Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1412 Morality and Money

My phone suddenly vibrated. It was a message from Samir: "The situation in Mosul is complicated, storage space is insufficient, and political pressure is increasing. Return immediately to discuss this."

Song Heping replied: "Return tomorrow morning. Prepare contingency plans."

He put away his phone and said to Jiang Feng, "Tell the brothers to get a good rest tonight. Tomorrow I'll take half the men back to Mosul, and you stay here to continue supervising the inventory. Remember, if there are any problems, give way first, record the evidence, and deal with them afterward. Right now, the most important thing is to keep the process running smoothly."

"What if they push their luck?" Jiang Feng asked.

“Then pay up. Problems that can be solved with money aren’t problems. Compared to profits, what are a million dollars?” Song Heping said calmly. “In this system, money can solve 99% of the problems. The remaining 1% requires more money.”

Jiang Feng looked at him and suddenly asked, "Old squad leader, when did we become like this?"

Song Heping was taken aback: "What do you mean?"

"Paying money to corrupt officials, tacitly allowing equipment to be switched, accepting sensitive weapons of dubious origin..." Jiang Feng's voice was very soft: "We weren't like this before."

The night wind blew by, bringing the chill of the desert.

Song Heping remained silent for a long time.

"Do you know when I first sold arms?" he finally said. "In 2005, the weapons and equipment were stolen for me by Yusuf from a former government army surplus warehouse. A batch of AK rifles, the buyer was a representative of a drug cartel in South America. After the deal was completed, I asked him: What will these guns be used for? He laughed and said: Kill people, what else can they be used for?"

"I couldn't sleep all night. I felt like I had become an accomplice to the executioner."

Song Heping looked at the lights in the distance and sneered.

"But then I realized. If I don't sell, others will. Even if those guns don't leave Iligo, they'll leave from Romania, Bulgaria, Russia, and other places. The violence in this world won't decrease one bit because of my moral fastidiousness."

Jiang Feng asked, "So we're just going to go with the flow?"

"No, we choose our own battlefield."

Song Heping sighed, unscrewed the cap of the mineral water bottle, and took a sip.

“I refuse to sell weapons to factions that use child soldiers. That’s all I can do; I can’t control the rest.”

Jiang Feng persisted: "And now? Bribing corrupt U.S. military officers, is that also your principle?"

Song Heping's smile lost its warmth: "Now we're in a much bigger game. This game is called national interest, geopolitics, and war economics. Here, there are no absolutely good or bad people, only interests and positions. Is the US military corrupt? Yes. Isn't it cruel? Yes! How many innocent civilians did they kill in the past few years? But then again, the 1515 militia isn't cruel or extreme; they just behead people. Saddam Hussein wasn't corrupt; he used chemical weapons to massacre the Kurds. In the Middle East, every single one of them, who is clean?"

He looked at Jiang Feng: "We're not saints. We're people who make a living in the gray area. Sometimes we have to get our hands dirty so that more important things can continue. How many people will die if this batch of weapons falls into 1515's hands? If we don't take it, someone else will. Can you guarantee that someone else will be better off than us?"

"So we're doing good deeds?" Jiang Feng asked sarcastically.

“We’re doing what’s necessary,” Song Heping corrected. “What’s necessary isn’t necessarily a good thing, but it’s something that must be done. Now, go and prepare the money. There are even tougher decisions to make tomorrow.”

Jiang Feng left, his silhouette stretching long under the searchlight.

Song Heping stood alone outside the warehouse, looking at the military base under the starry sky.

This massive machine, built with American taxpayers' money, is slowly crumbling before his eyes.

He is a scavenger, a vulture, a decomposer in the ecosystem, transforming the wreckage of dead war machines into new energy.

My phone vibrated again.

This time it's an unknown number.

“Mr. Song, this is Lieutenant Thompson.” The voice on the other end of the phone was tense. “I have information to sell you. It’s about Major Walker and Lieutenant Colonel Swift’s real plan. $50,000, cash, tonight.”

How do I know the information is worth that price?

“Because they don’t intend for you to take all the goods,” Thompson said. “Thirty percent of the equipment on the list has been marked ‘to be destroyed’ and will actually be moved to another location and sold to another buyer. You will only receive the remaining seventy percent, but pay one hundred percent of the money.”

Song Heping's heart skipped a beat: "Evidence?"

“I have photos of the warehouse transfer records, as well as emails between Walker and another buyer. $50,000, I’ll give you everything.”

"Where will the transaction take place?"

“The abandoned helicopter landing pad on the east side of the base, midnight. Come alone, bring cash.”

The phone hangs up.

Song Heping looked at his phone, and the screen slowly went dark.

He went back to his car and rummaged through the glove compartment, emptying several bundles of banknotes.

For an arms dealer and a PMC owner, cash is essential.

Especially when going out to conduct transactions, I don't feel at ease without carrying a hundred or a hundred thousand US dollars in cash.

He took out five stacks of $100 bills, each stack containing $10,000, and wrapped them in plastic.

Jiang Feng returned after finishing his work: "Whose call was that?"

“Lieutenant Thompson,” Song Heping said without hiding anything, “He wants to sell us some information about Walker and Swift’s real plans.”

Is it believable? It might be a trap.

"Who cares?" Song Heping stuffed the cash into his backpack: "I won't act until I see the profit."

"I'll go with you."

“No, he wants to be alone.” Song Heping slung his backpack over his shoulder. “You stay here. If I’m not back within an hour, activate the emergency plan, immediately stop all inventory checks, evacuate all personnel, and request support from Samir.”

"Old squad leader—"

“This is an order.” Song Heping put on his coat and checked the pistol magazine at his waist: “Remember, in this game, sometimes the biggest risk is not paying money, but not knowing the truth.”

He walked out of the office and disappeared into the Baghdad night.

In the distance, the base's lights resembled a giant ship stranded in the desert, slowly sinking into the quicksand of corruption and greed.

Midnight, an abandoned helicopter landing pad.

The moonlight was pale, and the wind whipped up sand and dust that stung people's faces.

Song Heping arrived ten minutes early and hid in a spot where he could observe the entire area.

At 11:58, a figure appeared at the edge of the tarmac.

It was Lieutenant Thompson, dressed in civilian clothes, carrying a satchel, and glancing around nervously every now and then.

Song Heping waited for five minutes to make sure there was no ambush before emerging from his hiding place.

"You're late." Thompson's voice trembled slightly.

“Caution is a virtue.” Song Heping put his backpack on the ground. “The money is here. Where are the things?” Thompson took out a thick envelope from his bag. “All the documents. Printouts of the warehouse transfer records, email screenshots, and a USB drive containing the original files.”

Song Heping took the envelope, turned on his flashlight, and quickly flipped through it.

The more he looked, the heavier his heart became.

Thompson was not lying.

The documents show that at least 40 percent of the equipment at the base has been marked as "to be destroyed" or "to be reassigned".

This includes Stryker armored vehicles, Javelin missile systems, and the latest batch of individual soldier equipment.

The transfer order was signed by Walker, and the approving authority was the Joint Logistics Processing Center of the U.S. Army in Iraq, a theoretically neutral organization.

Even more astonishing is the exchange of emails.

Walker and an email address "[email protected] contact person communicated frequently to discuss the "disposal plan for the remaining materials".

The latest email was sent three days ago:
"The buyer has arrived and is expected to complete a surface inventory within five days. The actual usable inventory has been transferred to Zone C-7 and is ready for a second transfer. The payment method is as originally planned: 50% prepayment to the Cayman account, with the balance due upon arrival at the Turkish border. Note: The buyer has military connections and may create a 'security incident' to interrupt the transfer if necessary."

Song Heping looked up: "Where is Zone C-7?"

"The northernmost enclosed area of ​​the base houses the natural weapons verification facility."

Thompson said, "That place was not part of the handover and had its own security, managed by Walker's cronies. I sneaked in once, and there were at least thirty Strykers, all the Javelin and Stinger missiles, and a whole batch of brand-new sniper rifles and sighting equipment."

"What are they planning to do with this shipment?"

“It’s transshipped through the Khord Autonomous Region to Turkey, and then shipped to Libya via a port,” Thompson said. “The buyer is a representative of the Libyan National Army and is willing to pay 30 percent more than you. Walker and Swift will take 15 percent of that.”

"Do the people at the Ministry of National Defense know about this?"

Thompson sneered: "Johnson and Miller? They were in charge of altering the documents to make the whole transfer legal on paper. The contractors were in charge of the actual moving and the spoofing. It's a complete chain, and everyone gets a piece of the pie."

Song Heping put the documents back in the envelope and pushed his backpack over: "The money's here. What are your plans?"

“I’m applying for emergency leave first thing tomorrow morning and going back to the United States.” Thompson picked up his backpack. “I’ve had enough. Five years. I’ve watched this system devour everything. Honest people are marginalized, while corrupt people rise through the ranks. I want to do something, but every attempt brings me closer to destruction. Now I just want to leave.”

"They might contact you."

“I know.” Thompson slung his backpack over his shoulder. “So I’m not going home. I’ll disappear for a while and wait until all of this is over.”

He turned to leave, then stopped. "Mr. Song, let me give you some advice. Walker isn't just greedy, he's ruthless. If he knows you've discovered the truth, he might take extreme measures. That transferred equipment... just pretend it never existed. Some battles can't be won."

Thompson disappeared into the night.

Song Heping stood there, clutching the envelope tightly in his hand.

Under the moonlight, the base's outline resembled a giant tomb, burying countless dollars, countless pieces of equipment, and the last vestiges of a superpower's dignity.

When he returned to the temporary office, Jiang Feng was waiting anxiously.

"How about it?"

Song Heping threw the envelope on the table: "Take a look at this."

Jiang Feng flipped through the documents, his face growing paler and paler: "Forty percent of the equipment... they never intended to give it to us in the first place?"

“Worse.” Song Heping sat down, rubbing his temples. “They plan to make us pay in full, then create a ‘security incident’—maybe an attack, maybe an accident—to disrupt the handover process. After that, they’ll declare the contract terminated due to force majeure, and we won’t get the remaining goods or recover the money we’ve already paid.”

"These bastards!" Jiang Feng slammed his fist on the table. "What do we do now? Notify the US embassy?"

"The embassy?" Song Heping laughed, his laughter full of sarcasm. "Who knows, maybe those bastards at the embassy have a stake in this too? Jiang Feng, Walker dared to do this, which means he has enough protection. Maybe his superiors were involved, maybe the entire US military supply handling system in Iraq is completely rotten. If we go to inform the embassy, ​​it's like walking into a trap."

"So you're just going to accept it? Suffer in silence?"

“No.” Song Heping’s eyes turned cold. “But we can’t play by their rules. They play bureaucracy, we can’t play that. They play legal procedures, we can’t play that. The only thing we can play is…”

He paused, then slowly said, "It's the law of the jungle."

Jiang Feng was stunned: "What do you mean?"

“That means we also need a Plan B.” Song Heping stood up and walked to the window: “How many troops does General Samir have available in Mosul?”

"In addition to border defenses and some units that cannot be mobilized, the 10th Division has 6,000 mobile troops."

“That’s enough,” Song Heping said. “Notify Samir that we need a rapid reaction force of about two thousand men, with the best equipment, ready to be deployed at any time. Also, contact our Kold’d allies and prepare an alternative transport route.”

"Are you going to rob me?"

“No, it’s a ‘protective takeover’,” Song Heping corrected. “If Walker and his men create a ‘security incident,’ then we’ll use security as a pretext to take control of all the equipment ahead of time. If they want to play dirty tricks, we’ll play even dirtier.”

Jiang Feng said with concern, "This is a direct confrontation with the US military. Even if it's just corrupt officers, the consequences could be very serious."

“So we need evidence.” Song Heping pointed to the envelope: “Make three copies of these documents, one for Samir, and one sent via encrypted channel to Angel in the United States. If something happens to us, let the whole world see what the US military did in Iligo.”

"This is the nuclear option. It's tantamount to flipping the table."

“So it’s just insurance,” Song Heping said. “Now, we need to continue playing our role: obedient buyers, willing suckers who are willing to pay. Starting tomorrow, speed up the inventory process and accept their explanations for all the problems. At the same time, have your two most astute men find out the situation in Sector C-7. They don’t need to go inside, just confirm that the equipment is still there, how many guards are there, and what security measures are in place.”

Jiang Feng replied, "Understood."

“In addition,” Song Heping added, “prepare an extra sum of cash, two hundred thousand US dollars. Give it to Lieutenant Colonel Swift separately tomorrow, saying it’s a special thank you for his ‘efficient coordination.’ See his reaction.”

Jiang Feng asked, "Why give him a separate sum? This guy colluded with Walker to set us up, and you're still giving him money?"

“Because he is the weakest link in this chain,” Song Heping analyzed. “Walker has powerful connections and is ruthless. The clerical staff are bureaucrats who are good at shirking responsibility. The contractors are businessmen who only care about money. But Swift… he is a coordinator, a middleman. Such people are usually the most eager for recognition and the easiest to bribe. If I can turn him into a double agent, we will have an inside man.”

Looking at his old squad leader, Jiang Feng suddenly realized that Song Heping was a man born for war.

In any war-torn region, his old sergeant could navigate it with ease and confidence.

He calculated every step, each person had a purpose, and every risk had a contingency plan.

“Old Sergeant,” he hesitated for a moment, “are you sure you want to do this? Even if we take 30% less, our profits will still be considerable. If we do this, and intercept and seize Walker’s military train convoy midway, who knows how bad the consequences might be.”

Song Heping turned around and looked into the distance.

The moonlight cast a deep shadow on his profile.

“I have to set an example for everyone, showing them what happens if they dare to cheat me, whether it’s the US military or the CIA. Otherwise, we’ll become notorious suckers in this industry.”

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(End of this chapter)