"Listen to me," Duke interrupted him, speaking in a heavy tone: "The coup happened forty-five minutes ago. Rashid now controls the President's Mansion, the Ministry of Defense, and the communications hub. Your father was attacked on his way to Kirkuk, and now he's severely injured and unconscious."
Little Masoud felt the blood in his body freeze instantly.
"He..."
His voice caught in his throat.
"He's alive." Duke immediately continued, "But he's lost consciousness, though he still shows signs of life. Our people got him out at the last moment."
"Where is he now? Hospital? Which hospital?"
Little Masoud clutched the satellite phone tightly, his speech unconsciously quickening.
"Your father is on a helicopter now, nearing Baghdad." Duke paused, seemed to choose his words carefully, then said, "The head of the escort team is Song Heping."
The mention of this name slightly eased his tense nerves.
Song Heping.
He knew this guy.
