Song Heping, who thought he was very professional, quickly realized just how unprofessional he actually was.
A few minutes later, when the chef parked the car in the underground parking lot of the departure hall, Angel stood up and gave Song Heping a slap.
"You thug!"
Looking at the angry Angel, Song Heping shouted in his own defense, "I'm a thug? I'm a thug?! I—"
Just as he was about to question for the third time how exactly he'd been "thuggish" to this stupid bitch, he suddenly noticed a bright red lipstick mark on the crotch of his trousers.
What the fuck...
This ...
He was suddenly at a loss for words again.
This was like having mud in one's crotch: not shit, but might as well be shit.
The position he had pressed on earlier caused everything to seem suspicious.
White Bear was holding back laughter on the side and had already hurt himself internally, continuously giving Song Heping the thumbs up, which angered Song Heping so much he wanted to kick him again in the jaw where the swelling hadn't gone down yet.
Fortunately, Angel finally came back to her senses.
She had been scared shitless just now.
She took out a pack of cigarettes from her travel bag, tried to light it several times with her lighter without success, and eventually, it was White Bear who came over and lit the cigarette for her.
The chef came up to comfort Angel saying, "This is an underground parking lot; rockets can't get to us here, now all we need to do is wait here, I estimate that the attackers will cease in about ten minutes."
Because the US Air Force bases all have counter-artillery detection radar.
This stuff works.
Whenever the shells come, it can capture the trajectory and then backtrack the position of the enemy's artillery through the computer.
After finding the artillery position, the Airborne forces and ICDC forces based at the airport will dispatch ground and air teams to the location.
At the same time, the US Army artillery stationed in the airport will use M109A6 Paladin self-propelled howitzers and M777 howitzers to retaliate fiercely.
This is the basic process of defense against bombardment at the large Illinois US Army bases.
However, since the members of the Resistance Organization are also combat-seasoned and as shrewd as ghosts, having taken big losses from the US Army, they know about hit and run tactics and definitely won't stay put waiting to die, which results in the US Army's counter-attacks typically being ineffective.
Though they're often ineffective.
But the chef knows that this kind of shelling will last at most for ten minutes.
Surviving ten minutes without being blown up means you're temporarily out of danger.
That's why he drove the car in here to take shelter.
Having temporarily obtained safety, Angel was very angry, puffing fiercely on her cigarette, holding her satellite phone in front of the car while ruffling her hair and pacing in circles, and began making calls non-stop.
She'd just gotten off the plane and was immediately subjected to a fierce shelling, which caused her to be somewhat on the verge of a breakdown.
Before coming, Angel did have some understanding of the general situation in Illinois.
She expected danger but hadn't anticipated it to be this severe.
Once the phone connected, she switched to full-on rant mode.
"OH! SHIT! I just got off the plane! I haven't even stepped off the tarmac! And the shells became flying in! Oh!
Damn it! The coalition command still says they have everything under control here! Bullshit everything! This is Baghdad! Baghdad! And they can't even protect this place ...
this goddamn war!"
Angel's angry complaints echoed throughout the underground parking lot.
Song Heping hadn't expected Angel, the big-time reporter who looked quite distinguished and had quite a presence, to curse like a sailor.
Sometimes a beauty isn't quite what she seems on closer inspection.
Perhaps that's the idea.
"Oh, daddy!"
Angel halted her pacing, suddenly stopping and looking around with a wary expression in her eyes, as if she had spotted something unsavory lurking in a dark corner of the underground parking lot.
"It must be the people from Langley! They want to kill me!"
She suddenly screamed.
Song Heping, upon hearing this, couldn't help but cast a pitying glance her way.
The poor foreign woman was clearly terrified.
She had started to spout nonsense.
"It must have been them!"
Angel turned around sharply, her gaze falling on the cook and Song Heping and the others.
Song Heping quickly turned and went over to the patrol SUV to check the vehicle.
Although he had never been in love, he thought of a principle Uncle Li, the pig-farmer from his childhood neighborhood, had told him—a woman in hysterics was just like a sow that had just finished farrowing; you couldn't go near either.
Uncle Li was blind in one eye and also a bachelor.