Chapter 26: Has this foreign girl been lashed into stupidity?

Song Heping returned to his container home with Gray Wolf, where the Cook had already woken up. He looked exhilarated, his face flushed as if the alcohol from the night before hadn't quite worn off. Upon seeing Song Heping, he shouted in his Russian-accented English, "Song! We’ve struck gold!"

Struck gold?

After asking, Song Heping finally understood: the goddess of wealth, Angel, had decided to continue employing the "Musician" team as her personal bodyguards, and the pay had been raised to $15,000 per day. Song Heping could hardly believe his ears. Ten thousand dollars already seemed like an astronomical sum to him; was the foreign girl out of her mind to offer a raise voluntarily? What kind of logic was this? It was like going to a market where a vendor says the pork is ten dollars, but the customer insists on paying fifteen. There were only two explanations for such a situation—either the vendor was crazy, or the customer was.

While driving to the Republican Palace, Queen Yulia—a rare occurrence—teased Song Heping, asking if Angel had been knocked silly by his slap yesterday, or if she had some peculiar hobby that led to her decision to keep hiring the "Musicians." She wore an ambiguous expression as she said this. She was White Bear’s girlfriend and had been quite hostile toward Song Heping before, especially since he had kicked White Bear, leaving him with a sore jaw for the past two days. That she was now joking with him suggested, in a way, that she had accepted him as part of the team.

The world of mercenaries worships the strong. Only those with capability earn respect. No one is an exception to this rule.

The group chatted and laughed their way to the Tulip Hotel next to the Republican Palace, where Angel was staying, along with many international journalists. As soon as they stepped out of the vehicle, they saw the ISF members and a familiar figure—Rice. Rice appeared to be in a state of blind fury, standing before Angel and roaring like a mad dog that had just had its testicles stepped on.

"Ms. Angel, you are in breach of contract! To take on your security detail, I turned down several other jobs and cleared the schedules of my best operators just to provide you with service! Damn it! This is an extreme sign of disrespect toward us!"

Angel did not seem intimidated by Rice’s ferocity. Instead, she said with firm resolve, "I signed the contract with Blackwater International, but I suggest you look closely at the terms with your superiors. I have the right to select the security personnel I trust from within your company!"

"Personnel you trust!?"

Rice spotted the Cook and Song Heping’s group walking into the lobby from outside. He pointed an angry finger at them, spit flying from his mouth. "Them?! They aren't even official employees! They aren't professional at all! They’re Russians, and there’s a Chinese guy—you trust them? Are you insane?!"

Angel replied, "Whether they are professional or not isn't for you to say; it’s for me to say. Whether I trust them or not isn't for you to say, either; it’s my decision! I am the client, and my word is final!"

"Even if you change personnel, you still have to compensate us for our losses!"

"It is not your place to discuss losses with me! You are just a mercenary! Stop pestering me; my time is extremely valuable. Get lost, right now!"

Angel’s tough stance made Song Heping look at her in a new light. He couldn't quite figure this girl out. Yesterday, at the scene of the firefight, she had been a total coward, nearly wetting her pants in fear. Yet, facing Rice and his hulking, aggressive mercenaries, she appeared completely calm, as if she didn't take these men seriously at all. This foreign girl was truly a mystery.

The Cook had no intention of getting tangled up with Rice. He crossed his arms and stood to the side with his men to watch the show. Clearly, the matter was settled. Angel was right; while she had contracted with Blackwater International, she held the right to designate anyone within the company—including non-official employees—to provide her security. Rice’s roaring would not change a thing; it was merely an outlet for his rage. After all, in the mercenary circle, being replaced on short notice was a humiliation. It would be perceived as a sign of incompetence. Furthermore, this was a $15,000-a-day contract. Even an officer like Rice, a retired British military man officially hired by Blackwater, could have earned a handsome commission. To take this job, he had indeed set aside time for his team's top-tier operators. But just as they were ready to take over, Angel had told them she was changing her bodyguards, and it was non-negotiable. No wonder he was losing his mind.

*That bitch!* Rice cursed internally, the profanity barely contained behind his teeth.

Angel’s satellite phone suddenly rang. She glanced at the number and pressed the call button.

"Angel? Put them on the phone."

"It's me, okay." After a brief reply, Angel handed the satellite phone to Rice. "It’s General Wood."

Upon hearing this, Rice’s expression shifted. General Wood had retired and was now a senior consultant for Blackwater International. While he was nominally just a consultant, everyone knew his true standing within the company.

Blackwater International, originally known as Blackwater USA, was founded in 1997 by several retired U.S. Navy SEALs and began operations in 1998, with headquarters in North Carolina. It didn't have the long history of South Africa’s E0 company, nor the sheer scale of organizations like AAFES. Yet, strangely, since 2001, the company had become a hot star in the private military contractor circle, securing over $1 billion in government contracts. Their rapid rise was due to the vision and connections of founders Erik Prince and Al Clark. They had hired retired generals and former high-ranking DOD officials to fill so-called "consultant" roles. Once these heavyweights became consultants, Blackwater’s business thrived. In 2003, the U.S. Administrator in Iraq, Paul Bremer, signed an order granting all U.S. military and civilian personnel in Iraq, including private security contractors, criminal immunity. It was effectively the same as being granted a royal pardon. This showed just how deeply and complexly connected Blackwater International was within the military.

The Cook, of course, knew who General Wood was. Seeing that Angel could have him on the line personally, it was clear she was no ordinary person. After a moment of shock, Rice took the phone.

"General... yes... understood... I see..."

The man who had been as fierce as a rabid bulldog just moments ago suddenly turned into a docile kitten. After finishing the call, he handed the phone back to Angel and waved at his men. "We’re leaving!"

As he passed the Cook, the venom in Rice’s gaze was palpable. He squeezed a final sentence through his teeth: "Just you wait!"