Chapter 2: Turning the Tide

  He understood his situation. He was no longer Zhao Changsha, a Chinese man, but an American named Laim Jefuca, a military attaché at the US Embassy in Iraq. However, to be precise, he wasn't the original Laim either - the real Laim Jefuca had gone who-knows-where, and this one was a knockoff, a Laim with a Chinese heart, whose accurate name should have been Laim Zhao Changsha. But no matter which Laim it was, what was about to happen was: in just a few hours, Laim would lead the US military into an ambush in Buriza, and disappear from this world with a loud explosion.

  Of course, it's a cliché: due to time-traveling, things might change.

  The conspiracy of the base organization in Iraq is no longer a conspiracy under Zhao Changsha's eyes, but an open plot. Terrorists are openly digging graves under his nose, and this grave may bury both Iraq and the US military, or it may bury Barez and terrorists themselves. It depends on whether they can seize the opportunity to turn the crisis around. He must seize the opportunity to reverse the situation, because he is the only one left, with no choice but to wipe out the terrorist branch of the base organization in Iraq, otherwise, he will have to cross again, and where he crosses to, be it Africa or elsewhere, will depend on fate.

  He didn't have time to think about how his home in Beijing was doing now, nor did he have time to think about where the original Laimu had gone.

  He hastily washed and dressed in a crisp uniform with the insignia of a lieutenant general, which he found in the closet. Once dressed, he knew he had to immediately get into the role of Rhyme and familiarize himself with this new identity. It wasn't too difficult. He discovered that he could sense where things were when he wanted them, so it seemed that Rhyme still retained some knowledge and memories in this body. This was the residential area of the US Embassy in Iraq, a large area where all the staff of the embassy lived. All the necessary information was also readily available, stored on computers. At first, he wasn't confident about starting up the computer; he didn't know the password. A high-level spy like Rhyme's computer should have been set up with an unbreakable password. But a miracle happened - he casually typed in a line of letters and numbers in the password window, and the computer started up.

  Everything he wanted to know was at his fingertips.

  By dawn, he - Zhao Changsha - had a basic understanding of the situation.

  On the surface, the US Ambassador to Iraq is Loomis' superior, but in reality, Loomis' superior is not at the embassy. Loomis has two superiors: one is the Central Intelligence Agency in Washington, D.C., and the other is the intelligence department of the US military command in Iraq. All intelligence obtained by Loomis must be reported to both agencies simultaneously. Loomis holds great power in Iraq, with a public identity as the embassy's military attaché and a true identity as the commander of the US military's intelligence base in Iraq, ranking second only to a handful of high-ranking officials such as General Paul, including responsibility for counter-terrorism intelligence throughout Iraq, building and managing the Iraqi government's intelligence agency, and having the power to modify or veto the US embassy's policies and aid towards the Iraqi government. He also has the right to impeach the US Ambassador to Iraq and even suggest replacing him. Loomis also commands a special operations force equivalent to an enhanced company, code-named "Werewolf", stationed at a US military base several kilometers away, ready to be deployed at his command at any time.

  What surprised him even more was that the original Lime actually had an enormous amount of funds that would never be used up. In the United States, Switzerland, Britain and France, there were more than a dozen accounts, each with tens of millions or even hundreds of millions of dollars, and the Central Intelligence Agency alone allocated more than $200 million to Iraq's anti-terrorism intelligence fund.

  The US has a lot of money, no wonder the Iraq war started and Congress allocated tens of billions of dollars.

  Now, he only needs to tap a few keys on his laptop keyboard and transfer the money online to use it at will. Of course, anti-terrorism intelligence funds can be used, but they are subject to network monitoring and can only be used for anti-terrorism intelligence work.

  The sky outside was gradually brightening, and the dawn light passing through the glass window dyed the white curtains a deep red. He walked to the window, pulled open the curtains, and pushed open the window, and the morning wind rushed in. The wind carried a hint of gunpowder smell. Looking out into the distance, rows of tall palm trees swayed in the wind. This was Baghdad's urban area, where high-rise buildings stood alongside golden minarets and domes of mosques, forming a fascinating contrast. However, this harmony was disrupted by the occasional "boom boom" of gunfire, and every now and then, one or two black hawk helicopters or a formation of F-16 fighter jets would fly over the city.

  "Ding Dong——" The doorbell rang, and he walked out of the bedroom. Outside was a living room that could accommodate more than 30 people, with six doors leading to different rooms: the bedroom, dining room, conference room, office, and a pair of large doors that led outside to the elevator in the building. He went over to open the door, and a waiter came in, dressed in all white, wearing an Arabic headscarf, pushing a food cart. "Mr. Lime, your breakfast has arrived," the waiter said. Lime looked at his watch, 7:00 sharp. "Thank you," he replied, surprised that the English he spoke was authentic American slang, whereas before crossing over, his English speaking ability was as clumsy as an American trying to speak Chinese. The waiter expertly pushed the cart into the dining room, set down the breakfast, and retreated. He took out a pistol from the drawer of his desk and holstered it on himself, then walked into the dining room. On the table were three sandwiches, two eggs, and a glass of milk. He sat down to eat, just finishing wiping his mouth with a napkin when the phone in the living room rang. He got up to answer it; it was a call from the embassy apartment security guard, saying that a Mr. Briza had sent over a "messenger" who had some important information to present to him personally.

  What was meant to come has finally arrived. He ordered the "messenger" to enter.

  Before long, a U.S. Army National Guard sergeant first class brought in the so-called "messenger".

  The "messenger" looked like a terrorist, with thick black whiskers covering his face, a sharp nose like an eagle's beak, and eyes gleaming with cold light. The young man was wrapped in a headscarf, and the long robe on his body was like a shroud, wrapping him tightly from head to toe. Rhyme knew that it was this "messenger" who had detonated the bomb, sending an attack signal to the base organization, resulting in the annihilation of the US military. This "messenger" must have had a bomb on him, but where did he hide it? There were several layers of security checks at the embassy apartment, so why didn't they detect the bomb? If the bomb wasn't on the "messenger", it was possible that there were accomplices waiting with bombs on Bayazid Road.

  This "messenger" must be firmly controlled.

  Laim stretched out his hand and gestured for the "messenger" to sit down.

  "The messenger" was quite polite, bowing and handing over a letter from his chest. This was the "bait" that led to the death of 139 American soldiers, written in beautiful cursive script: "Dear Mr. Lime, under your leadership and after my long efforts, I have successfully turned two terrorists, Ali and Yousuf, who were originally officers of the Iraqi Republican Guard, into loyalists. After Saddam's regime fell, they followed Al-Qaeda and engaged in anti-American activities, becoming important members of Al-Qaeda's branch in our country. When I was exiled in France, I had provided financial assistance to them and had a good relationship with them. After contacting and negotiating with them, we agreed to transfer $300,000 to their account in Switzerland and promised to arrange suitable jobs for them in the government. They accepted the conditions and agreed to leave Al-Qaeda and work for the government, providing important intelligence on the personnel and activities of Al-Qaeda's branch. Due to the intense terrorist activity in their hiding place, we request military support to ensure absolute safety and escort them to a safe location."

  "Ding ding ding---" The urgent telephone ringing sounded. He picked up the phone, with a French accent in English: "Mr. Lime? I'm Briza, I think you are receiving the messenger I sent..."

  As expected, that bastard Buriza is dreaming of ambushing American troops.

  Brezza was worried that the "messenger" had not made himself clear, arousing Lime's suspicions, and he personally called to repeat and confirm the intelligence presented by the "messenger", saying that the two defectors were currently hiding in a mosque in a village called "Bayaji" on the south side of Baghdad, with only a few bodyguards around them, protected by a Sunni Muslim tribe, requesting the US military to respond as soon as possible.

  Laim just tied up Brie so tightly that his teeth ached.

  Zhao Changsha had gathered intelligence before crossing over, which clearly recorded that the base organization had laid an ambush in Bayazicun village with more than 400 armed elements, forming a powerful firepower network consisting of various weapons such as submachine guns, automatic rifles, hand grenades, rocket launchers, and light and heavy machine guns. More than 30 snipers were hiding in dark forts, walls, and underground, waiting for the opportunity to strike. Simple bombs, roadside bombs, and powerful bombs modified from howitzer shells were buried in the village square. The plan was that the "messenger" would lead the US military to receive the defectors, and when the US military entered the ambush circle, the "messenger" would detonate the bomb, launch a general attack signal, and then the base organization's snipers, firepower network, and various bombs would simultaneously pour towards the US military.

  This is a meticulously designed organizational death trap. Whoever falls into it will receive an irretrievable and non-refundable death certificate from God.

  The first step is how to deal with this "messenger".

  The "messenger" sat upright on the sofa in the living room, hands clasped together. Lem gazed at the tightly wrapped Arab robe and wondered if a bomb might be hidden under it without being detected by the guards. If there was a bomb on the "messenger", this terrorist might suddenly become impulsive, aim at him, blow up the living room, and then escape in the chaos to receive a reward from Al-Qaeda? It would be easy to get rid of the "messenger" first, pull out his gun and shoot him dead. Although he would be safe, he would also expose himself, and Breeze and Al-Qaeda would also be safe. Because the "messenger" did not bring Lem into the ambush circle of Al-Qaeda, did not send a successful signal to Breeze, Breeze and Al-Qaeda would hide like mice without a trace.

  "Impulsiveness is the devil, I won't be impulsive, you little brat shouldn't be impulsive either!" Laim thought, Heaven's wrath can be forgiven, but human's wrath cannot be survived. This is an old Chinese saying, if I don't send Buri Zha to meet his maker, then I would have come from China to Iraq for nothing.

  Stabilize the "messenger" first.

  Laim called the guard aside and whispered to him, "You must keep a close eye on this 'messenger' and keep him under strict control in the dining hall." The guard nodded and took the "messenger" to the dining hall. Laim smiled at the "messenger" and said, "You haven't had breakfast yet, I'll have someone bring it over right away. According to Mr. Briza's arrangement, I will assemble the troops and you will lead them to Bayazit to meet up. To ensure our actions are covert and confidential, before we act, you must stay here and not go anywhere else."

  "I understand. Mr. Rhyme, God bless you, Mr. Briza ordered me to follow your command." The "messenger" was very obedient, sitting by the dinner table motionless and well-behaved, but with a mind full of evil intentions, he declined Mr. Rhyme's breakfast offer, not even taking a sip of the plain water that Mr. Rhyme had poured for him. Apparently, he was afraid that Mr. Rhyme would poison him.

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