"As soon as possible."
Song Heping said, ending the call without a single unnecessary word.
Immediately afterward, he changed the phone again, switched channels, and contacted Avanti.
Communicating with an old friend like Avanti, the process was more concise and efficient, like a telegram.
He conveyed the US side's principle agreement to engage and the preliminary meeting location—Elbil.
After finishing all this, the horizon outside the window had already turned pale, a new day quietly arriving amidst smoke and uncertainty.
Song Heping rubbed his somewhat swollen temples, high-intensity mental consumption was more exhausting than a continuous march.
He was about to lean back in his chair for a moment's nap to regain some energy when the door was rhythmically knocked on.
Three long knocks, two short.
Pause, then one long.
It was a code agreed upon with familiar acquaintances.
Outside on business, Song Heping was always very cautious.
A knock agreed upon in advance could easily distinguish friend from stranger.
Looking outside through a specially treated peephole, confirming the identity of the visitor, Song Heping then gently unlocked the door.
Standing outside was the "Chef."
The latter slipped in like a shadow, turned around to close the door softly, his movements fluid and silent.
"I heard you saw the 'Boss' today?"
Chef whispered, his eyes meaningful.
The 'Boss' he referred to was the one in the Kremlin.
Song Heping walked over and took out a bottle of locally produced mineral water, handing it to him, also unscrewing one for himself and taking a sip: "Just finished busy work. Your information is always so timely."
"I've got people above."
Chef took the water, didn't drink, placed it directly on the bedside table, and looked at Song Heping seriously.
"What did the Boss say? Did he agree?"
"He agreed." Song Heping smiled: "He's not stupid. Jiang Feng has already taken over Morlemannia, it's obvious that unless the Americans send troops back to Illiguo, they can only choose to cooperate with us. Moreover, I've involved you Russians and Persians."
Chef gave a thumbs up: "I knew you were talented! There's nothing you can't accomplish!"
His gaze showed admiration.
"I've followed the 'Boss' for so many years, to be honest, sometimes I feel he trusts you even more than me."
Song Heping noticed the complex expression in Chef's eyes.
You could call it admiration.
Or perhaps a kind of longing...
A profound longing...
Suddenly, he seemed to understand Chef more deeply.
Chef had been painstakingly trying to get close to Vladimir for so many years, even enduring ridicule as a 'personal Chef,' acting like a dog for so many years to gain a bit of trust.
Compared to himself, an outsider who convinced the always cautious 'Boss' in just three days...
Besides admiration, Chef's gaze held longing, and disappointment.
Perhaps Chef also realized he was being inappropriate, quickly smiled to cover his emotions, changing the subject: "Where is the meeting location?"
"Elbil." Song Heping didn't hide it, after all, Chef was involved in the follow-up, so there was no need to conceal it.
"Elbil? That's American territory!"
His voice lowered even further.
Song Heping nodded, tightened the bottle cap: "Preliminary intention, still needs final confirmation from the other side."
Chef furrowed his brows, the deep wrinkles on his face like knife carvings: "Have you thought it through? That place isn't up to you, nor the Persians to decide. Americans could well take you and our people for a clean sweep. It's not like they've never done it!"
Song Heping watched the concern in Chef's eyes, slight ripples of unease surfaced within him.
He knew, in the dark jungle of great power games, Chef's worries were far from groundless.
Betrayal and conspiracy were the norm here, sincerity and trust were luxuries.
He walked to the window, gazing down at the street where pedestrians and vehicles started moving, slowly said: "Chef, I understand your concern. But this time, I think the chances are low."
"Why? Just because they need you to deal with those mad dogs of 1515?" Chef's tone carried sarcasm.
"That's part of it."
Song Heping turned, his gaze calm and resolute: "But more importantly, it's about balance and deterrence. If something happens to me in Elbil, whether or not it's done by Americans, the blame would undoubtedly fall on them. Then, do you think the people behind you, and the Kremlin behind Peterovich, known for its toughness, would let it rest? Elbil..."
He shook his head: "Then it would no longer be the relatively peaceful oasis maintained by delicate balance. Flames and turmoil would immediately engulf the entire Kold Autonomous Region, even affecting the borders of Turkey and Siria. Americans want stability and to clear out the 1515 Armed, not to personally ignite a bomb that could injure themselves in a place where they still have influence."
He paused and added: "Moreover, I won't entrust safety to the goodwill of others. I'll make arrangements in advance. My people will be stationed at critical points like the northern mountains and eastern transportation routes. If my signal is cut, or I send a specific warning signal, they have the ability within half an hour to turn certain key points in Elbil into hell. This isn't an empty threat, it's real insurance."
"Chef" stared at Song Heping for a long time, his clouded yet sharp eyes seemingly piercing through his exterior, reaching the heart, evaluating every detail in his words and the determination behind them.
Finally, he slowly exhaled, slightly relaxing his tense shoulders: "You're always like this, looking three steps ahead, preparing all retreats and countermeasures. Since you're so confident... alright..."
He stepped forward, firmly patted Song Heping's arm.
"Be very careful yourself. Americans are untrustworthy, they're all about their own interests. At the negotiation table, there are no permanent friends, only permanent interests."
Song Heping felt the weight of Chef's concern, nodded, his tone softened a bit: "Rest assured, I have my measures."
He didn't tell Chef a deeper, more fatal reason—the CIA acting director Simon, personally responsible for the meeting, flying to Elbil, was, in a way, Song Heping's "man."
The relationship between them was far more solid and complex than outsiders imagined.
Simon's political life, even personal safety, were closely intertwined with Song Heping.
Simon would never allow anything to happen to him in Elbil, that would be tantamount to suicide.
Of course, this was the highest secret only between him and Simon, an absolute trump card that must not be revealed.