Finally, a blue light flashed on the screen, and a blurred figure appeared.
The background seemed to be a study decorated with intricate Persian-style tapestries, the lighting somewhat dim.
The face of the figure had been technically processed, allowing only a blurry outline, yet those eyes, even through the screen and layers of encryption, were piercing enough to penetrate the heart.
"Song?"
An English voice with a distinct Persian accent, deep and magnetic, sounded, with a touch of perfect surprise and familiarity, "What a rare guest. My dear old friend, you haven't contacted me for a long time. What wind blew you onto this line? Heard that you've got Vincent, that old fox in Libya, a bit ruffled recently?"
The voice's owner was none other than Avanti, Song Heping's high-ranking friend within the Persian Revolutionary Guard.
