The Beirut port area was now sounding the alarm.
After eliminating the Mossad agents in the two SUVs, Song Heping turned to the car that hadn't been destroyed, and reached to pull at the trunk.
The car was damaged, locked, and wouldn't open.
He raised his hand and fired two shots at the latch, opening the door crudely and simply.
The trunk was filled with tactical gear, just as he had expected.
He quickly equipped himself with various individual soldier supplies...
Submachine gun, bullets, hand grenades.
Also a combat vest, bullet-proof plate...
Now that things have escalated, relying on just the Glock 17 in his hand was absolutely insufficient; he had to be armed to the teeth to have a chance of survival.
After grabbing the gear, preparing the canvas backpack, Song Heping looked up at the night sky, raised his middle finger to the air, and mouthed the words -
"FUCK! Come on, bastard!"
