Jiang Feng moved quickly.
In less than fifteen minutes, he returned to the dining room, drenched in sweat, carrying a large fiber bag.
"Twenty kilograms of screws, all six-centimeter long steel self-tapping screws."
While speaking, he tossed a heavy burlap sack on the ground, the metallic clatter piercingly sharp.
"The hardware store owner looked at me like I was crazy."
Song Heping squatted down, opened the bag, and weighed a handful of screws in his hand.
In the dim light of the safe house, the silver metal gleamed coldly, with sharp-edged threads capable of tearing flesh.
"Perfect."
He looked up at White Bear, who was assembling explosives.
"Is the TNT ready?"
White Bear patted the metal box beside him.
"6 kilograms of military-grade TNT, plus 10 hand grenades. The detonation device is triggered by mobile phone signal, with double insurance."
He picked up a modified old-model Nokia phone.
"Even if there's electronic interference, we can use a backup line to detonate."
Song Heping quickly calculated the yield in his head. 6 kilograms of TNT plus 10 hand grenades, along with twenty kilograms of metal fragments, would be enough to turn any non-armored vehicle into a sieve in an enclosed space.
He spread out the map of the hotel parking lot on the floor, pointing to a turn at the exit of the underground parking lot.
"Here. The convoy must slow down when leaving, and there usually aren't any bystanders here. We'll install the IED in that abandoned Toyota Corolla."
He marked the location on the map with a red pen.
"White Bear, layer the screws and explosives, with screws on top, to ensure they spread in a fan shape upon detonation."
White Bear was already at work, his thick fingers skillfully shaping the TNT into blocks.
"Boss, should we add ball bearings? We have some in stock."
"No need, screws and hand grenade fragments will suffice."
Song Heping turned to Jiang Feng: "You monitor the front entrance of the hotel and notify us immediately when Pence starts moving."
"Have you contacted Weber?" Jiang Feng asked.
"I have." Song Heping said, "When we set off, Weber will relay the information. MI6 will use dual channels to tip off the CIA that 'Shepherd' has been intercepted by us. It should reach Pence's ears within two hours."
Song Heping glanced at his watch—it was 5:30 PM.
The sunlight outside was beginning to redden; N'Djamena's dusk was approaching.
He picked up the satellite phone and dialed a number.
"Weber, we're ready to go. The message can be sent now."
He got straight to the point once the call connected.
Weber's voice sounded a bit reluctant: "Are you sure you want to do this? Such methods increase our risks."
"Cut the crap. Stop harping about risk all day; don't I face as much risk as you?" Song Heping replied coldly: "Stick to the plan. Remember to emphasize that I've arrived in Chad and am in N'Djamena."
With that, he hung up without giving Weber a chance to agree.
"Will he refuse our plan?"
Jiang Feng sounded a bit worried.
Song Heping pointed to his temple: "Use your head. He's not stupid, he'll comply; otherwise, it benefits them nothing. Gather your gear, final checks, we're leaving in five minutes."
After instructing, Song Heping began inspecting his M24 sniper rifle.
It's an old gun but maintained as if it just left the factory, with the rifling in the barrel reflecting a cold bluish light under the lamp.
He carefully loaded five .308 Winchester rounds into the chamber, having meticulously inspected each bullet the night before to ensure not a single warhead had the slightest scratch—after all, today he would be sniping a human target at 1000 meters, surpassing the M24's effective range of 800 meters.
"Boss, the IED is ready."
White Bear's voice came from behind. Song Heping turned around to see an ordinary-looking cardboard box, neatly packed with TNT blocks inside, topped with those twenty kilograms of screws.
Two modified phones hid on either side of the box, antennas cleverly disguised as the box's handles.
"What about the disguise?"
White Bear grinned, pulling out a local supermarket plastic bag and a few French newspapers.
"Once in the car, I'll cover it with these. It'll look like someone's forgotten shopping bag."
Song Heping nodded in satisfaction.
He had seen these homemade IEDs in Illiguo many times: simple, brutal, effective. Now it was their turn to use this trick against the Americans.
White Bear usually appeared carefree but did things quite meticulously; at critical moments, he never faltered.
This was what Song Heping appreciated about him.
"Let's move." He slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder: "You guys head to the parking lot to install the IED. I'll set up a sniper point on the commercial building roof. Remember, confirm Pence is in the convoy before detonation to ensure a hit."