Song Heping understood this all too well.
Receiving this shipment of arms not only meant gaining a hefty profit, but also shouldering a hot potato.
The matter was far from over!
As the convoy just left the northern outskirts checkpoint of Baghdad, the satellite phone in Song Heping's pocket vibrated.
He glanced at the screen.
A local Baghdad number, but not one in his contacts.
After a moment's hesitation, he pressed the answer button.
"Song! My dear friend! Guess who I am?"
On the other end of the line came a warm, distinctly Southern American accented voice, fluent in English but with a unique twang.
Song Heping's memory was instantly pulled back several years.
That voice, that deliberately exaggerated friendliness, belonged to a well-known figure in a specific circle.
"Robbin." Song Heping calmly said the name: "Quite a surprise. What made you suddenly think of calling me?"
The person on the other end was Robbin, the head of the AAFES Iraq Branch.
