Chapter 1322 - 1125: Live or Die Together_3

Song Heping no longer hesitated, his voice decisive, "We must not give them any time to react, we cannot let them send out any information of this engagement!"

"Understood completely, Hive."

Arseny's voice carried a trace of excitement, "I'll launch a direct artillery strike to ensure they report to their Allah before they even know what's happening! Over!"

The communication abruptly ended. Song Heping slowly put down the receiver, feeling some sweat seeping into his palms.

His gaze returned to the sand table of Halaib, as if he could see through the scale model to the brutal scenes unfolding in the real world outside.

The explosions outside seemed to draw closer, becoming more deafening, while the ceiling overhead shook even more violently, with more dust and small stones raining down incessantly, like a downpour that would never cease.

The Chef silently handed over a Military Water Bottle, with faint steam still rising from the spout.

"Take a sip to perk up, it's 'horse urine' from back home, strong stuff."

Inside the bottle was a thick coffee brewed through some unknown method by him, pitch-black in color and bitter to an astonishing degree, as if it contained all the hardships of this moment.

Song Heping took it, tilted his head back and drank a large gulp, the extreme bitterness immediately engulfing his taste buds, stimulating his nearly numb nerves, bringing a slight clarity to his fatigued mind.

"The east line is smooth, the west line is obstructed. Arseny has decided to assault a temporary checkpoint directly, opting for artillery to annihilate them instantly, avoiding detours to save time."

He concisely reported the situation.

"Don't worry, that guy used to be artillery; his aim is always spot on."

The Chef grinned, revealing a mouthful of teeth yellowed by smoke, seemingly familiar with Arseny's style, even with a hint of admiration.

But his smile quickly faded, and he sighed, lowering his voice.

"In the city... on our side, we're reaching our limits. Five minutes ago, I received a rough estimate, casualty rates reported by various units... might have exceeded forty-five percent. In terms of heavy weaponry, besides a few old guys hidden for the last fight, almost all have been lost. The anti-tank missiles are nearly out, even the RPG ammunition is almost gone."

Song Heping silently nodded, his eyes sweeping over every busy yet despairing figure in the command center. He

How could he not know?

The sense of despair here was heavier than the dust and smoke permeating the air.

He could even clearly distinguish the various gunshots coming from the street: the distinctive sharp bursts of AK assault rifles, as the elite rebel assault teams cleared buildings; the dull explosions of RPG rounds hitting walls, followed by the crash of collapsing bricks; and the increasingly loud and fanatical rebel soldiers' shouts, calling out "Allahu Akbar" in Arabic, surging like a tide—the enemy was indeed close at hand!

Just then, with a "bang," the reinforced iron door of the command center was violently flung open. A Wagner Guard team captain, his face covered with black soot and dried blood, and his bulletproof vest caked with dirt, burst in. He didn't even have time to salute, his voice urgent almost to the point of breaking: "Boss! Mr. Song! It's bad! The last barricade on the east side has been flattened by the rebels' tanks! Their troops are pouring in through Kasa Street and Victory Street! They might be less than 500 meters from the command center building! The guard team is fighting desperately to hold them back, but there are too many of them, and they have tank support! It's too dangerous here! We must immediately evacuate through the west emergency passage! Right now!"

The air in the command center instantly froze!

All the staff involuntarily stopped their work, their eyes turning uniformly towards Song Heping and the Chef, filled with panic, fear, and a last glimmer of hope.

The Chef said nothing, just casting his eyes on Song Heping, awaiting his decision.

Under everyone's gaze, Song Heping slowly, yet with utmost determination, shook his head.

His gaze slowly passed over every face, finally resting on the sand table, on the blue arrow representing the "Steel Blade" unit—it pointed resolutely, unwaveringly, towards the heart of Otaba.

"We're not leaving."

Song Heping appeared very calm and resolute.

"This is the brain and heart of the entire Halaib army. If we leave and the radio is cut, orders cannot be relayed, the troops in the city will immediately lose unified command and coordination, turning into scattered sand, and all units will collapse completely in a short time. We must remain here, together with everyone, holding on to the last moment."

He paused, raising his wrist to look at his military watch, the hands relentlessly approaching four in the morning.

"Arseny needs more time. At least two hours, maybe even longer. These two hours, we must fight for with our lives."

He raised his head, his eyes like torches, looking at the anxious Wagner captain: "Immediately relay my order: all guard personnel, withdraw to the core area of the command center building! Use all doors, windows, and vents to construct the final line of defense! Bring out all the 'Contest' anti-tank missiles and 'Kornet' launchers left in the warehouse! Set up those NSV heavy machine guns at key windows! Use all the ammo until it's gone! Tell them, here, this is Halaib's last fortress! Here, this is either our gravesite or our medal wall! There is no retreat!"