"I have relatives there, it's the safest place for them to go."
Khalid's gaze dimmed, as if he had little confidence in himself or the fate of this country.
"Perfect, we're also heading to Persia." Song Heping agreed readily, "If your wife and daughter are willing to come along, I'd be happy to protect them on the journey and make sure they reach their destination."
He didn't reveal his relationship with Avanti.
Although Khalid was clearly not an enemy.
But Avanti's identity was too sensitive.
Song Heping was unwilling to be involved in anything that might reveal his whereabouts.
"You're going to Persia too?"
Khalid seemed very surprised.
Song Heping nodded, "Yes, I'm going there for a business deal, I'm an arms dealer."
Khalid immediately sensed that the person in front of him must have significant background.
Anyone who can do arms deals with Persians surely dares to go against the CIA, and has a complex background.
Considering what Song Heping said earlier about being wanted, Khalid actually felt relieved.
He was well aware of what was about to happen in this country and had been struggling with finding a way to get his wife and daughter out.
Meeting Song Heping now, he felt it was heaven's arrangement.
"Allah be praised!"
He couldn't help but rejoice.
From upstairs, Nina's cries echoed again.
Khalid said to Song Heping, "We'll do as we agreed, I'll be your guide, ensuring you reach your contacts safely, but you must also keep your promise to safely take my wife and daughter to Persia."
"No problem," Song Heping said, "Us China People stick to our word."
Returning to his room, Song Heping closed the door and immediately caught the scent of vodka and gun oil emanating from the Russians, noticing Antonov standing with a gun behind the door.
"You disappeared for twenty-seven minutes."
Antonov and Nura were unexpectedly awake.
Both had guns in hand.
Seeing Song Heping return, Antonov breathed a sigh of relief and said, "I woke up midway and didn't see you, heard you in the study chatting with him, so I woke Nura up, fearing something might happen to you and we'd need to rescue you immediately."
Song Heping laughed, "Rescue me? Do you think Khalid could take me down?"
Nura quickly asked, "What did he say to you?"
Her voice was as cold as her blade, "That professor is suspicious."
"He discovered our true identity, but seemed amicable and even proposed a deal," Song Heping said, "He'll guide us, exchanging a safe route for us to escort his wife and daughter to Persia."
"Persia? Nura squinted, "Such coincidence? Could he be connected to the Revolutionary Guard?"
She astutely grasped the key point.
In the tumult of Yemen, ordinary people would typically seek refuge in neighboring Oman or Saudi, only those with special ties to Tehran would choose the distant route to Persia.
Antonov suddenly grinned, revealing his gold-plated canine teeth, "I bet this bastard is a fringe member of the Revolutionary Guard's 'Holy City Brigade'. If that's the case, is he a Persian Agent?"
"Impossible!" Nura countered, "If he were a Persian Agent, why would Avanti arrange someone else from Persia to contact us, instead of him directly?"
Song Heping walked to the window, lifting a corner of the curtain.
Under the moonlight, Aden Port resembled a sleeping giant, the distant glimmers of headlights resembling a predator's eyes.
"No need to speculate on his identity, personally, he seems more like someone from the local Resistance Organization in Yemen."
"Did you notice the little girl?" Nura suddenly remarked.
"Notice what?"
Song Heping and Antonov turned to ask simultaneously.
Seeing both turn, Nura continued, "Nina has injection marks on her wrist, the needle marks are fresh. I asked Lita, she said the child has a congenital condition."
"Oh!"
Song Heping suddenly understood why Khalid wanted to make a deal with him to escort Lita and Nina to Persia.
In the current situation in Yemen, Nina couldn't receive proper treatment at all.
"That explains it, we shouldn't think too much, knowing he bears no ill will is enough. In three days, when we leave, we'll take the mother and daughter with us."
On the third night.
CIA safe house, Yadim Suburb
The blue light flickered inside the safe house, a wall of twelve monitors refreshed satellite images at three-second intervals.
Jasper's fingers drummed an uneasy rhythm on the tactical table, the coffee in his cup long gone cold, beads of water on the cup's walls resembled the cold sweat of Yemen's oppressive nights.
"Pull up the infrared data for Sector Four."