Song Heping's teasing remark about "face" precisely pierced through the last bit of Avanti's cover.
The Revolutionary Guard commander was first startled, then a helpless smile appeared on his face. He shook his head and pointed at Song Heping, saying, "Song... you always speak so bluntly..."
Indeed, for the Persian high command, proactively extending an olive branch to the "Great Satan" is a serious political incorrectness.
But if it's the Americans who first make the request, they are "forced" to "carefully consider" for regional stability, then the narrative is completely different—it concerns dignity and voice.
"Don't worry, old friend."
Song Heping regained his composure and said seriously, "The White House will soon face a situation where they have no choice but to bow. What you need to do now is ensure that your country's leadership can understand and support this strategic concept. Remember, internal unity is more important than external negotiations."
"Are you confident the Americans will come forward to discuss cooperation?"
Avanti was full of doubt about Song Heping's confidence.
After all, those are the Americans.
No one on Earth is more arrogant than them.
Having them come and discuss cooperation with their arch-enemy?
In Avanti's view, this possibility is almost zero.
"Believe me, the Americans are more flexible than you think."
Song Heping thought of Simon and couldn't help but smile again. But he couldn't tell Avanti that the interim CIA director of America was his insider.
This matter is too fantastical; Avanti probably wouldn't believe it, and for safety reasons, he couldn't say it.
After receiving Song Heping's assurance, Avanti solemnly nodded, "Understood. Then I'll take care of things on this side. By the way, when are you planning to head to Moscow?"
"Of course, the sooner, the better." Song Heping looked at his watch, "I will return to Syria with the SSO squad and then take a military plane back to Moscow from there."
Two days later. Syria, Hemimeim Air Base.
The base runway stretched out in the afternoon sun, with the roar of Russian fighter jets and transport aircraft engines relentlessly echoing in the distance, the scent of aviation fuel and dust permeating the air.
Just off the plane, a familiar figure approached.
"Song!"
The Chef opened his arms, giving Song Heping a firm hug.
The boss of the Wagner Mercenary Company appeared very excited.
After all, the mission Song Heping executed was exceptionally dangerous, and coming back alive was a testament to his prowess.
"Was the journey smooth?"
"Fairly smooth," Song Heping nodded in response.
"You made quite a stir in Latamira, even alarming the big shots in Moscow."
The Chef gave a thumbs up, "Even if you hadn't asked to meet them, they would have wanted to meet you. I've already received calls from the Kremlin these past few days, asking me to bring you to meet them. It's obvious; those big shots are very interested in you."
"I'm not a pretty girl; there's no need for them to be interested in me."
Song Heping smiled at the Chef, raised his hand, and made a money-counting gesture, "I'm just a defense company boss; negotiating benefits is enough."
After speaking, he patted the Chef's back, his gaze sweeping over the busy base.
"How's the situation here lately?"
The Chef also looked around and then gestured for Song Heping to follow him to a relatively quiet spot in the hangar shadows.
"Not good, but not terrible either; it's also our opportunity."
He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and said, "The Hafez government's forces are having a tough time in Idlib; the counterattacks by the extremist forces are fierce. Our recent airstrikes have been intense, but the ground forces' advance is slow. The Americans? Hmph, they're shouting counter-terrorism on one side, while secretly providing certain 'Moderate Opposition' with equipment, and the Kurd Armed Forces under their command are quietly expanding their territory to the north. They adopt a supportive attitude towards other Opposition Armed Forces, hoping those guys will bleed the Hafez government and Moscow. Suka! This place is a complete mess!"
Then he exhaled a series of smoke rings, squinting at Song Heping, "So, your proposal for 'cooperation' came at the right time. The timing is spot on. The big shots in Moscow are now a bit bothered by the quagmire in Syria, and on the other hand, your tactics in Nineveh Province have piqued their interest. So they want to meet you, to personally gauge your weight and see if you can help relieve some pressure."
"Is the itinerary arranged?" Song Heping asked directly.
"Yes." The Chef nodded, "An An-124 transport plane will take off in two hours, flying straight to the Chekalovsky Base on the outskirts of Moscow. Besides the necessary crew, there will be a squad of GRU Special Forces 'accompanying' us. On the surface, it's protection, but it's also surveillance. Someone will meet us upon arrival in Moscow."
"GRU?" The "Hunter" next to him, who was checking gear, heard and smirked, "Are they afraid we'll be bored on the way, so they're sending someone to entertain us?"
The Chef chuckled, "It's just protocol, try to understand. After all, Song is now a 'sensitive figure'."
Song Heping didn't care; he turned to the "Hunter" and said, "Grab something to eat and get ready to board."
Two hours later, the massive An-124 transport plane roared into the sky, leaving Syria's relatively warm and humid coastline behind.
Inside the cabin, the lights were dim, filled with engine roars and faint metallic friction sounds.
Song Heping and the SSO squad led by Petrovsky sat in fixed canvas seats, swaying slightly with the turbulence.
The temperature inside the cabin gradually began to drop.
As the plane climbed northward, the chill progressively seeped in.
The SSO squad members and GRU team members maintained their military postures, but the atmosphere between them seemed colder than the physical low temperature.
"Hey, brother..."
The "Iron Hammer" of the SSO Squad was the first to break the silence, with a tone carrying the characteristic superior sarcasm of the SSO, "I heard your GRU has been very active in Eastern Ukraine lately. Hope you old folks haven't had your bones freezed."
The words were meaningful.