Chapter 95

"Friend?" Grant turned around suspiciously, leaning on the chair's backrest with his right elbow and furrowing his brow as he tried to identify the newcomer.

Robert and Osborne entered, escorting a disheveled individual.

This person was wearing a familiar suit, but his well-groomed appearance was now in stark contrast to the blood on his face and his hair in disarray. A droplet of blood clung to the corner of his mouth, dripping onto the ground.

Grant's eyelids twitched, and he accidentally moved the stool, causing it to make a noise.

Startled by the sound, the wounded man raised his head with difficulty.

Cecilio?!

Grant's reaction was one of intense excitement. He stood up abruptly, stumbled backward a few steps, unintentionally striking Tang Dao's table in disbelief. He then turned his gaze from Cecilio to Tang Dao, who responded with a shrug, appearing somewhat helpless. "I just invited Mr. Cecilio as our guest. Who would have thought he would be so audacious?"

"Perhaps you think I'm merely a second-rate arms dealer," Tang Dao "complained" to Robert and Osborne. "Our guest has arrived; please have him take a seat."

The two of them placed Cecilio into a chair, and he appeared distressed and uncomfortable.

"He's the right person!" Grant exclaimed loudly, as if underscoring a point.

Tang Dao chuckled in response, tapping his fingers on the table. "What can he do to me in Somalia?"

To put it plainly, the opposing party was just a mercenary company. Why would they attempt a large-scale operation in Mogadishu, copying Tang Dao's tactics? Even if they managed to do so, it would be a significant challenge without air supremacy. Unlike the Delta Force's predicament in "Black Hawk Down," there wouldn't be such widespread support.

If the opponent was intelligent, they would avoid instigating a war on foreign soil.

"He's an agent of the Lord."

"Then let them send someone else."

Tang Dao's response effectively silenced Grant, who walked up to Cecilio, kneeled beside him, and looked at him with a smile. However, he couldn't meet Tang Dao's gaze directly.

"You think I gave you face before, but why do you assume I'm easy to push around?" Tang Dao grabbed Cecilio's hair, yanked his head backward, and gently slapped his face. "In your current state, would you like to try kneeling and begging me?"

Surprisingly, when Tang Dao made this suggestion, there was a glimmer of hope in Cecilio's eyes. He resisted the pain and dropped to his knees, bowing his head to the ground while tears streamed down his face. He began to sob.

"Mr. Grant, what do you think I should do?" Tang Dao turned to Grant and inquired.

"I..." Grant's muscles tensed, and he observed Cecilio, who was pleading and looking at him, as well as Tang Dao, who watched the unfolding drama calmly. He felt his scalp tingle and understood that Tang Dao was presenting him with a choice.

Either Cecilio dies.

Or his wife dies.

The best way to draw the enemy into one's camp is to make them forsake their core beliefs, even to the point of self-loathing. Before justice prevails, darkness must prevail!

"Unforgivable," Grant gritted his teeth and uttered the word.

"Then I'd appreciate your help in resolving it," Tang Dao said. He opened a drawer, revealing several documents, and placed a pistol on top. He pointed at Cecilio's forehead and instructed Grant, "Aim here and shoot."

As a lieutenant colonel in the Rangers, each promotion he achieved was a result of battlefield experience. He possessed immense confidence in his military expertise and held himself in high regard. However, his trembling hand betrayed his fear.

He was afraid, hesitant, and uncertain. Tang Dao didn't rush him but instead rested his folded hands on the table and watched the spectacle.

Grant slowly raised his hand, pointing the pistol's muzzle at Cecilio's forehead. Cecilio's body trembled, his thumb disengaged the safety, and his index finger rested on the trigger. He wrestled with a moral dilemma, caught between agony and the decision to fire. As he was about to squeeze the trigger, Tang Dao placed one hand on Grant's wrist, pressing it down. "Let's leave this matter to the professionals. I invite you for a cup of coffee."

Tang Dao retrieved the pistol with his other hand, tossed it onto the coffee table, and nodded to Robert and the others. They then led Cecilio to the door, where he continued to struggle and cry out.

It was akin to the desperate thrashing of a doomed pig.

"Please, have a seat."

Tang Dao extended his hand to invite Grant to sit down. He then prepared two cups of instant coffee himself. "Give it a try."

Grant raised his trembling hands, took a sip, and found the coffee bitter. Nonetheless, he couldn't deny its quality. He nodded begrudgingly.

Indeed, humanity could be fickle.

Tang Dao produced a stack of checks from the drawer, filled them out, tore them off, and placed them on the table. "Two million dollars; this is yours."

Grant's attention was piqued. He raised his head abruptly, glanced at Tang Dao, and couldn't help but be drawn to the checks.

"I can't sustain my appetite in Somalia alone. What do you say? Every four months, I'll provide you with a $50,000 subsidy for your family. How does that sound, sir?"

One hundred thousand dollars?

That would amount to $150,000 annually in their bank account?!

Grant struggled to find words to describe his emotions. Would "tempted" be an understatement?

"I can't just let you off the hook without any conditions," Grant hesitated.

"I simply want to befriend you. Do you believe that friends would betray you?" Tang Dao wore an innocent smile. If he weren't worried about making Grant feel nauseated, he might have considered a more affectionate approach. "In fact, I believe you could consider a side gig."

As expected, Grant exclaimed inwardly and looked down at the checks. He swallowed hard. "What side gig?"

"I think you Rangers, instead of being idle, could help me train soldiers. Don't rush to refuse; I can offer compensation, and you won't be disappointed." Tang Dao leaned in slightly, as if tempting Grant further.

"Can I think it over?" Grant inquired cautiously.

"Of course, I'm here just to treat you to coffee today. Take your time to consider it."

The two clinked their coffee cups together lightly. The coffee appeared to have been consumed, and Tang Dao politely arranged for Grant's transportation back.

Once Grant had left, Tang Dao picked up the pistol from the coffee table, removed the magazine, and found it empty.

Turning his gaze to another corner of the table, he noticed several documents arranged like a "shrine," and a video recorder was recording. Could there be footage of a U.S. military lieutenant colonel aiming a gun at the company's shareholders?

It seemed like there might be some interesting developments in store.