"...My Lord, praise be to Your purity, and transcendent are You, Your noble name is most auspicious, Your dignity is truly great... I seek refuge in the Lord from those expelled demons..."
Muhammad Sayyaf devoutly finished the last sentence of his prayer, and when he stood up from the carpet, a fully armed and trusted confidant approached and quietly reported to him.
"Commander, everything is arranged. We have two hundred men ambushed around the meeting place, and a reserve team of a hundred with SA-7 shoulder-fired anti-air missiles is hidden in an abandoned warehouse outside the town. They can avoid the American surveillance planes.
If the US Army's Special Forces come by helicopter to the meeting spot airspace like before, we can certainly make them relive a 'Black Hawk Down' scenario."
"Hmm... I understand... But still be cautious. All actions must be swift. The combat should not exceed one hour; otherwise, their air support will surely arrive."
"Understood," the confidant said. "This time, we definitely won't let them escape."
Sayif turned silently and walked slowly to the table in the corner.
On the table was a picture frame that held a color photograph.
In the photo, two men who looked very much alike were wearing Arabic robes, hugging each other warmly, and beaming with bright smiles at the camera.
One was himself, the other his brother.
Sayif picked up the frame, studied it for a good while, and then murmured, "Brother, I will make those demons pay to comfort your spirit in heaven..."
After finishing, he took out the satellite phone from his pocket, powered it on, and then dialed Angel's number.
"Is this Miss Angel?"
"It's me, Mr. Sayif. We've already arrived at Sajir Town. Can you inform us of the meeting place now?"
"Of course, but I need to be sure you haven't brought the US Army's Special Forces with you. If it's like before, then we won't have another chance to communicate."
"No, the reason they knew about our actions before was that my car had a tracker installed. My bodyguard has cleared the trackers from the car; they can't track us now."
"Miss Angel, are you sure?"
There was a brief silence in the conversation.
A moment later, Angel replied, "Certain. We came with only nine people, me and my five bodyguards, plus three accompanying ISF members."
"I don't want to see any ISF personnel!"
"Don't worry, they won't be present at the meeting. I'll have them stay somewhere else, out of your sight."
"Good, I'm quite satisfied with your arrangement."
"Mr. Sayif, in that case, where is the meeting place?"
"There's a brick factory to the north of Sajir Town that's abandoned. We can meet there. The time is 3 a.m. sharp. If I don't see you, I will leave immediately. That's it..."
"Wait! Mr. Sayif, I need to be sure that you will personally meet with me. This is very important. If you don't come, I wouldn't dare go either."
"Oh? Miss Angel, you think I've set a trap to take your life? Don't forget, you are the one seeking me. I hold the advantage. You can choose to say no, and the deal between us will be off."
Another brief silence followed.
But the response that came next was somewhat unexpected for Sayif.
"I insist on my terms. If you don't come, indeed, I will consider it a deadly trap. Mr. Sayif, although I'm eager to obtain the evidence you hold about the faking of the 'Kelly Report,' that doesn't mean I'm foolish enough to gamble my life in Illiguo."
Angel's unprecedented assertiveness took Sayif aback.
In previous communications, this American woman hadn't been this demanding.
Even across thousands of miles, Sayif could sense her intense interest in the documentation and her determination to go to all lengths to get it.
When had she become so assertive?
Could she be trying to deceive him too?
Sayif's mind raced.
He had to make a decision immediately — cancel or continue?
In the end, he chose the latter.
After all, an arrow on the bowstring must be shot.
```
Moreover, for a seasoned politician like him, who was skilled in manipulating power, lies were as readily produced as saliva.
As long as Angel was present, everything would be manageable.
"Since you insist so much, to show my sincerity, I can promise you that I will personally be at the scene of the transaction."
"Also, Mr. Sayif, I hope you won't ambush too many Suicide Squad members around our meeting location. The last time at the dam, you brought quite a few men, while I only brought five bodyguards."
Angel's reminder instantly inflamed Sayif with rage.
Five people?! You've got to be kidding!
Those Special Forces that dropped from the sky, weren't they your men?!
Nobody would believe you're not in contact with them!
Do you take me for a fool?!
Inside, Sayif's heart churned with the molten lava of revenge, scorching hot.
But losing patience could spoil a larger scheme.
As long as he could lure Angel into the trap, he would endure.
"Not at all, I'll only bring three cars, at most ten people. You need to understand my concerns, nowhere is safe right now."
"Alright then, I'll trust your promise. Let's meet at the brick factory at three o'clock sharp."
The call ended, followed by a dial tone.
Clutching the satellite phone, Sayif was stunned for a moment before he came to his senses and pressed the power button to turn it off.
On the other end of the line, Angel took several deep breaths and continuously patted her chest after hanging up.
"...How did I do just now?"
Song Heping gave a thumbs up from beside her: "Great, at least I couldn't detect any problem."
"That scared me to death." Angel quickly grabbed a bottle of mineral water, unscrewed the cap, and took several large gulps: "Luckily, I had studied drama at school... "
After drinking, Angel asked, "Song, are you really sure Sayif himself won't show up? Are you confident?"
"Of course he won't." Song Heping replied: "I'm ninety percent confident."
Angel then said, "What if it really is a trap, what do we do?"
Before Song Heping could answer, the chef in the passenger seat received a phone call.
"Hello? This is the chef."
"Chef, this is Thomas. We've confirmed Sayif's exact location. I'm sending the coordinates to you now, good luck."
The conversation was very brief.
A message was quickly transmitted.
The chef immediately took out a GPS locator and a map and marked the coordinates provided.
"He's not in Sajir!"
The chef was excited.
"Song, you guessed right!"
After saying that, he turned and passed the map and GPS locator to Song Heping in the back seat.
"It wasn't a guess..."
Song Heping took the map and compared the coordinates on the GPS locator.
After reviewing them, he muttered a name, "Tikrit?"
```