"Tell me, where are the Dahmars?"
In the grove, Song Heping stepped on the face of a rebel officer with his shoe sole.
The guy was sniffling and crying, pleading continuously, "Please, don't kill me."
"You're not worth killing. It's the Dahmars I want to kill. Just tell me, and I won't kill you."
Song Heping spoke coldly, applying more pressure with his foot.
The person beneath his shoe began to wail again.
"He ran west, about five hundred meters. That's the parking spot."
Suddenly, the sound of helicopter blades thundered across the sky.
Song Heping looked up and saw the MI-17 helicopter.
Hmm...
The three million US Dollars spent on the Ferrari was pretty worth it. At least the aircraft was painted white, and it seemed to bear UN markings upon closer inspection.
Money can make the devil grind the mill.
This old saying popped into Song Heping's mind once again.
He lifted his foot and released the rebel officer lying on the ground.
