"I'll go with you."
"No, he insisted on meeting alone." Song Heping slung on his backpack. "You stay here. If I'm not back within an hour, activate the contingency plan: immediately stop all inventory work, pull everyone out, and request support from Samir."
"Old squad leader—"
"That's an order." Song Heping put on his jacket and checked the magazine of the pistol at his waist. "Remember, in this game, sometimes the biggest risk isn't paying money, it's not knowing the truth."
He walked out of the office and disappeared into Baghdad's night.
In the distance, the base lights looked like a giant vessel stranded in the desert, slowly sinking into the quicksand of corruption and greed.
Midnight, at the abandoned helicopter pad.
The moonlight was ghastly pale, the wind whipped up sand and dust that stung the face.
Song Heping arrived ten minutes early and picked a spot where he could observe the whole area, hiding himself.
