Chapter 25: Modifying the AKM

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Early the next morning, Song Heping sat in a chair beside the container house, drinking lemonade.

When he had gotten up, his head had felt as though it were splitting apart.

Those bottles of Scotch the Cook had bought last night might have been counterfeit.

If it had been genuine liquor, why would his head hurt so badly?

“Sang.”

Grey Wolf had appeared behind him at some point.

“Morning.”

“You’ve got a headache too?”

“Yeah. The liquor the Cook bought last night was probably fake.”

Hearing Grey Wolf say that, Song Heping laughed.

He had not expected anyone else to have reached the same conclusion.

After the Iligo War, the liquor trade had flourished as well.

Everything was expensive in a war zone.

Smuggled liquor was a respectable business here.

At present, most of the alcohol in the Green Zone came from questionable sources, and the prices were twice those in ordinary countries.

That was war.

A nightmare for ordinary people, a paradise for the ambitious.

Song Heping asked, “The Cook isn’t up yet?”

Grey Wolf glanced back at the container house and nodded. “No. He drank too much too.”

Then he said to Song Heping, “You drank that much last night and still managed to get up this early. You really can hold your liquor.”

Song Heping had stolen the show the previous night.

He had made a name for himself in a single battle.

In the mercenary world, scandals traveled far—and so did good deeds.

After the battle at the overpass, quite a few people in Bakda’s mercenary circles now knew that a new recruit from Huaguo was exceptionally capable. On his first mission, he had successfully protected the VIP at the most critical moment.

Reputation was money.

A man’s reputation could raise the value of his entire team.

The Cook was delighted.

That was why he had opened six bottles of whiskey the night before and bought everyone a round of tequila.

It was deliberate publicity, really—a way of telling everyone: If you have a job, come to us. We’re strong. Our team is packed with experts!

Song Heping had seen through it and felt that the Cook had not had it easy either.

Who said only people back home expected others to drink a toast? Foreigners did the same.

Thomas had shown up last night as well.

Song Heping was quite grateful to him.

Thomas had recommended him to the Cook’s team, giving him, at least, a way to make money.

So Song Heping had voluntarily raised several glasses to him.

Thomas, however, had looked rather unhappy. He no longer possessed his former enthusiasm, and Song Heping could not tell whether work had gone badly, he had eaten something disagreeable, or he simply had not adapted to the local climate and was suffering from diarrhea.

Many people in Iligo struggled to adjust, so Song Heping had not thought much of it.

“Any work today?”

Song Heping still remembered what Grey Wolf had said before.

He and the Cook’s people were unregistered wandering souls—freelance mercenaries.

When there was work, they earned money. When there was none, they waited.

Poor at midnight, rich by dawn.

No wonder the Cook had told him not to save money, but to enjoy himself while he could.

Grey Wolf shook his head. “Haven’t heard of anything yet. We’ll see what the Cook has planned after he wakes up.”

The Cook was the core of the team.

Song Heping was beginning to understand why those former paratroopers serving as close-protection specialists—White Bear, Grey Wolf, and the others—were willing to follow a man with no military-service experience and serve under him.

If White Bear or Grey Wolf took command, the whole team would truly have to live on air.

“What about Angel’s contract? We only handled it for one day?”

Song Heping still missed those ten-thousand-dollar days.

They had been wonderful.

If they could find work that good every day, he would achieve his modest goal in less than six months.

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Grey Wolf said, “Mad Dog’s team and the ISF—the Iligo Security Force—have taken over her protection now. There’s nothing left for us.”

Then he laughed. “You think a small team like ours gets ten-thousand-dollar jobs every day?”

Song Heping said, “I’m going to wash up and head to the gun shop.”

Grey Wolf stared at him. “What are you going there for?”

“I’m buying a scope for my rifle. I’ll pick up some ammunition while I’m at it.”

Grey Wolf looked at Song Heping with renewed respect.

This kid was not stingy after all.

At first, everyone had assumed that this newcomer from Huaguo was miserly. He had earned a thousand dollars and still refused to buy even a bottle of liquor; the Cook had paid for everything the night before.

Yet today he was talking about buying a scope.

Even the cheapest 1P29 scope, with installation and modification, would cost five hundred dollars here—half of what he had earned the previous day.

Seen that way, he did not seem miserly at all.

Song Heping left the camp, bought a large hamburger and a cup of cola at the McDonald’s in the Green Zone, and then went straight to the gun shop.

Harvey was in the store. When he saw Song Heping, he did not bother greeting him and continued with his own work.

“Look around yourself. Tell me when you’ve decided.”

“I want a 1P29 scope. Do you have one?”

The 1P29 was a four-power fixed-power scope designed and manufactured in the former Soviet Union. It could be mounted on all kinds of Soviet-pattern firearms, even machine guns such as the PKM. It was a classic Soviet scope, functionally similar to the American ACOG.

It was not particularly advanced, but it was rugged, dependable, and relatively inexpensive.

“Yes.”

Harvey did not even pause to think. He turned, retrieved one, and set it in front of Song Heping.

“Used?”

It was obvious that the scope in Song Heping’s hand was not new. Its condition gave that away immediately.

“What? You want a new one? I have one.”

Harvey turned and brought out another 1P29 scope, placing it before Song Heping.

“This one’s seven hundred dollars. That one’s three hundred. Modification will cost another three hundred.”

When Harvey quoted the prices, Song Heping felt a sharp pang in his wallet.

He picked up the new scope, examined it, then looked again at the used one.

Fixed-power scopes were not easily damaged. Unlike more delicate holographic or red-dot sights, the 1P29 used a physical reticle. As long as the scope itself was intact, it could continue to serve.

“How long has the used one been in service?”

Song Heping could not help asking as he studied the worn 1P29, whose edges had been rubbed bare of paint.

“You’re asking me? I don’t know either. Ask it yourself and see if it tells you. Anyway, I salvage these. I only care whether they work, not how long they’ve been used. Buy it if you want it. If not, get out!”

Harvey had no desire to waste time catering to a penniless novice like Song Heping.

Salvaged?

Song Heping could not help holding the scope beneath his nose and sniffing it, as if he could truly detect the scent of blood.

Who knew whether it had been recovered from the body of a former Iraqi soldier or an ex-mercenary who had been shot dead? Its original owner was probably long gone from this world.

The new and used scopes differed in price by more than twofold.

And the modification itself was not cheap.

Older Romanian-made AKMs did not have a side rail; newer models did. Song Heping’s rifle was an older model, so he needed to have a side rail installed.

And the machining fee alone was three hundred dollars.

It was robbery!

Running a gun shop was damn profitable!

If he bought the new scope, his entire thousand dollars would disappear right here. He would not even have enough left to buy ammunition.

He suspected Harvey was taking advantage of a newcomer and regretted not bringing Grey Wolf with him.

“Boss, I’ll take this one…”

Song Heping handed the new scope back to Harvey and kept the old one.

“Hmph!”

Harvey gave a cold snort, as if confirming that he had judged the man correctly.

A pauper was a pauper.

“Three hundred for the modification. Six hundred total.”

Song Heping felt another stab of pain.

Six hundred dollars converted into renminbi would have been an ordinary person’s annual salary back home.

“Boss, if I do the modification myself, could you lower the price? Just charge me for the materials you use.”

Song Heping tentatively tried to bargain.

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Harvey snorted again.

The modification required riveting a side-rail mount onto the left side of the receiver of the old AKM, above the trigger guard, so that it could accommodate the 1P29 scope.

The entire rifle had to be disassembled, and holes had to be drilled to secure the mount. The drilling had to be extraordinarily precise.

It was skilled work.

The side rail was already inferior to a Picatinny rail and had a tendency to loosen. If the job was done poorly, the rifle could be ruined outright.

Harvey suddenly felt a mischievous impulse.

So the kid wanted to save a few dollars in labor?

He would see how capable the boy really was!

He remembered that this newcomer from Huaguo was inexperienced and had little money.

The previous day, the kid had come to buy a full set of individual equipment. He had haggled over every item and ended up spending only a little over two thousand dollars.

A novice like him thought he could modify a rifle himself?

What did he take himself for?

If he ruined it, Harvey would enjoy watching him cry.

And after ruining it, would he not have to buy another AKM from Harvey?

With these thoughts, Harvey’s little算盘 began to spin merrily, and he suddenly became generous.

“All right. Do it yourself. I won’t charge you for materials. I’ll sell you the 1P29 for three hundred dollars.”

“Really?!”

Song Heping was overjoyed.

It was early morning, and the shop had few customers.

Only two or three mercenaries were browsing the merchandise.

Harvey was happy to find himself some entertainment.

The others heard the commotion and came over to watch Song Heping as well.

Everyone was waiting for a spectacle.

“The equipment’s over there. Go modify it yourself.”

Harvey pointed toward a small lathe in the corner, then added a warning.

“Don’t damage my equipment. If you do, you’ll pay for it!”

“Fine!”

Song Heping grabbed his AKM assault rifle and hurried to the corner of the shop. After examining the small lathe and the tools, he expertly dismantled the rifle into its component parts, took control of the machine, and began working with a steady whir.

Harvey and the other mercenaries could not resist coming over to watch.

After one look, they were all stunned.

This…

They said an expert could recognize another expert.

The moment Harvey saw Song Heping’s technique, he regretted everything.

Damn it, this was a seasoned hand!

From alignment to drilling, every movement was extraordinarily precise.

Sharp eyes, steady hands, complete composure.

He had been tricked!

Harvey furrowed his brows in anguish.

He had actually let the kid take advantage of him.

Before long, Song Heping finished modifying the AKM. He slid the 1P29 scope into place and gave it a tug; it felt secure enough. He raised the rifle and sighted toward the outside, then inspected the reticle and battery compartment once more. After confirming that everything was in order, he took out three hundred dollars and handed it to Harvey.

“Boss, here’s three hundred dollars. Oh, and I’ll take one basic load of ammunition too.”

Song Heping was delighted.

He had never expected Harvey to agree to let him perform the modification himself.

He had saved a fortune!

He had only just received the ammunition when Grey Wolf’s voice came from the doorway.

“Sang! Hurry up! We’ve got a new job!”

Song Heping turned around. Sure enough, it was Grey Wolf.

The man wore the excited expression of someone who had just won a million-dollar jackpot. One look was enough for Song Heping to know that something good had happened.

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