Chapter 1375
Hell on the Screen
Chapter 1375 Hell on the Screen
The joint command center is located 15 kilometers away from Titrick.
Song Heping stood in front of the command platform, his hands resting on the edge of the table, his knuckles white from excessive force.
On the huge screen in front of him, live feeds from twelve drones were displayed in a split format.
Most of the images were obscured by yellow smog, like a dirty filter covering the city.
However, the images from two high-angle cameras are still relatively clear.
They recorded the scene during the first few minutes of the gas release.
"Replay footage from point three." Song Heping pointed to the screen, his expression stern. "Slow down."
Technical officer operates the control console.
In the center of the screen, a shot taken from above begins to slowly replay.
The simultaneous collapse of the three buildings from the inside was not an explosive destruction, but a precise, directional blast aimed at releasing rather than destroying them.
Then, yellow smoke billowed out.
"Pause," said Song Heping, who had noticed something amiss. "Zoom in on that tank."
The picture freezes.
The technical officer zoomed in on the ruins of one of the buildings and could see a twisted metal tank protruding from the broken concrete blocks.
The surface of the tank has rough welding marks and handwritten Arabic script.
He understands Arabic.
Those are danger signs and warnings.
"These are not standard military chemical weapons storage containers."
Standing next to Song Heping, Jiang Feng said in a low voice, "Look at this welding process and the thickness of the tank... This is homemade. Or rather, it's a modified industrial storage tank."
Song Heping remained silent.
He stared at the screen, watching how the smoke seeped out of the ruins, how it flowed along the ground, and how it seemed to find gaps and passages as if it were alive.
"The diffusion pattern analysis is complete," another technical officer reported. "Based on reconstructions from multiple perspectives, there are seventeen gas release points, distributed throughout the city. But the key is their distribution pattern—"
He pulled up a city map, which marked all the areas where high concentrations of toxic gas had been detected with red dots.
“These points form an irregular grid, covering all major streets and strategic locations. And,”
He switched layers to display wind direction data.
"The release times were subtly sequential, perfectly timed to match the direction of the morning breeze. It was calculated, sir. This was not a random terrorist attack, but a military operation."
The command center was deathly silent.
Everyone stared at the map, at the precisely distributed red dots.
"Casualty report," Song Heping finally spoke.
The communications soldier's voice was hoarse: "Commander Samir has retreated to a safe zone, but he confirmed at least 480 casualties, and more than 750 are showing symptoms of poisoning. As for Commander Abuyu... we've lost all contact. The last signal we received came from the Central Avenue area, which is now one of the places with the highest concentration of poison gas."
Song Heping closed his eyes.
Abuyu's face appeared before his eyes.
Three days ago, he pointed to the map here and promised himself: "Boss, give me forty-eight hours. Forty-eight hours, I will bring Zarqawi's body back."
"Keep trying to contact them."
Song Heping suppressed his turbulent emotions: "Deploy all drones to search for any signs of life, especially in the area where Abuyu was last seen."
"Sir, the gas concentration in those areas is still deadly—"
"Then let the drones fly at low altitudes! Use thermal imaging! Use life detectors! If all else fails, we can disinfect them after they come back!"
Song Heping whirled around, the calm in his eyes finally shattering, revealing a raging fury beneath: "I need to know if anyone is still alive! Understand?"
"Understood, sir!"
Just then, the door to the command center was suddenly pushed open.
A staff officer rushed in, panting: "Sir, emergency! U.S. military... U.S. special forces suddenly appeared at the civilian evacuation point and forcibly took over! Colonel Khalid, who was in charge of the evacuation point, clashed with them and was then arrested by the Americans!"
Song Heping was stunned. For a few seconds, he thought he had misheard.
"What did you say?"
"It's Major General Duke! He led about thirty Delta Force soldiers, fully armed, and stormed into the evacuation point!"
The staff officer's face was still showing shock: "They said the evacuation point was now under U.S. military control, and all civilians would be detained and screened. Colonel Khalid protested, but their men pointed guns at him—"
Song Heping felt a surge of anger rising from the depths of his chest.
His troops were attacked with chemical weapons in Titrick, and soldiers were dying in the poison gas, and the Americans chose to add fuel to the fire at this time?
He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.
Turning to Jiang Feng beside him, he said, "You take command. The attack is temporarily halted. First, gather and reorganize the troops, establish a defensive line, then continue searching for survivors, organize medical evacuations, and establish a disinfection and isolation zone. I will personally go to the evacuation point to see what happened."
"Old squad leader, if you go now, it might be possible—"
“Duke wouldn’t show up here for no reason.” Song Heping had already started walking out. “Even less at a time like this. Something must have happened.”
The civilian evacuation point is located in an open valley northeast of Titrick.
Three days ago, this was just a pasture for grazing sheep; now, it is crowded with more than 8,000 civilians who have fled the city.
When Song Heping's convoy arrived, it was a sight that raised blood pressure.
U.S. military Humvees were parked across the entrance, with M2 heavy machine guns mounted on them.
The Delta Force soldiers wore all-terrain camouflage and had camouflage paint on their faces. Although their guns were not pointed directly at people, their fingers were on the trigger guards, ready to fire at any time.
What's even more infuriating is that hundreds of Iligor government soldiers were disarmed and sat by the roadside, their faces a mixture of humiliation and anger.
Their weapons were piled up to one side and guarded by two Delta Force members.
Colonel Khalid saw Song Heping and immediately rushed over, his face flushed red: "They just barged in! They said this place is now under US military control! I protested, and that major general had his soldiers point guns at me!"
Song Heping patted him on the shoulder, signaling him to calm down.
Then head towards the entrance.
A Delta Force sergeant stopped him: "Excuse me, sir, this area is now a military control zone."
"Go away!"
Song Heping didn't even glance at him, and walked straight inside: "Duke! Come out and let's talk!"
A few seconds later, the curtain of the largest tent in the center of the tent area was lifted.
Major General Duke came out.
He's still the same.
His short hair was neatly trimmed, his combat uniform was pressed to a crisp, and the stars on his shoulders were polished to a gleaming shine.
He was accompanied by a tall, thin man in casual clothes, wearing glasses.
Song Heping immediately recognized him as the newly appointed CIA station chief in Iligor, who had been in office for less than a week. They had crossed paths before in Bakta, but he had never met this guy before.
"Song".
Duke greeted him like an old friend.
"You came quite quickly."
"If I hadn't come, things would have gotten out of hand here."
Song Heping's voice was as cold as ice water.
"Explain yourself! Why are my men risking their lives in front of us, while you're causing trouble here? Do you want to learn some special skills too?"
Duke made a gesture, and the Delta Force members who were holding their guns down lowered their weapons, but their posture remained tense.
“Necessary measures. The people here are not very cooperative, and I am very pressed for time, so I don’t have time to explain to them. I can only take over by force first.”
“Duke. This is my operational area.” Song Heping said coldly, “What do you mean by confiscating their weapons? These are Iligo government troops. Did you get permission from the Ministry of Defense to interfere in the management of someone else’s army?”
"Actually, I do."
Duke took a folded document out of his breast pocket and unfolded it in front of Song Heping.
"Article 7 of the joint counterterrorism agreement between the Iligo government and the U.S. military: When high-value terrorist targets are involved, the U.S. military has the right to take temporary control measures as necessary. This was notified through diplomatic channels at 3:00 a.m. today."
Song Heping took the document and quickly glanced at it.
The document was formatted correctly, all the seals were present, and it even bore the signature of Iligo's Deputy Minister of Defense. He handed the document back: "So you're here to arrest people. Out of eight thousand civilians, right after the chemical weapons attack, when my troops have suffered heavy losses, you're here to cause trouble?"
Duke's expression remained unchanged: "The timing is indeed not ideal, I admit. But the situation is urgent and waits for no one."
"What situation is worth you causing trouble at a time like this?"
Song Heping's patience ran out, and he said impatiently, "My soldiers were killed by poison gas in Titrick, Duke and Abuyu are missing, and Samir's vanguard lost a third of its men. And you're causing trouble here just to catch terrorists?"
"Not your average 'terrorist'."
The tall, thin man standing next to Duke spoke up.
"Mr. Song, I've heard so much about you. Let me introduce myself. I'm Remont, the CIA's Iligo station chief. The person we're looking for is Masour, Bakdadi's personal courier. He's probably the only person in Iligo who knows Bakdadi's exact location. He's here in Iligo to deliver a personal letter from Bakdadi to Zarqawi, instructing them to launch this gas suicide operation."
Song Heping stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly turned to Duke: "So you all knew Zarqawi had chemical weapons. You knew what was going to happen today."
“We know he might have one, but we’re not sure,” Duke corrected. “The communications intercepted three weeks ago mentioned a ‘special gift.’ But we don’t know what it is or where it’s being deployed.”
“And you did not share this intelligence.”
“We issued a warning,” Lemont interjected. “Through diplomatic channels, to all relevant parties.”
“A vague warning.” Song Heping sneered, “‘There may be a chemical weapons threat’! We receive more than a dozen of these warnings every month. On the battlefield, we need specific information! What kind of weapons are they, where might they be deployed, and how to identify them. Not a diplomatic excuse to shirk responsibility.”
The atmosphere outside the tent was as tense as a fully drawn bowstring.
The Delta Force member's finger moved back to the trigger guard, and the guards brought by Song Heping also instinctively tightened their grip on their weapons.
Duke raised his hand towards the Delta players and made a downward gesture.
“Arguing about this is pointless, Song. The fact is, Masour is likely among these civilians. He used to be a chemistry professor, and if Titrick's chemical weapons were homemade, he was probably involved. If we catch him now, we might be able to find Bakdadi. And if we catch Bakdadi—”
"It can end this war and save more lives. I know that rhetoric."
Song Heping interrupted him: "For the greater good, some small sacrifices can be made. But those 'small sacrifices' are my soldiers. They have names, they have families, and they died in that city today."
He turned around, ready to leave.
“We can help,” Duke said from behind him. “Medical support, chemical protective equipment, air transport. Whatever you need, we can provide.”
Song Heping stopped, but did not turn around: "The condition is that I will help you find Maisuer."
“We need your cooperation. The civilians trust you and the Iligo army more, and if we forcibly search them, it could incite riots.”
Song Heping turned around, looking at Duke, at Lamont, at the fully armed Delta Force members around him, and at the terrified civilians in the distance surrounded by barbed wire.
"listen."
His voice was calm, but every word struck Duke like a bullet: “I will not stop you from searching. But I have three conditions: First, all searches must be supervised by Iligo officials; second, no force can be used, and civilians, especially women and children, cannot be intimidated; third, the results of the search must be shared with me.”
“What if I say no?” Duke asked.
Song Heping smiled, but it was a smile devoid of any warmth:
“Then I’ll send over a battalion, or two or three battalions, and ‘invite’ you out in the name of ‘protecting Ilig’s sovereignty and the safety of its citizens.’ You can try and see if your thirty Delta forces are more powerful, or my soldiers who just came back from Titrick, full of anger. Then I’ll tell them that the CIA and the US military knew long ago that there was poison gas in Titrick, but they didn’t share the specific intelligence.”
The two looked at each other.
Outside the tent, the wind whistled through the valley.
"make a deal."
After a full ten seconds, Duke finally said, "But we need to get started as soon as possible. If Maisour is really here, he'll definitely find a way to sneak out."
Song Heping did not answer.
He walked towards his car, saying to his adjutant as he went, "Contact Jiang Feng and tell him about the situation here. Then pick up Samir for me; I need to know the true situation in Titrick."
As he got into the car, he took one last look at the evacuation point.
Eight thousand civilians huddled together, like a flock of frightened sheep.
The children were crying, the adults were staring blankly at the sky, and the elderly were sitting numbly on the ground, waiting for an unknown fate.
And among them, there may be someone who knows the whereabouts of the terrorist organization's top leader.
Song Heping leaned back in the back seat and closed his eyes.
Exhaustion washed over me like a tide, but what weighed even heavier was the anger and sense of powerlessness.
Abuyu's fate is unknown, Samir's vanguard has been decimated, and Titrick is now a dead city shrouded in poisonous fog.
The Americans chose to appear here at this time not to help, but for their intelligence operations.
These bastards!
FUCK!
The car started and quickly drove away from the evacuation point.
Twenty minutes later.
Joint command center.
On the giant screen, drone footage from seven different angles simultaneously showed Titrick's horrific state.
Song Heping stood in front of the screen, his hands resting on the control panel, his face ashen.
The image in the upper left corner is from a high-altitude reconnaissance drone, which captured a panoramic view of the chemical weapon release.
Yellow clouds of smoke, like living monsters, surged out simultaneously from three different areas of the city, then slowly spread under the influence of the ground wind, gradually connecting to form a curtain of death.
The edges of the smoke and clouds were irregularly wispy, gleaming eerily oily in the morning light, like the rotting entrails of some giant beast spread out over the city.
The top right corner shows a close-up of the street taken by a mid-altitude drone.
In the footage, a dozen government soldiers are trying to help their fallen comrade retreat. One soldier is dragging another comrade who is barely able to walk. Both are wearing gas masks, but the soldier being dragged is clearly unconscious, his limbs swaying limply.
Suddenly, a plume of yellow smoke billowed from the side alley, instantly engulfing the two figures. When the smoke dissipated slightly, only two figures lying on the ground remained in the scene.
Even more chillingly, the body continued to twitch afterward.
It wasn't a complete convulsion, but rather a spasm of localized muscles. The left leg kicked rhythmically, as if the body was still being controlled by residual nerve signals after death.
"Zoom in on that image," Song Heping said hoarsely.
The technician operates the control panel to zoom in on the screen.
Now it is clear that the fallen soldiers' bodies are convulsing, and even through their gas masks, one can imagine the pain on their faces.
One of them was scratching his throat with his hand, and even through the protective suit, the action was still frantic and desperate.
His five fingers were bent into a claw shape, and his fingernails had already torn through the outer layer of the protective suit.
"It is a combination of nerve agents and vesicants."
The technical officer's voice was low: "It's probably sarin and mustard gas or something like that. Sarin causes muscle spasms and respiratory failure, while mustard gas causes chemical burns to the skin and mucous membranes. Judging from the layered colors of the smoke, they may have also mixed in chlorine... This combination prolongs the death process and is extremely cruel."
"Have you found Commander Abuyu's convoy?" Song Heping asked.
The technical officer didn't dare answer, he just shook his head.
Song Heping turned his gaze to the screen in the center, which displayed footage of the search of the area where Abuyu's troops were last seen.
Four small drones equipped with thermal imaging and chemical sensors are hovering at low altitude, but the images they are transmitting are alarming.
Thermal imaging revealed large areas of cold blue.
Low-temperature regions are typical thermal characteristics after the release of chemical weapons.
But amidst the blue expanse, a few scattered red and yellow specks of light were moving.
"Wait, there are signs of life here!"
The operator suddenly shouted, his voice carrying a glimmer of hope.
"Coordinates N34-27, E43-18, three heat sources, moving northward!"
Song Heping immediately walked to the screen, pointed at the image, and asked loudly, "Can you identify what it is?"
The screen is zoomed in.
Beside a collapsed building ruin, three armored vehicles are struggling to navigate a narrow passage.
The vehicle's engine area appears bright red in thermal imaging, while several blurry human-shaped heat sources are visible in the passenger compartment.
"It's the mark of the Abuyu Brigade!"
Another operator compared the vehicle identification numbers and exclaimed, "That's his command convoy! They're still alive!"
"Immediately, send chemical defense personnel to meet them." Song Heping's tense muscles relaxed. "We must bring him back alive!"
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(End of this chapter)