Chapter 1078 - 979: Operation "Throatcut" (Part 2)

On the massive curved screen, real-time intelligence from multiple sources was being displayed in split-screen:

The main screen on the left showed high-resolution satellite overhead images, focusing on the Desert City area in eastern Libya.

In thermal imaging mode, the entire city seemed like a boiling, giant wound full of red and yellow spots.

Red points representing fierce crossfire were mainly concentrated around the former LNA command zone and several key intersections to the west and north.

In the upper right corner, encrypted text intelligence streams were continuously refreshing, sourced and tagged as "Mole-Deep".

The large screen in the lower right corner had been processed into a split image, featuring blurry but intense night vision combat footage returned by reconnaissance drones.

One segment clearly captured—under the glow of firelight, Haftar following behind Song Heping, with dozens of mercenaries tasked with "Musician" defense spreading out in groups of three forming a defensive formation, continuously moving southward within the city.

The center small screen displayed a high-definition close-up of Song Heping, eyes sharp and expression cold.

Beside it were the core team files—

Hunter, sniper…

Disaster Star, machine gunner…

...

Ms. M sat in the central command seat, dressed in a meticulously tailored dark blue suit, her short silver-grey hair styled without a strand out of place.

Every wrinkle on her face seemed carved with a chisel, documenting half a century of intelligence storms.

At this moment, those ice-blue eyes were calmly and sharply inspecting everything on the screen, like surgical lamps in an operating room.

On her sleek black console in front, an open file lay, the cover marked with scarlet "Top Secret/Ultra Secret: Nightingale Operation - Cutthroat Real-time Update".

"Madam."

A young but solemn intelligence analyst stood at the main console, his speech clear and fast, "Latest confirmation from 'Mole-Deep': The bait has taken effect, Colonel Jafali and his controlled 3rd and 7th infantry battalions, along with part of the armored company, initiated operations at 21:47 local time as planned. Our 'Cobra' squad, commanded by Captain Coleman of SBS, has reinforced a platoon of GNA Special Forces and have successfully penetrated the northern and western gates of the city, joining forces with Jafali's division. Currently, they are besieging the original LNA core command zone…"

He pointed to several fiercely flickering red dots on the main screen satellite image: "Thermal and signal analysis indicate, the target Song Heping and his core protection along with the high-value target Haftar have been successfully forced out of the command building, currently located in the northwest ruin area attempting to break through. 'Mole-Deep' reports that Haftar's mental state is severely impacted, nearing collapse, after confirming Jafali's betrayal."

The analyst pointed to the drone footage in the bottom right corner, "The real-time images we intercepted also corroborate this."

On the screen, the moment Song Heping grabbed Haftar's collar was frozen and enlarged.

"'Mole' captured a critical moment: Song Heping seems to be 'awakening' Haftar in an extreme way."

The analyst added, with a hint of unnoticeable surprise in his tone.

"Extreme way?"

The operations director sitting to Ms. M's right raised an eyebrow, this veteran agent had his hair styled as meticulously as a banker, his mouth curved into a wry smile, "It seems our eastern friend's methods are even more…direct than their file description."

"Direct? Mr. Ames, that's called efficiency."

Ms. M finally spoke, her voice low, yet carrying a command over the entire situation, an absolute authority beneath the ice.

Her long fingers gently tapped the smooth table surface, her gaze fell as if solid upon the screen at Song Heping's angular face.

Ames obviously viewed Song Heping with disdain, he sneered: "A pawn who survived off Illiguo after retiring from PLA Special Forces, within a few short years, extended his tendrils to North Africa, to the valves of the British Empire's oil pipelines. Who does he think he is? A mercenary leader driven by profit, daring to play on the Queen's board?"

"But he eliminated everyone pursuing him."

Ms. M glanced at Ames, her tone calm, yet the contempt and killing intent between words made the temperature in the command room seemingly drop a few more degrees.

"Madam."

A section chief sitting opposite Ames said: "The 'Cobra' squad and Jafali's operation were very successful. Haftar's forces have plunged into paralyzing chaos. Although Song Heping and his guardians are formidable, they're trapped between the rebels and GNA main forces, akin to beasts caught in a trap. I suggest ordering the 'Cobra' squad to abandon the capture plan, authorize the use of all necessary means, including calling GNA artillery for area coverage, ensure they're completely eliminated before Song Heping can escape the Desert City! Meanwhile, order our contact in GNA high ranks to immediately coordinate the frontline forces, sparing no effort to lock on Song Heping and what's left of Haftar, they must not escape to the border!"

"Hm, a good suggestion." Ms. M nodded slightly.

Ames stared at the screen for a moment, his finger heavily tapping on Song Heping's portrait: "He must be erased! And it must happen tonight!"

Ms. M did not respond immediately.

She slowly stood up, walked to the massive curved screen, gazing at the red thermal area symbolizing chaos and slaughter.

Her figure, backlit by the screen's glow, appeared especially lean but brimmed with suffocating pressure.

"Erase? You're too merciful."

Ms. M's voice echoed like Arctic glaciers grinding against each other.

"This isn't a simple cleaning operation. This is war. A revenge war initiated first by him, Song Heping, against the British Empire."

She abruptly turned, her ice-blue gaze like two sharp swords, sweeping across all the senior intelligence officers and military liaisons in the command room.

"Look at his plan! The targets are Ras Lanuf, Brega, Sidra! These are our energy arteries, as well as the lifeline of the Financial City! He intends to use Haftar, this rusty blade, to cut off our throat."

Her fingers precisely pointed at the small LNA-controlled blue area on the satellite map in eastern Libya, her tone filled with cold sarcasm.

"Support Haftar? A washed-up warlord abandoned by Moscow, a thorough failure who couldn't even manage his most trusted chief of staff! He's become the pawn for challenging empire hegemony? Such a huge irony! This kid sure is out of his mind!"

She paused slightly, her gaze returned to the screen on the blurred photo of Song Heping grabbing Haftar's collar, her mouth curved into a cold, extreme arc: "However, his resolve trying to control the situation in an absolute crisis…did surprise me a bit. Sadly, before absolute power, personal bravery and cunning are nothing more than the most useless laments at a funeral."

Her voice suddenly rose, carrying a final judgment with indisputable force: "Order the 'Sahel Cobra' squad: authorized to use the highest level of force! Permission granted to call all available support firepower from GNA! Authorization to use 'Sapphire' (referring to a certain type of man-portable Cloud Burst Bomb or Thermo-baric Warhead)! I don't care what method you use! Before dawn, I want clear images confirming Song Heping and Haftar's death! Corpses, or heads!"

"Also, command GNA frontline highest commander General Faruk: deploy all reserves immediately! Block all passages south and east of Desert City! Especially all paths leading to the Northern Darfur border! Tell Faruk, letting any of the targets escape will turn every penny in his family's London bank account into history!"

"Order the tech division: activate all reconnaissance satellites in orbit, focusing on monitoring the Northern Darfur direction! Contact our 'Albatross' in Khartoum (Sudanese capital), closely follow the movement of the Sudanese Military! Cannot let Song Heping escape back to his 'Rock' shell!"

A series of commands were quickly and clearly spat from Ms. M's mouth like cold steel balls. The atmosphere in the entire command center instantly tightened to the extreme, only leaving the symphony of rapidly transmitted instructions, keyboard taps, and communication calls.

"The operation code name remains—" Ms. M took one last look at Song Heping's portrait on the screen, seemingly looking at a dead man.

"'Cutthroat'."

"I want their blood to dye the dawn of Libya red, to tell the world, the cost of challenging the British Empire is nothing short of annihilation."

"Yes, Madam!"

A uniform response echoed in the command room.