Song Heping ultimately decided to return to Latakia Police Station with Chief Hussein.
The night wind carried the scent of smoke and scorched earth, blowing through this scarred city.
The distant skyline was tinted dark red by gunfire, occasionally streaked by the trajectories of tracer bullets, like the Grim Reaper's scythe swinging in the dark.
"The whole city is a mess now, venturing out at night is suicide."
Chief Hussein whispered.
His voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't rested properly in a long time.
His uniform was covered in dust and dried bloodstains, the bandage on his right arm had become brown with seeped blood.
The police station was located in the northern district of Latakia City, a three-story concrete building with walls riddled with bullet holes, like it had been torn by the claws of some monstrous beast.
Several police cars in the yard had long been wrecked, their tires burned to twisted metal rims, one car door was ajar with shell casings scattered inside.
Hussein led them through a corridor filled with sandbags, several armed special police officers stood shadowed, their eyes warily sizing up this foreign team.
Their gazes held both vigilance and an indescribable hostility.
"Most colleagues either died in battle or have escaped home after the war started..." Hussein quietly explained, his voice laced with profound exhaustion.
"We originally had over two hundred people... now..."
He shook his head, choosing not to continue.
Utekin walked behind Song Heping, his finger never leaving the trigger guard, sharply surveying the surroundings.
As Hussein stepped forward to open the meeting room door, he quietly moved closer to Song Heping, whispering in Russian:
"Be careful, there are quite a few moles in Siria's police system."
Song Heping didn't reply, just nodded slightly.
Of course, he knew.
Siria's situation was very peculiar—a nation of minority rule over the majority, with internal conflicts festering for years.
The storm of the Arabic Spring swept in, various factions stirred restlessly, the government was already riddled with holes.
The Freedom Army, extremist groups, foreign powers...
Everyone was vying on this land, and within the police system, who could guarantee there were no informants?
Hussein might be trustworthy, but what about the officers under him?
No one could guarantee.
"Sit down and have some tea, my friends."
Hussein invited everyone into the meeting room, retrieved a pot of Arabic red tea from a corner cabinet, and poured a cup for each person.
The bitter aroma permeated the air, mixed with the scent of dust and gunpowder, making the tea feel particularly heavy.
He sat beside a scratched wooden table, spreading out a hand-drawn map of the city, pointing fingers at various areas of Latakia Port.
"The Russian Army has sent planes to bomb the supply lines of the Freedom Army, but the informants in the city are still active."
He sighed, "Tonight they blew up the power station, now half the city is without electricity."
Song Heping took the teacup but didn't drink.
He stared out the window, the distant night sky dyed orange-red by artillery and incendiary bombs, the sound of explosions echoing like some beast's low growl.
"How many areas can your government army still control?" Jiang Feng asked.
Hussein gave a bitter smile, his face full of bitterness, it seemed this was a difficult question for him to answer.
"Nominally, all of Latakia is still ours."
He pointed at the map, "But in reality? The port area, industrial area, Old Town... everywhere is filled with Freedom Army soldiers. They have even launched bomb attacks on all administrative office locations and military camps."
He gestured outside to the bombed police cars and collapsed courtyard walls.
"We were bombed once before."
Utekin coldly interrupted, "So even your own police station isn't safe?"
Hussein didn't deny it, he sipped his tea silently, bowed his head in thought, seemingly trying to find the words to explain the chaos here.
Just then—
"Something's not right."
Jiang Feng, who had been standing by the window, suddenly put down his teacup, fingering the curtain slightly open, stared firmly outside.
Song Heping immediately became alert, putting down his teacup, hastily moving to Jiang Feng's side.
"What's wrong?"
"Someone is moving outside." Jiang Feng said in a low voice, "There's a vehicle, driving without lights, circling the police station."
Song Heping quickly approached the window, using the distant flames of burning buildings, he saw a pickup and a sedan slowly driving past the street in front of the police station.
The car windows rolled down, the faces inside looking towards the station, seemingly examining the defense setup.
Then, bizarrely—