Song Heping had disappeared.
When Remondo arrived at the Jade Hotel with his team, they saw one body after another carried out from inside the hotel, beyond the police cordon, yet he received no information from either the killer organization or his own subordinates.
Even their mobile phone signals couldn't be tracked, which meant the batteries had all been removed.
Two teams totaling eight people, double the insurance, and yet they still failed.
This made Remondo hardly believe his own eyes.
Through an inside connection at the Asmara Police Station, by two o'clock in the morning, Remondo finally obtained the identity information of all the deceased.
Among them, five were killers, one was his own sniper, Brook, and another person had an unknown identity, listed as Owen in the hotel's registration data, but Remondo believed that to be a fake identity.
Now, the only thing to do was to have the inside connection in the police keep an eye on all the movements, and to immediately inform DGSE of any clues; his side would send out field agents to dispose of Song Heping before the police arrived.
"Becker, take this photo and analyze it, compare it with the database, and see which armed organization the person belongs to," he said.
He handed the photo of "Owen's" body to the station's intelligence analyst, then picked up the files, ready to report everything truthfully to the station chief, Bar, in his office.
The truth cannot be concealed.
The matter was so serious, the operation had been a complete failure, it couldn't be hidden.
As he was heading towards Bar's office, frowning and deep in thought about how to explain to his superiors, his mobile phone suddenly began to vibrate in his pocket.
He took out the phone and was shocked the moment he saw the screen.
It was Brook's phone.
What shocked him was, how could Brook be calling him?
Wasn't he dead?
All the agents' phones had shadow systems, which required a specific activation procedure. He thought if the person was dead, no one would be able to actívate it.
Turning around, he ran back to the technical team's office at top speed and said to Becker in a loud voice, "Track Brook's phone signal immediately!"
Although Becker was also shocked, he immediately returned to his computer, pulled up the software, and did as told.
Every mobile phone has its unique tracking code.
Even if the SIM card was replaced, as long as it was powered on, it could be tracked.
After instructing Becker, Remondo pressed the call button.
"Who is this?"
"Is this Group Leader Remondo?"
The voice from the other side sounded quite familiar.
In less than a second, Remondo realized he was speaking with the very target of tonight's operation—Song Heping.
"It's me. Are you Song?"
"Yes, it's me," Song Heping's voice was calm, "Group Leader Remondo, you must be tracking my signal, right? Don't bother, you won't find me. I just came to Africa to sell some dates, it's not worth your while to chase after me like this, sending so many killers and even your special ops group, it's such a waste of resources. We're not each other's enemies. By the way, your other subordinate, Jimmy, is currently in my hands. I've left him on a beach on the outskirts of Ussava. You better send someone over there quickly to rescue him. If you're late, I can't guarantee he won't be eaten by wild animals."
"What exactly do you want?" Remondo asked while turning to signal the action team members to immediately set off for Ussava.
The conversation was public, and everyone present could hear it.
Everyone, having learned that Jimmy wasn't dead and was already gathered, was ready to set out for a rescue mission upon hearing that he was left on a beach on the outskirts of Ussava, just waiting for their leader Remondo's command.
"The message I needed to deliver, I've left with your man Jimmy. He'll pass it on to you. I called just to remind you, don't treat me as a local. I'm not your enemy. You've got the wrong person," said Song Heping.
After speaking, he hung up the phone, braked hard, got out of the car, and tossed the phone far into the sea. Turning around, he walked to the side of the car, opened the rear door, dragged Mario out of the car, and then kicked him over to the side of the road.
"Find your own way to escape. Before the French get here looking for the phone, I hope you'll be able to free yourself."
With that said, he turned around, drove off, and disappeared into the darkness at the end of the road.
A full hour later, at the same location where Song Heping had parked and thrown the phone into the sea, two off-road vehicles arrived one after the other and parked steadily at the roadside.
The doors opened, and eight DGSE agents armed with automatic weapons jumped out, then immediately dispersed to expand their perimeter.
From the back off-road vehicle, Remondo stared at the laptop in Becker's hands and asked, "Is the signal still there?"
"It's gone," Becker looked outside the vehicle toward the sea and heard the sound of waves.
The distance was a dark expanse, where occasionally one could vaguely see white waves rushing toward the shore.
"I reckon he was thrown into the sea."
"Sly bastard!"
Remondo was somewhat frantically upset.
The operation was completely ruined now.
The target wasn't dead, but one of his own agents and five assassins were.
Suddenly he remembered something and, standing by the car, asked Becker, "One of the assassins didn't die, a guy named Mario. Have you tracked him down?"
"Someone's already on it, but no discovery yet. Jimmy said just now, Mario's still alive. He probably fears we'd kill him, so he's fled too."
Becker gave his reply, which made Remondo feel all the more furious and powerless.
The proud DGSE was being played by a PMC company.