Libya, "Musician" Defense Command.
The heavy curtains blocked out the blazing sunlight of the Mediterranean, as well as the noise of the city.
The room was dimly lit, with only a few encrypted communication devices and computer screens emitting a faint blue light.
Song Heping sat in a large leather chair, calmly watching the screen of the satellite encrypted phone.
Displayed on the screen was Avanti's calculative face, now showing obvious anxiety.
"Song, the first round of attacks is over, but the situation isn't looking good."
