The cold edges of the satellite phone pressed against Song Heping's palm. He casually shook this expensive communication tool, a faint, almost cruel smile surfaced at his lips.
"The equipment issue is resolved."
His voice was not loud, yet it was like a stone thrown into a deep pond, stirring invisible ripples.
"The most advanced gear, integrated listening and interference. By then…"
He turned his gaze to Jiang Feng, who was standing with arms crossed beside him, "You take people to the designated location to retrieve it."
"No problem!"
Jiang Feng grinned, subconsciously rubbing his fingers—a habit formed over years of military life, where every time he felt excited, his fingers had the urge to pull the trigger at any moment.
"Cutting off the British mouthpiece, Collins and I will handle it, ensuring they become blind."
Song Heping no longer looked at him, his gaze like a precise probe, turning to Henry in the corner.
The look was calm and undisturbed, yet made Henry instinctively straighten his back a bit.
"My Intelligence Director." Song Heping spoke up, his voice carried an invisible pressure despite no hint of urgency, "Any feedback from the French?"
Henry quickly responded, "Shire, head of DGSE in West Africa! He's very interested in our 'business'!"
He licked his slightly dry lips, his Adam's apple bobbed, as if confirming if the next bargaining chip was tempting enough.
"What they want in return is, after success, the complete takeover by French companies of British mining rights in the southern region."
"Give it to them, no problem."
Song Heping's answer was without hesitation, as decisively as cutting through water.
The red pen in his hand was already hovering above the large map of the Sen Republic on the table, its tip aimed at a densely marked area in the south—with symbols indicating rich niobium-tantalum deposits.
As his words fell, the red pen struck down decisively, the vivid ink instantaneously exploding into a glaring dot on the lines representing the mineral veins, the pen tip almost penetrating the fragile paper.
"Priority, no problem."
He raised his head, his gaze sharp like a hawk, piercing through the map, directly targeting Henry's eyes, "Who is their inside supporter in the Sen government this time?"
Henry immediately turned around, picked up a brown paper file from the table filled with documents and communication equipment, and respectfully placed it on the map in front of Song Heping, right next to that glaring red dot.
"Isis."
He introduced, "The Minister of Mining during Noel's government. Appears neutral, with a decent reputation. Precisely because he was a cabinet member under Noel, Du Er kicked him out once he came to power. His family has deep roots in Sen, a notable family. During the French colonial period, they were the 'old friends' serving Gallia, keeping relations extremely watertight. Isis himself, has credentials from Paris University."
"More importantly…"
Henry added, his voice lowered slightly, "Isis's family has deep branches in the Sena Military, with many members in key positions within the Army and Air Force. Once we initiate action, preliminary estimates suggest they can mobilize at least six brigades as insiders."
"Ha..."
A short, cold laugh emanated from Song Heping's nasal cavity, carrying a mocking chill like ice shards.
He quickly flipped through the file, the sound of paper rustling, his gaze swept across those texts and photos documenting loyalty and betrayal.
Having finished reading, he tossed the file back onto the table like throwing rubbish, leaving only naked disdain on his face.
"Truly a hundred-year support..."
He murmured, as if evaluating an antique, "The French's patience in raising dogs is indeed top-notch."
He lifted his gaze, scanning each person present with eyes that saw through everything and were chilling to the core.
"In such small places."
His fingers unconsciously tapped on the tabletop, emitting a dull thumping sound, "The president on stage is nothing more than a puppet on strings. Those standing behind are always those Western 'advisors' in suits, holding the remote control. Whoever supports the puppets sends out the advisors. The advisors are the ones truly commanding and seizing benefits. As for who the puppet is?"
He pulled out a smile devoid of warmth.
"Doesn't matter. As long as it's a loyal dog."
He turned back to look at Henry, his fingers pointing at the file discarded like worn-out shoes on the table.
"Henry, what I want is more than just these 'insiders'."
His voice was not loud, yet carried undeniable weight.
Henry immediately understood and responded, "As for international troubles post-coup, the French have clearly stated that if the situation escalates to involve the United Nations (UN), they will use the veto rights and diplomatic network of the permanent members to provide us with political protection, weaving that 'diplomatic curtain' thicker."
"Hmm..."
Song Heping slowly nodded, the taut line of his jaw finally relaxed a bit, a genuine trace of approval flashed in his eyes, "Not bad. This is more like it."
This is the most vulnerable and yet the most lethal string in his entire massive plan.
His own identity is too sensitive.
The last time he assisted the British in planning a lightning coup, although it was a success, the storm stirred has yet to calm, international attention long focused on him as this "shadow orchestrator."
Now, not even three months later, to stir up another in Sena?
Once exposed as his doing, the Americans would never miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
The CIA's propaganda machine would operate at full capacity, portraying him as an utterly reprehensible war profiteer, stirring up a mighty wave at the United Nations, pressing for international intervention.
Sena is still a member of the African Union (AU).
The attitude of the African Union is a variable even harder to predict.