Ten minutes later, six hundred meters west of the landing point, at the edge of a barren forest.
Deep in the darkness, the beams of two headlights pierced the night, flashing three times at precise intervals from afar.
After a brief pause, the miniature flashlight in Song Heping's hand responded with two quick flashes.
Signal confirmed.
The engine sound was barely audible, and a dark-colored SUV glided ghost-like, stopping steadily at the edge of the forest's shadow.
The car door opened, and a man agilely stepped out sideways, quickly blending into the tree shadows.
The newcomer was about forty, lean and fit, wearing an unremarkable dark gray fleece jacket and dark tactical pants, with dusty hiking boots on his feet.
His movements revealed a precision and alertness, exuding the aura of a rigorously trained agent.
"Mr. Song?"
The man's English had a faint, indiscernible accent, spoken in a low tone.
"Jamie."
Song Heping stepped out from a deeper shadow, extending his hand for a brief handshake.
His palm was dry, his grip firm.
Jamie's gaze quickly scanned the four team members behind Song Heping.
"The things you need are in the car, make it quick."
The trunk opened, revealing neatly arranged passports and personal documents with covers.
Jamie distributed them rapidly, explaining concisely:
"I'm the liaison officer at the United States Elbil office. These documents will temporarily allow you to pass through the checkpoints under the guise of a 'diplomatic security team.' Remember, unless absolutely necessary, don't speak, I'll handle everything."
Song Heping and the team took the documents, matching the photos to themselves, then tucked them into their pockets.
Jiang Feng glanced at the passport's inner page in the dim car light, sneering: "John Smith? Could the name be any more perfunctory?"
"It's safer to be perfunctory."
Jamie was already in the driver's seat, gesturing them: "Get in. We must enter the city before dawn."
The SUV bumped over the dirt road, heading towards Elbil.
The closer to the city, the more intense the tension in the air became.
About twenty minutes into the drive, the first checkpoint appeared at the end of the headlights.
Sandbag fortifications, a general-purpose machine gun gleaming coldly beside the spotlight, with four soldiers in Kurdish Security Forces uniforms blocking the road behind the barrier.
Jamie slowed down, rolled down the window, conversing fluently in Kurdish with the approaching soldier, while handing over his diplomatic documents.
The soldier took them, carefully inspecting with a flashlight, then suspiciously swept the beam over the backseat.
Song Heping felt the light pause momentarily on his face under the Arabic headscarf, but he maintained a calm demeanor, keeping his breathing steady.
"American diplomat, this is my security team," Jamie said loudly while handing over his documents: "We have urgent business back at the office."
Americans have some privileges around here, especially with diplomatic status, even more so.
The highest-ranking soldier murmured into the radio, moments later, the barrier slowly lifted.
Jamie nodded in acknowledgment, driving smoothly through.
A distance past the checkpoint, he spoke in a low voice:
"Rashid's men control all the entry and exit points. They're looking for specific targets... or anyone who seems suspicious."
"Little Masoud's still alive?" Song Heping got straight to the point.
Jamie glanced at him through the rearview mirror, his gaze sharp:
"Our intelligence indicates he's still alive. But Rashid's men are scouring the city for anyone linked to Old Masud, he might not be safe soon. What's your target location?"
"Fatima Women's Vocational School."
Jamie's grip on the steering wheel seemed to tighten slightly, but his voice remained steady:
"Confirmed? That place is under heavy surveillance."
"Little Masoud contacted Duke before escaping, the signal indicates he's been there all along."
"Fatima's definitely on Rashid's watchlist." Jamie took a deep breath: "Alright, since it's the mission... but we have to be extra cautious. There are at least twenty checkpoints in the city, be careful, follow my lead, and don't make a sound."
In the next thirty minutes, they passed through three more checkpoints.
Each time, Jamie relied on his diplomatic status and impeccable responses to pass without issue.
However, Song Heping acutely noticed that the deeper they ventured into the city center, the more vigilant the soldiers became, and the questioning grew increasingly thorough.
"Something's off."
When a fifth checkpoint officer gestured for everyone to get out for inspection, Song Heping whispered to Jiang Feng beside him.
Jamie was negotiating with the officer, his tone still restrained but slightly elevated.
Song Heping's fingers subtly moved toward the grip of his handgun.
Suddenly, the officer's gaze locked onto Song Heping, gesturing toward him: "You, take off the headscarf."
Time seemed to elongate for a second.
Song Heping slowly raised his hand, his fingertips touching the edge of the headscarf, his peripheral vision quickly scanning the positions of the surrounding soldiers and the machine guns behind cover.
He was already a well-known figure in this area.
Although he had stuck fake beards on his chin and face before setting out, there was no guarantee if they would notice.
If it came down to it, he'd have to act tough, taking them down before they could send a signal.
As he was removing the headscarf, he threw a glance at Jiang Feng and the others.
The latter instantly caught on.
Just then, the southeast night sky suddenly lit up with an orange-red flare, followed by a muffled explosion rumbling, shaking the air.