Chapter 1395
Who's afraid of who in this world!
Chapter 1395 Who's afraid of who in this world!
Kirkuk, Abuyu's command post.
The phone rang at three in the morning while the commander of the 9th Popular Mobilization Forces was looking at a map.
Upon hearing Samir's voice, he gestured for the others in the room to leave.
“The boss is still alive,” Samir said bluntly. “He’s with me now.”
Abuyu gripped the microphone tightly.
"The Americans are after him everywhere. There are a lot of rumors that the boss is dead."
“That’s what they want. Listen, I need you to come to Mosul, now, bring the person you trust most.”
"The Americans are monitoring all the roads."
"Take the old route, through the Hamlin Mountains. Have your deputy make a public appearance in Kirkuk, and you set off in secret."
Abuyu remained silent for a moment.
"What's the boss planning? Is there a big operation going on?"
“Change the rules of the game,” Samir said. “You’ll see when you get here. Oh, and bring Jiang Feng with you. Isn’t he in Erbil? Contact him and have him come here. The boss wants to see him.”
The phone hangs up.
Abuyu stared at the map for half a minute, then called his adjutant.
"Prepare two unmarked Land Cruisers, fill them with fuel, and add extra fuel tanks. Select six absolutely reliable men. Depart in one hour."
"Where to, sir?"
Mosul.
"Yes, sir!"
After the adjutant left, he immediately called Jiang Feng.
“The boss is still alive, I need to see him.” Abuyu went straight to the point: “He wants to see you.”
Jiang Feng's breathing became rapid: "Where is he?"
"He's in Mosul. We have to leave quietly; the Americans have many informants."
At four o'clock in the morning, two off-road vehicles drove out of Kirkuk without headlights and headed northwest along the ancient mountain road.
The road winds through desolate hills, with only a few scattered villages of the Kold shepherds along the way.
Abuyu chose this route because it avoided all checkpoints and the regular patrol routes of US military drones.
The journey takes six hours.
Throughout the journey, Jiang Feng kept checking his equipment.
Rifles, pistols, night vision goggles, explosives.
Although Jiang Feng didn't say anything, Abuyu knew that no matter what Song Heping wanted to do, Jiang Feng would stand up to support him without hesitation and follow him.
"How do you think the boss will handle this situation?" Abuyu suddenly asked.
Jiang Feng did not answer immediately.
He looked out the window at the rocks and withered grass flashing by, and finally said, "My old squad leader won't run away. That's not his style."
"Then he will..." Abuyu looked at Jiang Feng with a puzzled expression.
“A counterattack,” Jiang Feng said calmly, “and it will be deadly.”
6 p.m., 10th Division barracks, on the outskirts of Mosul.
When Abuyu and Jiang Feng arrived, Song Heping was standing at a table with Samir studying a map.
Upon seeing them enter, Song Heping went up and embraced them.
“How bad is it?”
As Abuyu asked the question, he took the water that Samir offered him.
Song Heping summarized the situation in ten minutes.
When Abuyu heard that the US military base was to be surrounded, he reacted just like Samir, almost dropping the cup in his hand in shock.
Shock.
Then came disbelief.
“You’re insane, boss. This will trigger the Third Gulf War!” His eyes widened.
“No.” Song Heping repeated his analysis to Samir: “Because they wouldn’t dare. Once a scandal like the ‘Sower’ program is exposed, it would be enough to send half of the high-ranking officials in the White House to jail. And Hillary Clinton, forget about her presidential dreams. As for those generals and intelligence officers who participated in that program? Military courts are waiting for them. These people only have one option: negotiate with me and then cover everything up.”
He pulled up satellite photos of the joint operations team's base.
"There are 120 U.S. Special Forces members at the base, about 30 Witness agents, and some civilian and logistical personnel. The walls are sturdy, but not fortress-level. They don't have tanks, only a few armored Humvees and two helicopters."
“We have them,” Samir interjected. “Two mechanized infantry battalions, one tank battalion, and artillery support. Abuyu, how many men can you send?”
Abuyu walked up to the map and pondered.
“I can deploy three mechanized infantry battalions, about 1,200 men. There are also anti-tank teams and snipers. But to surround the entire base, we need at least 3,000 men, and we also need to establish an outer defensive line to prevent the US from sending reinforcements from Buckingham.”
“It would take at least three hours for U.S. reaction forces to arrive in Bakdad.”
Jiang Feng suddenly spoke, pointing his finger at several key intersections on the map.
“If we set up roadblocks here, here and here, and equip them with anti-tank weapons, we can stop them. Besides, they don’t have many troops left in Iligo now, so they can only ask the government forces for help.”
As he spoke, his gaze fell upon Samir.
Samir laughed: "I am the government army, and the largest government army in the Northwest."
Song Heping nodded.
“What we need is a show of strength, not a real war. If the Americans see three thousand fully armed soldiers surrounding their base with tank guns pointed at the gates, they will understand that the game has changed. Only then will the door to negotiations truly open.”
“What about Milos and the others?” Abuyu asked.
“Once we control the base, rescue them immediately.” Song Heping’s eyes turned cold. “If the Americans are smart, they won’t resist. If they resist…”
He didn't finish speaking, only letting out a cold snort, but the meaning was clear.
For the next three hours, the four of them worked out a detailed plan in Samir's office.
The map marked the troop assembly points, marching routes, and blockade points.
Communication solutions, signal identification, and emergency response plans.
Every detail was meticulously examined.
"When will the operation take place?" Samir finally asked.
Song Heping glanced at his watch.
"It's 9 p.m. now. The troops need time to assemble and maneuver. They must be in position by 8 p.m. tomorrow night and complete the encirclement before midnight. The final ultimatum will be issued at dawn."
“What if they find out before we complete the encirclement?” Abyu raised the most dangerous possibility.
“That will be a tough battle,” Song Heping readily admitted. “But even so, we still have a numerical advantage. The key is speed; we must control the situation before they call for help.”
After finalizing the plan, Abuyu and Jiang Feng went to rest, as they needed to conserve their energy for tomorrow's operation.
Samir began to secretly mobilize his troops, using the pretext of "night exercises" to order each battalion to move to the designated assembly point east of Mosul.
Song Heping remained alone in the office, standing by the window watching the lights of the military camp.
More than a decade ago, when he came to Iligo, he was just a grocer who only wanted to make money.
Now, he is to command an army against the most powerful nation in the world.
Fate is truly an ironic scriptwriter.
Since the Americans want to make things difficult for me, I'll make things difficult for them first.
The drums of war beat at Dongfeng Lake!
This world is afraid of whoever!
Time flew by and it was 5 p.m. the next day.
During the past day, troop movements in eastern Mosul were conducted in an orderly manner under the guise of "anti-terrorism exercises."
Samir's 10th Division deployed three mechanized infantry battalions, one tank battalion, and one artillery battalion, totaling approximately 2,800 men.
Abuyu's troops also secretly arrived from Kirkuk, with two infantry battalions of about 1,200 men hiding in the abandoned factory area east of the city.
The total strength reached 4,000 men, which is 30 times the number of the US military base garrison.
Song Heping was at the forward command post of the 10th Division. It was a modified armored command vehicle parked in a warehouse three kilometers away from the US military base.
The vehicle-mounted communication system connects commanders of various units, and the large screen displays real-time footage transmitted by drones.
"Team A, take your positions."
"Team B, take your positions."
"The tank unit has reached its designated position."
Reports from various units came through the communication channel.
Song Heping looked at the screen; the 4,000-strong army was like a large net, silently tightening its grip.
The main road to the east has been blocked by roadblocks, anti-tank missiles have been deployed on the bridge to the west, and the high points on both the north and south sides are controlled by snipers.
US military bases are like isolated pieces on a chessboard, completely surrounded.
"They haven't noticed yet?" Samir asked, somewhat incredulous.
“The outer patrol team just returned to base for a shift change, increasing both their size and density,” Jiang Feng said. “But it’s still a routine rotation, nothing unusual. I guess they never expected us to surround them.”
Song Heping glanced at his watch; it was 6:20 PM.
The setting sun dyed the sky over Mosul blood red, and the shadows of the buildings stretched long.
The Islamic twilight prayer had just ended, and the call to prayer echoed from various mosques throughout the city, long and mournful.
"Let's begin the second phase," he ordered.
The order was relayed.
Four columns of armored vehicles and tanks drove toward the US military base from different directions, moving slowly but resolutely and unstoppably.
Each column has a specific mission.
Block off one direction, establish a defensive line, and prepare for a possible breakout.
Meanwhile, Iligor government officials in Mosul received a phone call from Samir:
"The 10th Division is conducting an emergency security operation. Citizens are advised to stay indoors and not go out."
The notice did not provide details, but in this war-torn city, people have learned not to ask too many questions.
Joint Operations Group Base, Briefing Room.
Lemont paced around the room, his leather shoes making a rhythmic sound on the concrete floor.
Three days have passed, a full seventy-two hours, and Song Heping seems to have vanished into thin air. All surveillance footage, all informant reports, and all technical investigative methods have failed to uncover any trace of him.
This isn't right.
Something is very wrong.
How could a mercenary leader in a place like Mosul completely avoid the US intelligence network?
unless
“There must be someone helping.” Lamont suddenly stopped in his tracks. “And it’s not just ordinary people helping. It’s organized help with resources.”
Ryan looked up from his laptop: "Samir?"
“Either Abuyu, or both.” Lemont walked to the map and pointed to the location of the 10th Division’s camp. “If Song Heping is really here, we’re in trouble. We can’t just storm an Iligo regular army camp.”
“But we can put pressure on them,” Ryan said. “I looked into Samir’s finances. The 10th Division has three sources of funding: regular appropriations from the Iligo Ministry of Defense, subsidies from the Mosul local government, and some external sources.”
He pulled up a document: “These external channels are very covert, probably related to oil, with transfers through banks in the UAE and Lebanon. But I contacted the Ministry of Finance, and they can temporarily freeze these accounts. Without money, Samir's forces won't last a month.” Lamont nodded: “Do it. Do it now. Also, contact Bakda and have the embassy pressure the Ilham Ministry of Defense, saying that Samir may be harboring terrorists and demanding a suspension of funding to him.”
“This will take time, and it’s not guaranteed to succeed,” Ryan said.
"It's okay, as long as we create pressure."
Lamont glanced at his watch; it was 11 p.m.
“Samir isn’t stupid; he knows the cost of confronting the Americans. When the pressure is high enough, he will make the ‘right’ choice.”
Ryan began drafting encrypted telegrams.
Lamont walked to the window and watched the searchlights outside the base pierce the night sky.
The lights formed cones of light in the darkness, illuminating the open area outside the wall.
It's too quiet, he thought again.
Even in the dead of night, there should be some sounds in the city of Mosul.
such as……
The barking of wild dogs, the distant sound of gunfire, the roar of generators.
But tonight, it's unusually quiet.
"Increase vigilance," he said over the radio. "All sentries double post, snipers in position. Tell the pilots to keep the helicopters ready for takeoff at any time."
The order was relayed.
The base echoed with the footsteps of soldiers running, the roar of armored vehicle engines starting, and the metallic clanging of weapons during inspections.
Remont returned to his room, but couldn't fall asleep.
He opened the encrypted laptop and retrieved Song Heping's file.
This 274-page file documents the activities of this East Asian man around the world over the years.
From grocer to mercenary, and then to owner of a private military company.
Every step has been taken steadily, and every transformation has been timed perfectly.
This man is no ordinary person; he's not just a mercenary leader, but more like a strategist.
Remont recalled what Director Simon had told him before he took up his post: "Don't mess with that guy! He's one of the smartest people I've ever met in this land. If he were an American, he'd be at least a lieutenant general by now."
At the time, Lamont thought it was an exaggeration.
Now he's not so sure.
At one o'clock in the morning, Ryan knocked on the door and came in: "The Treasury Department has approved the freeze application. Samir's three overseas accounts, totaling $18.7 million, have all been frozen. In addition, the embassy has sent a formal note to the Ilgo Ministry of Defense."
"How was the reaction?"
“Iligo’s defense minister expressed anger at our actions but promised an ‘investigation,’” Ryan said. “Given the efficiency of Iligo’s bureaucracy, the investigation will take at least a week. But the key is the signal; at least we have made our stance clear.”
Lemont nodded: "Okay. Now we need to wait for Samir's reaction. If he's smart, he'll contact us tomorrow morning and offer 'cooperation'."
He paused, then asked, "Is there anything unusual about the surveillance footage around the base?"
“The drone patrol is normal, the ground sensors have not been triggered, and the outer reconnaissance team reports that everything is calm.” Ryan hesitated for a moment: “But there is one thing: the 10th Division’s troop movements are more frequent than usual. They have amassed about a battalion in the east of the city, saying they are conducting nighttime exercises.”
"Nighttime exercises." Lymont frowned. "When did they begin?"
"Around 8 p.m. It's still going on now."
Lamont walked up to the monitor screen.
Infrared images show that there are indeed a large number of heat signatures in the abandoned industrial area in the east of the city.
Vehicles, personnel, and equipment. The size is roughly equivalent to a mechanized infantry battalion.
"What were the contents of the exercise?"
“It’s supposedly an urban assault drill targeting ISIS remnants,” Ryan said. “But something’s odd: they’ve deployed tanks. Counterterrorism drills don’t usually require tanks.”
Lemont's heart sank.
He pulled up the records of the 10th Division's nighttime exercises over the past three months.
A comparison revealed that tonight's exercise was larger in scale, involved heavier equipment, and the assembly area was only five kilometers away from the US military base.
too close.
"Notify all units to enter Level 3 alert," Lamont ordered. "Also, send out a small team to observe their exercise at close range. Do not expose yourselves; just observe."
"If they ask."
“Just say we’re concerned about our allies’ training and want to learn from their experience,” Lemont said casually, but his eyes were serious. “I need to know exactly what Samir is doing.”
The team departed at 1:20 a.m., consisting of two armored Humvees and eight Delta Force members.
They turned off their headlights and used night vision goggles to drive in the dark.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at an observation point 800 meters from the exercise area.
The captain reported via encrypted radio: "At least twelve armored vehicles, four tanks, and a large number of infantry are visible. They are establishing defensive positions, not an offensive formation. Also, they have deployed anti-tank missiles, facing west."
"West?" Remont exclaimed in surprise. "Which direction is our base in?"
“Due west,” Ryan said, his face beginning to turn pale.
Lamont was silent for five seconds.
Then he said, "Have the squad withdraw. Withdraw immediately."
But they haven't yet.
"Immediately!" Lymont practically roared. "That's an order!"
The order was relayed, but it was too late.
Just as the observation team was preparing to withdraw, four Iligo BMP-2 infantry fighting vehicles flanked them from the side, blocking their retreat.
Immediately afterwards, a group of Iligo soldiers emerged from the shadows, guns pointed at the Humvee.
"Put down your weapons and get out of the vehicle!" the command in Arabic blared over the loudspeaker. "You have illegally entered the Iligang army's exercise area!"
The squad leader tried to explain, but the other party wouldn't listen.
More Iligo soldiers surrounded them, outnumbering them at least tenfold.
The turrets of several tanks slowly rotated, and the muzzles of their 125mm smoothbore guns were aimed at the Humvees.
The stalemate lasted for about three minutes.
Finally, the Delta Force captain made the only reasonable choice: to surrender.
When the news reached the base, Lamont slammed his fist on the table: "They did it on purpose! This was intentional!"
“What do we do now?” Ryan asked. “They’ve detained eight of us.”
Lamont forced himself to calm down.
He walked to the map and began to reassess the situation: the 10th Division's exercises, the tank deployment directions, the orientation of the anti-tank missiles, and the American soldiers currently being held.
These fragments, pieced together, formed a horrifying image.
“Notify Bakda,” Lemont said in a low voice. “Tell him we may be surrounded, and the 10th Division is likely planning a coup.”
"But evidence"
“There’s no time to wait for evidence,” Lamont interrupted him. “If we wait until the evidence is conclusive, it might be too late. Notify headquarters immediately and request emergency support. Simultaneously, activate all defense systems and prepare.”
He didn't finish his sentence.
Just then, the base's alarm system suddenly went off.
The alarm was not triggered by a human, but by an automatic sensor.
The vibration sensors, infrared sensors, and acoustic sensors outside the wall all issued alarm signals almost simultaneously.
Lamont rushed to the monitor screen.
Infrared images show a large amount of heat signature in the open area surrounding the base.
Not just one direction, but all directions.
From the east, west, south, and north, countless hotspots representing vehicles and personnel are moving toward the base.
The sheer number of them exceeded the screen's display area.
"Damn it," Ryan muttered, "They actually dared to do it!"
Remont grabbed the radio and yelled into all channels, "All hands on deck! Repeat, all hands on deck! We're surrounded!"
The base erupted into chaos instantly.
The soldiers rushed out of the barracks and headed towards the defensive positions.
The armored vehicle drove to the designated position, and the heavy machine gunner climbed onto the firing platform.
The sniper entered the watchtower and used a thermal imager to observe the situation outside.
Lemont ran up to the control tower and raised his binoculars.
He can see it even without night vision equipment.
On the plains surrounding the base, countless car lights are on.
Not dozens, but hundreds, densely packed, forming a sea of light.
The headlights were moving, approaching the base from all directions.
Even more frightening, he could see the outline of tank turrets next to some large vehicles.
It wasn't a light tank, but a main battle tank, with the low and deadly silhouette of the T-72.
“They’ve deployed tanks,” Lemont put down his binoculars and swallowed hard. “Samir has really gone mad.”
Ryan came up too, holding an encrypted satellite phone: "Headquarters responded. They're verifying the situation, but reminded us: don't fire unless attacked. This is a political issue, not a military one."
“A political issue?” Lemont almost laughed. “We have thousands of soldiers and dozens of tanks surrounding us, and you’re telling me this is a political issue?”
But reason told him that Ryan was right.
Once the fire starts, there's no turning back.
That would not be a small-scale conflict, but a direct confrontation between the US military and the Iligo government forces.
That would mean a full-scale escalation of the war, and the destruction of seventeen years of American efforts in Iligo.
The car headlights were getting closer.
Now, it can be seen clearly even with the naked eye.
Leading the way is the BMP infantry fighting vehicle, followed by armored personnel carriers, and then main battle tanks.
They didn't charge at full speed, but advanced steadily, like a large net slowly tightening.
They stopped 500 meters outside the base's perimeter wall.
Then, all the car lights went out at the same time.
Darkness returned, but it was more terrifying than before.
Because now, Lamont knows that in that darkness, four thousand soldiers, dozens of armored vehicles and tanks, and countless gun barrels and cannon barrels are aimed at his base.
The silence lasted for about two minutes.
Then, a voice came through the loudspeaker, speaking in English:
"US Joint Operations Group Base, this is the 10th Infantry Division in Iligo. You are surrounded. Commander Lamont, please come out and speak. Repeat, Commander Lamont, please come out and speak."
The sound echoed in the night sky, clear and cold.
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(End of this chapter)