That evening, on the outskirts of Langley City, at Simon's home.
The curtains were tightly closed, with only a desk lamp casting a dim halo on the desk.
Simon was alone, repeatedly checking that the anti-surveillance equipment was working properly, before using the highest-level encrypted satellite phone to dial that number he only kept in his mind.
The phone rang for a long time before being answered.
In the background, there seemed to be the sound of helicopter rotor blades fading into the distance, just disappearing.
"Why are you calling me?"
Song Heping's distinctive voice came through, as concise as ever.
"Listen, there's not much time."
Simon spoke very quickly, his voice pressed so low it was almost a whisper.
"Today I held a high-level meeting specifically to discuss your situation. During the meeting... they approved an assassination plan against you. Led by the Operations Department, their proposed scheme is... poison."
He carefully spat out the last two words, finding it almost comical.
Indeed.
He thought Song Heping would also find it funny.
To formulate an assassination plan against himself and then inform him...
Perhaps this world is already quite abnormal.
"They will try every possible way to buy off people around you. You must be very cautious about your diet recently, especially after leaving the frontline, once you enter the so-called 'safe zone' in Damascus."
The other end of the phone fell into a brief silence, a deathly stillness, with even the faint buzz of electricity audible.
"FUCK! Hahaha!"
A few seconds later, Song Heping's voice returned, accompanied by laughter, as if hearing a message unrelated to him: "Got it. Thanks. When does your Operations Department plan to act?"
"The plan has just been approved, and is being handled by Acting Director Jackson. I estimate they need time to select personnel, formulate a detailed plan, and arrange infiltration. This will at least take a few days; they definitely won't act immediately, but you must stay on high alert from now on."
Simon reminded, "At the time, I'll inform you of the assassination method and executors, but be extra careful for now."
"Don't worry, the people around me aren't easily bought."
Song Heping's voice didn't carry much emotion, yet the cold confidence transmitted through the signal, "But I will be diligent. Nothing will slip through."
He changed the subject, asking, "And how is it over there? Are you solidly seated?"
If Simon wasn't steady, he would lack a critical source of information.
If he was unsafe, Simon would be unsafe too.
Now, Simon and he were like ants on the same rope.
He must stabilize things.
After all, that's the CIA Acting Director; he had previously expended so much effort helping him, and today he finally saw the payoff.
"Only temporarily. It's like sitting on nails."
Simon chuckled bitterly, his tone carrying a hint of fatigue: "So absolutely nothing between us can leak. You are safe, and then I am safe. You understand..."
"Rest assured, as long as I'm alive, your secrets are safe."
Song Heping said casually, as if stating a simple fact, "Anything else? There's some new situation here."
"No more, take care. Keep in touch."
Simon hung up the phone, almost collapsing against the back of his chair, noticing his palms had unknowingly covered in cold sweat.
This feeling of walking a tightrope between two major dangers, simultaneously deceiving his own people and enemies, brought both a twisted thrill and boundless psychological pressure and mental exhaustion.
...
Siria, Halaib, in the makeshift tent next to the frontline command center.
Song Heping had just put down the satellite phone, his sharp gaze sweeping around the interior of the tent, as if searching for any unusual details.
The phone conversation rapidly replayed and analyzed in his mind.
Poisoning...
The CIA's specialty.
He actually enjoyed the same treatment as Castro back then.
Not bad...
The Americans really do hold him in high regard.
Where will they strike from?
Food?
Water sources?
Medicine?
The people around us...