The Mi-171 helicopter landed on the hospital's helipad, and General Ramas descended from the cabin, then passed through the emergency building to the inpatient department, and went up to the second floor of one of the wards.
In the ward, he saw Song Heping, who was already sitting in a chair waiting for him.
"You look very spirited, my friend."
Ramas opened his arms.
Song Heping stepped forward and gave him a hug, performing a cheek-to-cheek greeting.
"General, I'm so hungry I could eat a cow. I was about to go grab something to eat, but when they said you were coming, I waited here for you for twenty minutes."
Song Heping didn't hide his complaint one bit.
Because he knew very well that an old fox like Ramas had seen too much of worldly cunning, and sometimes being too polite in front of such people could actually make the interaction seem distant and awkward.
Sure enough, upon hearing this, Ramas burst into hearty laughter, making a welcoming gesture, "Please, Mr. Song, I've instructed the hospital to prepare a feast for you."
The two of them went downstairs and made their way to the dining room.
In Venezuela, military ranks are regarded with great importance and are strictly observed.
There is no equality between officers and enlisted personnel.
An officers' dining room is for officers, and an enlisted dining room is for enlisted; they are not at all on the same level.
Recently, Venezuela's economy has been growing well; with the war in Illiguo led by the Americans heating up, oil prices have been soaring. Venezuelan oil, although not as high quality as the light crude from the Middle East, had no trouble finding buyers, hence the GDP growth rate reached 12% that year.
This economic prosperity was evident on the dining table.
Their lunch ranged from oysters to carpaccio, from cheese-drenched lobster to traditional avocado and palm heart salad, a full spread of cold and hot dishes, even including a bottle of white wine.
"I've met people from East University before; one of them really likes our oysters here. He claims they're great for potency," Ramas said as he picked up an oyster and a slice of lemon, squeezed a bit of juice on it, and said, "These are authentic Caribbean Sea oysters from here, very delicious. Give it a try."
Hungry as he was, Song Heping didn't care much for etiquette anymore. He nodded with a smile as he agreed, then picked up an oyster, skipped the lemon juice, and drizzled a bit of olive oil on it before slurping the whole oyster into his mouth.
"Not bad."
Song Heping commented, "Indeed, the oysters from the tropical seas are much plumper than those from cold waters, but they're a little less refreshing."
Ramas's eyes lit up, "I didn't realize Mr. Song was such a connoisseur."
"That's what I was told by our company's executive director, Ferrari; I'm just parroting his words and making a fool of myself."
Song Heping replied with a sheepish smile as he picked up something resembling a rolled-up pastry, whose name he didn't even know, took a big bite, and it looked very filling indeed.
As expected, it was filled with minced meat, mashed potatoes, and some vegetables.
"This is good," he said.
Ramas explained, "This dish is our national snack, called empanada, similar to dumplings in your country, or you could compare it to a Mexican wrap."
Song Heping focused on tackling the empanada, nodding in satisfaction while his mind was actually pondering what Ramas would bring up for discussion next.
Of course, it was about business, the arms trade.
"Speaking of Mr. Ferrari from your company, he made quite an impression on me. He actually dared to threaten me," Ramas said, his eyes flashing with a hint of lethal intent.
Song Heping noticed this but dismissed it casually, "Are you referring to the helicopter incident?"
Ramas scoffed, "Yeah, you want to know how he threatened me?"
Song Heping replied, "Actually, I'm not interested in knowing."
As he spoke, he swallowed the last bite of empanada and picked up another oyster.
"If you're willing to help him get helicopters, it means it's worth it, and also implies that even if there's an issue, you've got a way out."
Ramas didn't immediately respond but watched Song Heping eat another oyster.
"That's correct."
Only then did he continue the conversation.
"The helicopter I loaned him wasn't from the military, but one from a private special soldier training center nearby. If anything happens, it won't get back to me."
Song Heping thought of the gunshots he had heard during the day and asked, "I heard gunshots nearby. They were coming from that training center, right?"
"That's right. It's a private special soldier training center operated by Black Water Company, in collaboration with our military. Even if the Colombians find out about the aircraft, their investigation will lead them only to the Americans," explained Ramas confidently. He appeared to have a contingency plan ready to disassociate himself at any moment.
Such an old army head would naturally be crafty, ensuring not to mention that the loan was for a cross-border rescue or to involve the pursuit battle in the Tame Region. Most importantly, he would not leave any evidence that could be traced back to him.
Song Heping suddenly also thought of his future arms deals.
So he said, "General, I know you didn't come here just to have lunch with me. Let's get down to business and talk about our cooperation."
"Thrilling!" Ramas regained his smile, "Your trip to Colombia this time has truly opened my eyes. An entire squad of Green Berets gone, and AGLAN lost a squad too..."
"Wait a minute."
Song Heping interrupted him.
"General, please don't bring those matters up because they simply don't exist."
As he spoke, his gaze turned toward Ramas.
Ramas looked back at Song Heping, visibly surprised.
After being taken aback for a while, Song Heping spread his hands, "There is no evidence proving I've ever been to Colombia."