Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 722: Bloodshed in the Fishing Village

In the twilight, the waves of Tina Bay were shimmering with blood-red light. Song Heping squatted in the toilet at the easternmost end of the fishing village with a satellite phone in his hand. His nostrils were filled with the salty and fishy smell brought by the sea breeze and the stench rising from the open underground pit. A group of flies buzzed around above his head, as dense as the bombers that descended on the city during World War II.

The laughter from the distant bonfire party mixed with the sound of the waves, coming into his ears in waves, but he was talking to Ferrari about a big plan calculated in billions of dollars.

This is the second day of rest in the small fishing village.

Tomorrow night, according to Noura's plan, everyone will go to the seaside and board the smuggling group's small fishing boat, load the arms into the cabin, and go south along the coastline into northern Egypt, where someone will pick them up for delivery.

After the task is completed, the Bedouin smuggling group will have completed their mission and can receive the remuneration agreed upon in advance.

In the past two days, Song Heping's physical strength has been fully restored, and Sarah has gradually improved under the careful care of the villagers in the fishing village. This morning, she was able to get up early and move around the village with the help of others.

Everything seems to be changing for the better.

But Song Heping did not dare to let his guard down at all.

Neither Mossad nor the CIA will let him off so easily.

Calmness may be like the moment before a storm, always so abnormal.

He has been very busy these two days and keeps in touch with Ferrari every day.

Ferrari has been busy these past two days.

Busy laundering money.

Song Heping asked him to transfer at least US$1 billion of funds to Zdong so that he could use it in the area later.

Ferrari did not disappoint.

This German guy with partial Chinese ancestry does things with both the flexibility of a Chinese and the rigor of a German.

Money laundering sounds simple, but it is actually a technical job.

To launder a billion dollars to the East, the best destination is Dubai.

That's right.

It is the current hot spot for East Asian investment - Dubai.

The hottest industries there right now are finance and real estate.

Dubai, which suddenly emerged in the Middle East, is actually a holy place for money laundering.

Between 07 and 08, we can learn from public figures that the top five developers in Dubai delivered as many as apartments. House prices doubled in just five years, as if all the wealthy people and hot money in the world were flocking there.

In Dubai, there are currently about 80 private developers selling their homes, which means that even if no new projects are launched in the next two years, at least 18 homes will be put on the market. Dubai has a population of about 130 million, most of whom are expatriates working or investing here.

In the next two years, investment bank analysis reports predict that rents here will increase by 70-100%.

When a bubble is formed, it will usually burst and collapse, but this possibility does not exist in Dubai at present because there is another industry that is quite developed here, that is the financial industry.

Here, banks have extremely lax scrutiny over funds, so a large amount of funds of unknown origin are able to flow in. Even if you open a bank account in Dubai with tens of millions of dollars, the account manager will simply ask you where your money comes from and make up an excuse - earned from gold mining in Africa, or profits from running tobacco farms in Zimbabwe.

No matter how ridiculous the excuse is, they will say "OK" and then quickly open an account for the customer.

The wildly rising housing prices and the open, unobstructed and uncensored financial and banking industry make this place meet all the needs for money laundering.

Once the funds enter the hidden unit in Dubai, they will enter the housing market through real estate investment and sell it after holding it for a few months.

With each inflow and outflow, the funds will be laundered immediately.

Ferrari has been doing this kind of crap these days.

Every day at dinner time, he would call to report to Song Heping on the progress of the day's work and how many billions he had laundered to Dubai.

Song Heping squatted on the toilet and defecated, listening to Ferrari talking about billions of dollars, when he suddenly had a strange idea - it turns out that no matter how rich you are, you still have to go to the toilet to defecate, and when the need arises, no matter whether it is a gold-lined toilet or the grass in the wild, the pleasure obtained is the same, there is not much difference.

Suddenly, a jackdaw flew away in fright.

Song Heping glanced in that direction and found that the startled birds were obviously not a normal phenomenon.

blah blah-

I vaguely heard a familiar voice in my ears.

Silencer!?

Song Heping's hair immediately stood up. He wiped his butt roughly and pulled up his pants as quickly as possible.

Through the toilet wall woven with palm leaves, he saw several dark shadows moving quickly with their waists hunched on the rocky beach thirty meters away.

The moonlight danced on the shoulders of those people, reflecting the unique outline of the M4A1.

He cursed under his breath, his right hand already reaching for his lower back.

However, he touched nothing.

I don't have any weapons...

Just by twisting his waist, several dry branches under his feet broke, making a slight crackling sound.

The sound of breaking was particularly harsh in the silence. The nearest black shadow turned suddenly, and the flames from the silencer bloomed into three orange flowers in the night.

Sawdust flew.

Song Heping rolled out of the toilet sideways, and bullets chased his heels and dug into the sand.

The salty and humid sea breeze was mixed with the smell of fresh blood - fifty meters away, on the abandoned lighthouse, Uncle Hassan, who was supposed to be on duty there, was lying on his back, with blood still gushing from the wound in his throat.

"There's an attack." The shout was interrupted by a second burst of gunfire.

Song Heping's temples were throbbing as he saw clearly the attacker's attire: desert camouflage combat uniform.

The tactical vests were printed with the crescent and scimitar logo, and they were the elite commandos of the Puntland pirates.

From the direction of the bonfire party in the village came the clanging sound of bullets hitting metal objects, followed by a woman's scream, mixed with cries.

"problem occurs!"

Song Heping had vaguely guessed the general reason.

We all know that this matter is related to Mossad without any trial.

He quickly rolled over and hid in a sand ditch nearby, lying down in it and moving forward rapidly using low crawling movements.

The dark figure holding the assault rifle had already arrived at the toilet and fired another volley of bullets into the toilet full of bullet holes.

This reveals his tactical qualities.

Even though he was one of the elites in the Puntland pirate organization, he was not even an ordinary qualified soldier in front of Song Heping.

The magazine was emptied.

The guy was stunned for a moment.

Because I just got the batch of guns yesterday, and I have been using the outdated AK47 before, so I am still a little uncomfortable with the M4A1 with its extremely fast firing rate.

While he was changing the magazine, Song Heping had already circled to the other side of him, jumped and knocked him to the ground, and hit the man's chest hard with his knee.

The feeling of broken bones came through his combat pants. He twisted the wrist of the other party holding the gun and twisted it. The moment the M4A1 fell into the sand, his thumb had already pressed into the pirate's eye socket.

Amid screams, Song Heping snatched the rifle.

Warm blood flowed from his palm into the trigger guard, and he smelled the aroma of spilled camel milk wine wafting from afar - that was the proof that the party was at its climax, but also the death knell of approaching death.

The other two black shadows only then discovered that their accomplice had been knocked to the ground, and they turned their guns around and wanted to shoot at Song Heping.

But how could their shooting skills be a match for Song Heping, who was a top special forces soldier?
Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta——

Song Heping was half a second faster than them in changing magazines and firing.

The two men fell on their backs without even having the chance to scream.

……

A few minutes ago, in the main square 200 meters away, Nura was holding a silver wine jug and distributing sweet wine to the children.

A whole roasted lamb was dripping with fat on the bonfire. Suddenly, there was a sharp sound of breaking air, and then drops of blood splattered on her bare shoulders.

“Get down!”

She roared and threw herself at the old village chief beside her.

Three bullets flew past the hair and smashed the sheep's head on the grill into pieces.

The reveling crowd was like a school of startled sardines. A woman holding her head knocked over a honey jar, and the golden mucus mixed with blood in the stampede, forming a strange amber.

A massacre against the fishing village has begun.

(End of this chapter)