"I know," Robbin's voice was calm, unusually calm.
"Our plan..."
"Our plan has no problems."
Robbin turned around, and for the first time, a trace of emotion appeared in his blue-gray eyes that even he was unwilling to admit—an instinctive alertness in the face of an unknown opponent, long forgotten.
"The problem is, Song Heping did not follow our plan to jump into the pit, it was our mistake."
He put down the wine glass and walked toward the large map of the Iligo War Zone on the wall.
Red thumbtacks marked the territorial boundaries of various tribal armed forces, blue thumbtacks were the remnants of US Army bases, green thumbtacks were Iliko Government Army outposts, and there were only six yellow thumbtacks, marking the six main facilities of the "Musician" Defense Company in Illiguo.
Six months ago, there were only two yellow thumbtacks.
Three months ago, it became four.
Today, six.
Robbin reached out, took down a white thumbtack, and pinned it on Mosul's position.
