Chapter 1370
The war is coming
Chapter 1370 The war is coming
Two days later.
Sixty kilometers south of Hurmatu, the temporary command post in Lavo town.
When Song Heping got out of the car, the fluorescent hands on the clock face were exactly at nine o'clock.
The roar of the diesel generator came from the corner of the yard, mixed with the faint sound of armored vehicle engines in the distance, weaving an invisible net in the dry desert air.
"Old monitor!"
Jiang Feng strode out of the shadows of the warehouse area, the beam of his tactical flashlight tracing rapid paths across the sand.
"All units are in position."
Jiang Feng's voice was very low, but very clear.
"Samir's men have controlled all exits of Highway 1 on the eastern front. Nassin's Al-Qaeda Brigade is maneuvering in the dark in the western desert. Abuyu's Kold Brigade is hiding in the northern valley. Our men and the government special forces have been moving south overnight and have already crossed the Tigris River. It is estimated that we will be in position in about half a day."
Song Heping didn't stop and walked straight towards the warehouse: "Have the troop numbers for all participating units been confirmed?"
“It’s been confirmed three times.” Jiang Feng followed his pace: “13,000 on the east front, 6,000 on the west front, 8,000 on the north front, and 950 on our side on the south front, totaling more than 22,000.”
The warehouse doors were wide open, and the interior was as bright as day. Six military floodlights hung from the steel beams, illuminating the mountains of supplies with sharp, defined edges.
Ammunition boxes were stacked from the entrance all the way to the depths of the warehouse. The specifications and batch numbers were marked in black paint on the yellowish-brown wooden boxes.
Dozens of soldiers were counting the last few boxes of anti-tank missiles, the metal missiles gleaming coldly under the lights.
"How is the situation on the eastern front?" Song Heping asked.
“Samir hid all his T-72s in the ruins of the precast concrete plant,” Jiang Feng said. “This time, eighty-six T-72s were brought in, each equipped with forty high-explosive shells and twenty armor-piercing shells. The artillery positions are in the jujube grove five kilometers away, and the coordinates of forty-eight howitzers have been completed. When the reconnaissance team went out, they captured a 15-year-old boy who was terrified. He said there were at least twenty anti-tank teams in the city, using ‘Kornet’ guns that they had previously stolen from the government army’s warehouse.”
Song Heping frowned. The Kornet anti-tank missile could penetrate one meter of homogeneous steel armor at a range of three thousand meters, while the T-72's frontal armor was only four hundred and eighty millimeters thick.
"Tell Samir that during the assault, the infantry should clear the buildings first, and the tanks should not rush into the narrow streets."
“He already said so.” Jiang Feng nodded. “He replied that he brought a special anti-sniper team this time, with two people in each team, equipped with thermal imaging and 12.7mm anti-materiel rifles.”
The two walked through the warehouse and came to the open storage yard behind it.
Two heavily modified Mercedes-Benz command vans are parked here, with butterfly-shaped satellite antennas mounted on their roofs.
A technician wearing glasses poked his head out of the carriage: "Boss, all the drones are on standby. The real-time satellite data stream that the US military promised to provide has been connected and tested, with a delay of no more than two seconds."
Song Heping glanced at his watch: "What else is on the US military's side?"
"Rear Admiral Duke said that their USS Carl Vinson is already in position in the Persian Gulf and the carrier air wing is on high alert."
Jiang Feng flipped through the tablet in his hand.
"The B-1B is armed with JDAMs, and the F-15E carries 'Sniper' pods. The key is the drones. Starting at 4 a.m. tomorrow, six 'Reaper' drones will work in shifts, 24 hours a day. In an emergency, the response time for an air strike can be reduced to eight minutes."
"Did you send JTAC?"
"Twelve teams, two people per team, have been sent over and have already infiltrated the various attack echelons."
Jiang Feng swiped the screen, his gaze sweeping over the information.
"Three of them were assigned to our mercenary battalion. They are now setting up observation posts in the ruins of a textile factory on the south bank of the Tigris River, where they can see a large number of armed men gathering in the town hall square."
Song Heping stopped and looked into the darkness to the north.
Forty-five kilometers away, Tikrit is asleep—or rather, pretending to be asleep.
The 1515 armed forces are not fools either.
In the past two days, I have mobilized a large number of troops. Anyone who isn't blind can sense that something is about to happen.
He also knew how many eyes were open in the darkness in that city at that moment, and how many guns had their safety off.
"What about the western front? What's the problem with Nassin?"
“The night vision equipment is slightly lacking.” Jiang Feng answered decisively: “I have already made arrangements. At 2:00 AM tomorrow, the US military’s C-130s will airdrop three batches of supplies, including two hundred AN/PVS-14s and their matching batteries.”
"What about Abyu?"
"The Koldeids are very well hidden."
Jiang Feng's lips twitched slightly, revealing a smile.
"Eight thousand people and forty-two tanks were crammed into a dry river valley that stretched for more than ten kilometers. Camouflage nets were strung overhead, and a few tattered tents were deliberately left outside, making it look like a camp of fleeing herders. Their scouts discovered three tunnel exits, all in the old district of the northern city. Abuyu wanted to send a special forces team to block them in advance and asked me if I could send a small detachment to help."
Song Heping thought for a few seconds: "Give him a squad of twelve men, equipped with thermal imaging and silenced weapons. The tunnel entrance may connect to the entire underground network. Don't go too deep; just bury sensors and vibration alarms."
"clear."
They headed towards the main building of the command center.
This is a school building.
Four antennas of different types were mounted on the roof, trembling slightly in the night breeze.
The command center is about half the size of a basketball court. It was originally an air-raid shelter for the school, but was later reinforced and expanded for military use.
In times of war, any sturdy building will be repurposed for military use.
The walls are bare concrete, coated with moisture-proof paint, and covered with screens and maps.
A dozen or so staff officers sat in front of the curved control console in the center, each wearing headphones and with at least three monitors in front of them.
No one looked up; only the sound of fingers tapping on the keyboard was as dense as rain.
The main screen wall, composed of twelve 70-inch LED screens, is currently displaying the real-time situation of the battlefield:
The top left corner shows satellite infrared imagery, where the building outlines of Tikrit city are presented in varying shades of red, with several heat sources particularly concentrated, marked next to them as "suspected gathering areas".
The upper right corner shows a signals intelligence map, with countless white dots flashing randomly within the city limits, representing the distribution of radio communications.
There are three clear tracks moving from west to east.
Those might be vehicles.
The six largest screens in the center display a comprehensive situational map. The crimson Tikrit is surrounded by blue arrows pointing in four directions, each arrow displaying unit designations and real-time distances.
The blue arrow on the eastern line is closest to the edge of the city, only twelve kilometers away.
The most eye-catching feature is the countdown clock on the right wall:
41:03:17
The red numbers, each as big as a washbasin, beat like a heart in the dimly lit command center.
"Commander, the video conference channel has been established, and all four commanders are online."
The communications officer spoke while keeping his eyes fixed on the multiple status indicator lights in front of him: "Encryption level A, latency test passed, we can begin."
Song Heping stepped onto the central command platform.
This is a platform that is fifty centimeters above the ground, from which you can look down on the entire hall.
There are only three things on the console: an encrypted communication terminal and a physical battlefield sandbox.
"Get in."
The screen wall switches instantly.
In the top left corner of the screen, Major General Samir's face almost fills the entire screen.
The light behind him was dim, and it was clear that he was in a field command vehicle.
A corner of the map board came into view, covered with arrows and circles drawn in red and blue pens.
"boss."
He still addressed me by my old title, even though I was now a major general in the National Defense Force, I couldn't shake the respect I showed him.
"My men are in position. Eighty-six tanks, one hundred and twelve infantry fighting vehicles, and forty-eight artillery pieces. The front is three kilometers wide, and the planned attack depth is five kilometers, to the edge of the old city."
The image in the upper right corner shows Colonel Nassin. He is sitting in a concrete room with unpainted walls and clearly visible exposed stencil marks.
In the corner of the picture, there is a charcoal stove with a copper kettle boiling tea, steaming hot.
"The western blockade will be completely completed within ten hours."
Nassin's English had a heavy Persian accent.
“But the desert terrain is too open, and I need more sensors and patrol vehicles. Right now, there is only one interception point every ten kilometers, and the gaps are too large.”
In the bottom left image, Abuyu is adjusting his headset.
On the control panel behind him, an AK-74U short assault rifle lay horizontally on the map.
"The northern front is ready," Abuyu stated succinctly. "All forty-two tanks are in firing positions, each equipped with forty-five rounds of ammunition. The coordinates of the three tunnel exits I discovered have been shared. I request a precision artillery barrage on the exit areas two hours before the general offensive, sealing the entrances with concrete-breaking shells." The lower right image shows Major General Khalid Jassim of the government forces. He sits in a standard command post, with the Irian flag and military flag behind him, the stars on his shoulder insignia gleaming under specially adjusted lighting.
"Government forces are fully prepared."
His voice was the clearest: "We have set up a civilian reception center in the Samarra direction, which can accommodate 20,000 people and is equipped with medical teams and enough food and water for three days. The signs for the civilian safety passage have been completed and will be deployed six hours before the start of the general offensive."
The central image shows Song Heping himself.
He waited until everyone had finished speaking before slowly saying, "Gentlemen, this is the last plenary meeting before the final offensive. I'll keep it brief."
The entire command center fell silent; even the sound of keyboards stopped.
"First rule: fire control." Song Heping's voice wasn't loud, but every word sounded like a chisel striking concrete. "In sensitive areas like residential areas, hospitals, schools, and mosques, no firing is allowed without double confirmation. What is double confirmation? It means the frontline observer sees the target with the naked eye, and at the same time, it's verified by drone or satellite imagery. If either is missing, the shells will have to remain in the barrel."
He paused for a second, then had the translator catch up.
"Secondly, the rules of engagement. Prisoners captured on the battlefield shall be dealt with in accordance with the Geneva Convention and sent to joint prisoner-of-war camps. Those executed by lynching shall be personally brought to a military court."
The four faces on the screen showed no change in expression.
These people are all seasoned veterans; they know that rules are rules.
"Thirdly, a humanitarian passage. Tomorrow morning at six o'clock, we will use every available means to tell the city's residents how to get out—drone broadcasts, leaflets, social media. There will be four safe routes, with clear fluorescent signs every 500 meters on each route, and the signs will be lit up at night. If a refugee wave breaks out and flees Titrick, each unit will send people to form escort teams to help the elderly, children, and pregnant women evacuate."
“Article Four,” Song Heping glanced at Jiang Feng, who nodded, “Battlefield supervision. The ‘Musician’ Company will send twelve disciplinary teams, three people per team, equipped with body cameras and satellite phones. They will follow each main attacking force. The disciplinary teams have the right to disarm those who violate discipline on the spot, and may open fire if necessary.”
After he finished speaking, he stood up and placed his hands on the edge of the control panel:
"Remember, there is only one mission in this operation: to liberate the city with minimal cost."
Samir was the first to respond: "The 10th Division is fine."
Abyu continued, "Kold's troops will be disciplined."
Nassin remained silent for a while.
In the background noise, you could hear someone rapidly reporting something in Persian.
"The Holy City Brigade will complete its blockade mission."
He finally spoke: "But the airdrop of night vision equipment must be on time. If the parachutes are not seen by 2 o'clock, my reconnaissance troops will have to stay put and wait for dawn."
“C-130 has already taken off,” Jiang Feng interjected. “It is expected to arrive at the drop zone at 1:50. You can turn on your radio and tune to the backup frequency; the pilot will contact you directly.”
Finally, Khalid, the government military representative from Bakta responsible for the evacuation and resettlement of refugees, made a statement:
"The government forces will strictly enforce international law and rules of engagement. Civilian resettlement centers are ready and can be put into use at any time."
"Very good." Song Heping glanced at his watch. "All units shall proceed according to the final schedule. Communication silence will begin six hours before H:00, with only the emergency channel remaining open. The final all-hands communication will take place fifteen minutes before H:00."
He scanned the four screens: "May your God bless you all. However, as an atheist, I believe that on the battlefield, the only ones who can truly protect you are your brothers and the weapons in your hands."
"See you at H time, everyone."
The screen turns off simultaneously.
Inside the command center, the tense atmosphere seemed to loosen, only to be immediately tightened again.
The staff began working at a faster pace, and the radio crackled with confirmations from various units.
Song Heping turned to Jiang Feng and said, "You stay here and keep watch. I'm going out for some fresh air."
"roof?"
"Okay. Ten minutes."
Pushing open the fire door on the roof, the desert night wind felt like a bucket of cold water splashed on my face.
The temperature dropped to 12 degrees Celsius overnight, but the wind speed increased.
Song Heping walked to the edge of the roof. The surface of the cement railing was rough and cold, like the skeleton of some large animal.
He looked north, but the direction of Tikrit was pitch black, without a single light.
The 1515 armed forces were also clever; they implemented strict blackouts, making the entire city seem as if it had sunk to the bottom of the sea.
But he could imagine what it looked like there.
Sandbag fortifications were piled up in the narrow streets, and the windows of the buildings were sealed off, leaving only firing ports.
A sniper could be hiding in the shadow of any rooftop, or a dilapidated car parked on the roadside could be crammed with explosives.
Those century-old buildings may have had their walls hollowed out, turning them into layers of defensive fortifications.
There are also ordinary people.
More than 30,000 people, most of whom were elderly, women and children.
They hid in basements, air-raid shelters, or simply in rooms they thought were safe.
Some people may have been without food for days, and some may be holding a sick child and feeling helpless.
All of these will be swept up in a storm of steel and fire forty hours from now.
Other sounds came from the wind.
It wasn't the sound of wind, but a lower, more regular mechanical noise.
That was the distinctive roar of diesel engines from armored units moving at night in the distance.
The sound came from the east; it must be Samir's 10th Division making its final adjustments.
Occasionally, a crisp metallic clang might be heard, indicating that the tank is attaching additional armor.
"Old squad leader."
Jiang Feng also came up.
"It's all arranged."
He said, "The members of the discipline team have been selected; they are all veterans who know the proper boundaries of law enforcement on the battlefield. The U.S. military's JTAC team has already set off, taking helicopters to the front lines and then infiltrating on foot."
Song Heping didn't reply, and continued to gaze northward.
"Jiang Feng."
After a long silence, Song Heping suddenly spoke up: "Tell me, what do you think Tikrit will become after this war is over?"
Jiang Feng took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
“I don’t know, Sergeant.” His voice was calm and sincere: “I’m not a politician, nor a prophet. I just know that war brings nothing to be happy about.”
"What we can do is very simple."
He paused, then continued, "Let your troops pull the trigger, advance, and capture. As for what happens after the battle..."
At this point, he shrugged helplessly and said, "That's something for the living to worry about."
Song Heping remained silent for a long time.
The wind blew from the depths of the desert, carrying sand and a rusty smell.
Perhaps it's the bloodstains left to be cleaned up on a distant battlefield, perhaps it's the wreckage of abandoned armored vehicles, or perhaps it's simply the memory of this land itself.
This land remembers too many wars.
Assyrians, Persians, Arabs, Mongols, Ottomans, British, Americans...
Now it's our turn to experience it.
“You’re right,” he finally said. “I’ve been overthinking it. A soldier’s job isn’t to solve all problems, but to do his job well in his own little corner of the world.”
He turned around and patted Jiang Feng on the shoulder heavily.
They are old comrades-in-arms who have fought side by side for more than ten years, so there is no need to say many things.
Back in the command center, the staff were still working, the radios were still running, and the situation map on the screen was still being updated in real time.
The most eye-catching thing is the huge red countdown clock on the wall.
The numbers just jumped:
40:47:19
Forty hours, forty-seven minutes, and nineteen seconds later, this ancient city with a history of two thousand years will be subjected to another baptism of blood and fire.
Twenty-two thousand men will attack simultaneously from four directions; tank tracks will crush the streets; artillery shells will tear the sky apart; and snipers' crosshairs will lock onto every breathing target.
This is the final silence.
Asking for a monthly ticket!
(End of this chapter)