That evening, in a temporarily set up studio, Noel faced the camera and delivered his resignation statement.
His complexion was ashen, his voice trembling, but his words were clear: "I, Claude Noel, President of Sen Republic, hereby declare my resignation from the presidency... I urge all government army soldiers to lay down their weapons and avoid unnecessary bloodshed..."
Song Heping glanced at the BBC reporter in the corner.
These guys were sent by Britain, genuine BBC reporters.
The British really spared no expense to gain benefits from Sena.
As long as BBC finishes shooting tonight, soon after, they will broadcast Noel's speech on their station, triggering a chain reaction where stations from all over the world, even Africa, will report this speech.
By then, it will be the French who find themselves in an awkward position.
The president they supported resigned voluntarily, rather than being killed.
If Noel were killed, they could easily groom another.
But resignation is different.
The French have only one option—deny Noel's resignation as valid, arguing that it was under duress from the opposition.
But no matter how they argue, it's just lip service.
After all, Noel appearing on camera himself, using the noble cause of avoiding civil war and bloodshed to persuade the government army to lay down arms, would absolutely gain majority public support. Moreover, the public had long endured the decadent rule of this president and couldn't bear the French's greed and resource grab any longer.
However, at this moment, everything seemed unrelated to him.
The coup was complete.
His task was ended.
Earlier at the banquet, Du Er agreed to all the conditions Song Heping proposed, and the negotiations went very smoothly.
The ease of it all was hard for Song Heping to believe.
Although his contribution to the success of the coup was immense, the three major mineral districts in the north were treasure troves, a money tree, and according to his conditions, they only had to pay Sena Government 10% in taxes each year, with rent as symbolic—100 US Dollars for a 99-year lease...
He had originally intended to negotiate with Du Er like "asking sky-high prices and settling for reasonable", thinking they'd bargain, but unexpectedly, Du Er accepted all terms without hesitation or a single frown.
Du Er didn't frown, but Song Heping's eyebrows jumped wildly.
He couldn't help touching his eyebrows.
"Old leader, what's wrong?"
Jiang Feng, nearby, noticed something was amiss and quietly asked, "Feeling unwell?"
"No, it's nothing..."
Song Heping's gaze shifted to the other end of the tent, where Lumar and several opposition leaders stood by the monitor, whispering intermittently.
When Noel mentioned "peaceful power transfer", a well-dressed middle-aged man quietly entered and whispered something in Lumar's ear.
Lumar's expression immediately turned serious, and then the two left the room together.
Song Heping's intuition told him that something was wrong.
"Stay here and watch, I'm going to the bathroom."
He signaled Jiang Feng to keep an eye on Noel, while he used the restroom as an excuse to follow.
The tent area was dimly lit, and Song Heping moved silently like a shadow.
He stopped outside the largest command tent, hearing intense discussions inside.
"...He must be removed!"
Someone unfamiliar spoke, determinedly.
"As long as Noel is alive, the government army still has a core to rally around."
That was Du Er speaking.
"But we promised Song that as long as Noel cooperated, we wouldn't kill him..."
That was Lumar's voice.
"Song?" Du Er snorted dismissively, "Once the French and the British reach an agreement, they'll be superfluous. I've come to a consensus with Madame M; Sena doesn't need excess players."
Excess players?
What the hell!
Weren't they talking about him?
Song Heping's blood ran cold instantly.
He discreetly backed away a few steps, then deliberately made footsteps, pretending he'd just arrived. As he pulled back the tent curtain, the conversation inside immediately ceased.
"Song!"
Seeing Song Heping, Lumar greeted with forced composure, "Just in time, we were discussing the next step of the plan."
Song Heping's eyes swept over the three people in the tent—Lumar, the suit-clad man just now, and a senior military officer.
"Oh really?" he calmly asked, "Is there anything that needs my assistance?"
"So you're Song?" The man in the suit stood up, extending his hand: "I'm George from Britain. Thank you for your contributions to Sena's democratic cause."