"Director Simon."
Song Heping interrupted his opening speech, finally turning around.
"If apologies were enough, what would we need justice for?"
He looked at the leader of America's intelligence with a contemptuous smile, his fist clenched tightly.
Simon was embarrassed, momentarily at a loss for words, unsure how to continue.
Song Heping continued:
"You Americans, are you used to pushing so-called 'allies' out to take bullets as cannon fodder when you need others to risk their lives; and when not needed or cumbersome, mercilessly stabbing them in the back, under the guise of 'strategic adjustments'?"
Simon's face momentarily stiffened, and the muscles of the two bodyguards behind him tensed instantly, instinctively reaching for the holster under their arms, their eyes sharpening.
