"I'm so excited!"
Half a month later, on an international flight from Caracas International Airport in Venezuela to Moscow, Russia, Jiang Feng, sitting in the business class, was a bit restless, nervous like a child.
"How long has it been since you went home?" Song Heping asked.
"Over a year now..."
Jiang Feng suddenly quieted down, staring blankly at the cabin ceiling.
Song Heping did not continue to ask why he hadn't gone home.
Everyone has their own story.
After all, which man doesn't leave his hometown to carve out a place for himself, to succeed in his career and then return home in glory?
In those years Jiang Feng worked as a mercenary for EO company in Africa, he didn't manage to save much money, so naturally, he didn't want to go back.
Who doesn't want to return home in glory? Who doesn't want to come back rich and respected?
This time, being able to return home with some money in his pocket, he was naturally very excited.
"Don't rush, we first fly to Saint Petersburg, stay there for two days, then head back to our country."
"Old squad leader, why are we going to Saint Petersburg?"
Song Heping said, "First, we couldn't get direct flight tickets, and second, I have an old friend there. He helped me recruit the pilot and technician team, so I must go and thank him in person."
Jiang Feng asked, "Is it that chef?"
"Exactly," Song Heping nodded. "Yes, he's also one of the founders of our company."
The chef's efficiency in handling affairs was indeed beyond reproach.
Song Heping had to admit, the chef truly was capable.
Four technicians and one weapons engineer, the chef had arranged everything in less than a week, and they were currently disassembling an aircraft over at Illiguo's place.
Three pilots had already been agreed upon; all former elite pilots of the Russian Air Force, some now worked for Russian Airlines, others for cargo shipping companies, not earning a high salary.
Song Heping offered a single annual salary of 240,000 plus two months of vacation and a one million US Dollar accident insurance for each, and they immediately agreed to join.
Leave the professional tasks to the professionals.
This was Song Heping's principle of doing things.
As for things like aircraft which he really didn't understand, but seeing those technicians had fixed a Mi-171 helicopter, deemed unable to fly, in just four days after arriving in Illiguo, for Song Heping that alone felt worth the cost of the endeavor.
Dominic was the happiest, finally having his own helicopter, no longer idling around in the company like a little follower alongside Ferrari.
In the coming months, Song Heping must quickly return home to assemble a construction crew, sign contracts with them, and have them build a runway and base in Venezuela in the shortest time possible.
According to the pilots and ground crew, a good thing about Soviet-series fighter jets is they don't require high-standard runways; a 1000-meter runway would suffice for the likes of the Su-24 fighter jets for takeoff and landing.
However, the biggest issue now wasn't the construction period, but who could build a one-kilometer runway and two simple hangars within three months.
Song Heping wasn't worried about other sites for the training base; Jiang Feng could direct the construction team on that, but the most critical was that runway—without it, planes couldn't take off.
Besides that, there was also the issue of transporting the aircraft.
Currently, the paperwork was handled by Yusuf; the three million US Dollar armament and the two Su-24 fighter bombers were still managed by the shipping company that previously handled the SA-9 missile delivery.
Ferrari could handle these affairs well, but his most crucial task was to return home and find the construction team; no one understands infrastructure better than the people of China.
To build a runway in such a short time, only a Chinese construction company would do; construction teams from other countries were unreliable.
After the plane landed at Saint Petersburg Airport, Song Heping, along with Jiang Feng, passed through customs, walked out of the airport, and was just about to reach out for his phone to contact the chef when he heard a familiar voice behind him—
"Song! My brother!"
Actually, without even turning around, Song Heping knew who it was.
The chef's slightly rough yet resonant baritone was easy to recognize.
He turned around and saw the chef, dressed in a suit.
This guy looked nothing like he did a year ago in Illiguo.
Back then, the chef would wear tactical outfits every day, his face sunburnt and his skin rough.
But now, standing in front of Song Heping, the chef was rosy-cheeked with delicate white skin, and his half-bald head shone like a gangster boss from the movies.
"Damn, chef, your whole vibe has changed," Song Heping dropped his luggage and also opened his arms to his old battle buddy.
The two embraced tightly, the chef thumped Song Heping's back before letting go and asking, "How long are you staying this time? I'll show you the nightlife of Saint Petersburg, then we'll go hunting in the Far East and fishing in the Baltic Sea!"
"I can't, I can only stay for two days. My flight is already booked, I'm leaving the day after tomorrow, rushing back to the motherland."
Song Heping declined his generous offer.
The chef's expression soured, "Why? Don't you find the bustle of Saint Petersburg appealing, or is this old brother not worth a few extra days?"
Looking around, with people coming and going outside the airport, Song Heping said to the chef, "Let's get in the car and talk."
The chef led them to a stretched Lincoln, and the driver came over to load Song Heping's luggage into the trunk.
The two got into the car, and the chef glanced at his watch and instructed the driver, "To the hotel."
Jiang Feng was sitting in this type of stretched Lincoln luxury car for the first time, the interior was like a mini-bar with dining tables, liquor shelves, and a TV, all adorned with luxurious leather and gold-plated decorations, making him unsure where to put his hands.