the wall, one could hear his ecstatic moans.
Just as the two men finished and returned to the lobby, a staff member came over to inform them that the official responsible for giving the awards was now available; they were requested to go to the third floor.
When everyone reached the hall on the third floor, they saw a pile of money.
Cash.
US dollars.
Brand new, still wrapped in plastic film, US dollars.
After a round of polite ceremonies, the money finally made its way into everyone's hands.
A few people each stacked theirs into a pre-prepared black cloth bag, exiting the building like robbers who had just completed a major heist from a bank.
As they left the gates of the Republic Palace, White Bear couldn't resist unzipping and burying his head into the pile of crisp new US dollars, taking a deep breath and growling in delight, "This is the smell of money… oh, it's so sweet…"
Song Heping also held a whole bag of US dollars.
His palms were sweaty.
He had never held so much money in his life.
Five million dollars, which would be more than forty million in RMB.
More than forty million...
An ordinary person working hard all their life couldn't earn that much...
Looking at it this way, the PMC industry did seem promising.
Suddenly, the satellite phone in his pocket began to vibrate.
Song Heping answered it and heard Angel on the other end.
With a tone seeking to take credit, the Western woman said to Song Heping, "Song, make preparations. At three-thirty this afternoon, Aunt Nancy will be at the Green Zone. You will have fifteen minutes to meet with her, but only two people can come. You must be there, and you decide who the other person is."