Chapter 1430 - 1192: Inside the Deep Palace

Persian Plateau, secret camp.

In contrast to the cold luxury of Moscow, the atmosphere here was one of extreme tension and killing intent.

In a reinforced command center in the middle of the base, Jiang Feng had just finished a call with Song Heping.

He put down the encrypted satellite phone identical to Song Heping's and stood up, walking over to the gigantic tactical map.

On the map, Sulaimaniyah and its surrounding areas had been circled with red marker.

Next to it were dense annotations of troop deployments, route planning, and supply node markings.

"Communications Officer!"

Jiang Feng's voice instantly spread throughout the command center.

"Here!"

A young officer from the Liberation Forces immediately stood up to respond.

"Immediately convey my orders!"

Jiang Feng's gaze swept over everyone in the command center: "Effective immediately, the camp is in a state of first-level military readiness! All unit commanders are to gather in the operations meeting room in half an hour!"

"Yes!"

The order was quickly relayed down, like a giant stone cast into a calm lake, instantly setting the entire base into a fervor.

Jiang Feng stood before the map, staring intently at the point representing Sulaimaniyah.

He knew the "Operation Broken Sword" was not just a simple military occupation; it was about the future strategic space of the Liberation Forces, about leveraging the power struggles of major nations, and about the fate of thousands of militia who followed Song Heping and himself.

This was a high-stakes gamble.

Leader Song Heping had already pushed all his chips to the center of the table.

"Sulaimaniyah..."

Jiang Feng murmured, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the edge of the map, mumbling to himself: "Americans, are you ready to pay the price?"

...

After waiting in the hotel for forty-eight hours, Song Heping finally received new news.

Petrovich's secretary called, informing him in the simplest terms: "The highest leadership is willing to give you fifteen minutes. Be prepared. A car will pick you up at two in the afternoon."

No extra words, concise and straightforward, yet cold and impersonal, just like the style of Da Maozi.

Song Heping understood the importance of these brief fifteen minutes.

It was a chance to be officially exonerated, returning to the defense stage in a legitimate manner, or continue living in the underground world.

"Jiang Feng, what's your situation over there?"

Over the past two days, Song Heping had been maintaining contact with Jiang Feng three times a day to stay updated on the developments in Northwest Illinois.

If he guessed correctly, logically Buckdadi would soon take action.

Yesterday, Jiang Feng had called. According to spies lurking near Elbil, the 1515 Armed forces had been continuously mobilizing and assembling troops in recent days, and the atmosphere in the Kurdish Control Zone was tense, with troop movements to the southern part of the zone.

Meanwhile, the situation in Sulaimaniyah unfolded as Song Heping predicted, with a noticeable decrease in stationed troops.

Everything seemed to be evolving as anticipated.

"Just as you predicted, skirmishes have started to appear south of Elbil. According to reports from the spies we've sent out, currently at least twenty thousand 1515 Armed personnel and a large amount of heavy artillery are gathered on the southern front. It seems Buckdadi really intends to make a bold move."

Jiang Feng's report made Song Heping feel instantly invigorated.

Like someone handing a pillow to a drowsy person.

These past two days had been quite trying.

If, before being summoned, the 1515 Armed and the Kurd Armed did not start fighting, his plans would be subject to some doubt.

Thus, he could only continue to stall for time, waiting for the war between the 1515 and the Kurds to erupt.

If the conflict never happened and Buckdadi somehow swallowed his pride, Americans wouldn't be under pressure, and Simon couldn't confidently propose cooperation with him.

Without intent for cooperation from Americans, neither Russia nor Persia would agree.

In this scenario, his trip to Moscow would be pointless.

Missing this opportunity, when the next chance would arise was uncertain to himself.

Of course, Song Heping wasn't without backup plans.

Even if this cooperation fell through, there were still paths to pursue.

After training for nearly a year, over ten thousand people were enough to gain a foothold in Northwest Illinois, relying solely on Persia or utilizing the Chef's high-level connections in the Kremlin to carve out their own territory.

The problem was that if Americans controlled the skies, remaining in an adversarial state would mean facing daily bombardments.

The taste of bombings is far from pleasant.

This wasn't about small squad special operations; it was over ten thousand people striving for survival between the gaps of the 1515 Armed, Kurd Armed, Iliko Government Army, pro-government militia organizations, and Americans, aiming to claim a piece of territory in the wolf-infested northwest.

The human and financial costs would be enormous.

Song Heping, who came from a background in special operations, didn't favor achieving maximum results with minimum costs through filling numbers; such choices were forced, never a first option...

"I'm going to the Kremlin this afternoon." Song Heping took a deep breath and said: "If the timing is right over in Sulaimaniyah, you can act now."

Saying this, he raised his hand to glance at the watch.

The time was 11:10 am.

"I hope to hear news of your victory by four in the afternoon."

...

That afternoon, under the suffocating security, Song Heping emerged from the hotel and got into a plain black car heading for the architectural complex symbolizing the pinnacle of Russian power.

Passing through multiple checkpoints guarded by sharp-eyed Presidential Guard in crisp uniforms, and walking the long corridors laid with scarlet carpets and hanging huge crystal chandeliers yet still appearing deep and cold, he was finally led into a conference room.