"Then let them suspect." Masood said coldly, "Without us pinning down the remnants of 1515 on the Northern line and the militia supported by Persia, the cost for Americans in Illiguo would be much greater. They need us far more than we need them. At least at this stage, it looks that way."
He sat down again, folding his hands on the table.
"As for Song Heping... instruct the intelligence department to use the most covert channels to pass on the message that the US Air Force has already taken off from Kuwait to him."
Little Masood hesitated for a moment, "Father, this might anger Washington."
"Then let them be angry." Masood's voice did not waver in the slightest, "Politics is a game of benefits, not a game of emotions. If Song Heping wins this round, he will remember who helped him. As for the Americans... regardless of the outcome of this crisis, they need our presence in Northern Illiguo. Who else can they turn to? Baghdad? Tehran?"
