"Mr. Song, please be mindful of your wording. I am a journalist, and I have the right to interview."
On the other end of the phone, Angel chuckled softly, but her tone was unusually firm, "Moreover, my flight is the only civilian plane allowed to land, with special permission personally signed by your 'good partner', Mr. Haftar. I'm right at the terminal now, surrounded by... hmm, looks like all your people? Or Haftar's people? They are being very 'courteous' to me. If you don't come to pick up your 'old friend', I'll have no choice but to hire a car to find you in the city. I've heard the view from the top suite of the Corinthia Hotel is quite nice? Although the previous occupant just committed suicide in there."
Song Heping couldn't help but smile wryly.
But after a moment of reflection, he immediately understood the subtlety within.
Angel mentioned that people surrounded her, so she naturally couldn't overly show the closeness of their relationship, as it was indeed a secret matter.
"Stay where you are! Don't move around! I'll be there shortly!"
After giving his instructions, he immediately hung up the phone, dashed into the villa, grabbed a tactical vest and handgun, and shouted into the communicator, "White Bear, assemble Company A immediately! Fully armed! Target: Mitiga Airport, execute highest alert! Protect the target person! Quickly!"
"Who's coming?" White Bear, who was sitting by the bar drinking beer with Jiang Feng, looked utterly bewildered.
"Angel!"
"Huh? That American lady?"
...
The roar of engines tore through the beach's tranquility.
In less than ten minutes, a convoy made up of a dozen armed pickups and armored vehicles kicked up a cloud of sand and raced towards Mitiga Airport.
The mercenaries on the vehicles wore stern expressions, chambered their firearms, and scanned the ruins along the roadside vigilantly.
Song Heping sat in the leading armored vehicle, his fingers unconsciously tapping against the cold gun body, his mind agitated with thoughts.
Angel...
How dare she?
And why would she come?
Was it merely for an interview?
Aunt Nancy's shadow flashed across his mind.
The airport terminal looked even more dilapidated.
When Song Heping stormed into the arrival hall with a fierce company of elite mercenaries, the atmosphere froze instantly.
The few remaining airport staff and some equally stranded, frightened passengers huddled in corners.
Only one person stood as a calm point in the eye of the storm.
Angel stood at the center of the hall.
She was dressed in a perfectly tailored pair of khaki cargo pants and a matching trench coat, paired with a simple white shirt underneath. Her golden hair was tied in a neat ponytail, her face lightly made up, yet unable to hide the fatigue of a long flight, nor the complex mixture of professional sharpness and personal emotion in her azure eyes.
Beside her were several aviation cases bearing the "Horizon News" logo, and a few assistants clad in bulletproof vests, carrying cameras and recording equipment, stood nervously behind her.
Seeing the fully armed Song Heping stride over, Angel's face bloomed with a radiant yet restrained smile.
She reached out her hand voluntarily: "Song, long time no see."
Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, Song Heping put on the facade of an ordinary friend and extended his hand for a courteous handshake with her.
"Angel, welcome to Tripoli. Although it's not a wise choice, I will now be responsible for your safety."
His voice was formal, yet in the moment their palms touched, his gaze conveyed volumes unspoken.
"With you here, I'm very reassured."
Angel responded cleverly, her gaze equally complicated.
"My team needs to film some material of the airport and city outskirts. Later, I'd like to conduct an in-depth interview with you. The location… you'll arrange it?"
"Back to the city, my temporary residence."
Song Heping spoke concisely, making a gesture to "White Bear" behind him.
The mercenaries swiftly and professionally escorted Angel and her team onto a few reinforced bulletproof SUVs.
The massive convoy started off again, leaving the airport under countless curious or wary eyes, heading towards the villa on the beach.
The journey was silent.
The atmosphere was subtle and silent.
Only the rumble of the armored vehicle's engine and occasional brief reports over the radio broke the silence.
Song Heping and Angel shared a vehicle, separated by the spacious rear seat area. Their gazes occasionally met and then quickly averted, as if an electric current silently crackled in the air.
The convoy entered the villa area, the strict security making it feel like a military fortress.
Angel's assistants were politely arranged to rest in the villa's first-floor lobby, and their equipment temporarily set aside.
Song Heping made a "please" gesture to Angel, pointing towards the staircase leading to the upper private area.
"It's safer here. Let's go upstairs to talk."
His voice remained calm.
Angel nodded, instructed her assistants, "Set up the equipment first, Mr. Song and I will discuss the interview details."
After speaking, she followed Song Heping up the stairs.