Chapter 1602 - 1288: Large-Scale Let-Through (Part 2)

"Yes, Boss!" Samir, who had always liked to question orders, responded promptly this time with no questions: "I will arrange it immediately."

After the communication ended, Song Heping returned to the map.

His fingers moved between the Anbar Valley, Mosul, Bayji, and Titrick, finally stopping at Hulmatu.

"Kote, you want to play big?" he muttered to himself, "Then I'll play a round with you. Just hope you won't regret it by then."

That night, on the western border of Mosul, in the Anbar Valley.

This was a typical desert hilly area, with a dry riverbed winding through the valley, both banks lined with severely eroded cliffs.

During the day, temperatures can soar up to fifty degrees Celsius; at night, they drop sharply below ten degrees.

The 3rd Battalion of the Liberation Forces' position was on a high ground on the eastern side of the valley.

From there, they could overlook the entire valley, theoretically, any convoy attempting to pass would be impossible to miss.

But tonight, the situation was somewhat special.

Major Makiya, the battalion commander, squatted in the observation post, scanning the valley with a thermal imaging binocular.

His adjutant squatted beside him, whispering, "Sir, according to orders, Companies 1 and 2 have 'adjusted' their patrol routes, creating a three-kilometer gap in the middle of the valley. All mines and IEDs have been removed... all defensive equipment is 'temporarily out of service'. "

Major Makiya nodded, not putting down the binoculars.

He could see, about five kilometers away towards the western border, several heat signatures were moving—emitted by vehicle engines.

"They're coming," he said, "Tell the companies, without my order, no one is allowed to open fire. Repeat, no one is allowed to open fire."

The order was transmitted through encrypted radio.

On the position, soldiers checked their weapons, adjusted their postures, but everyone kept their fingers off the trigger guards.

This was an order personally given by Song Heping, although many did not understand, military orders are as unyielding as a mountain.

Time passed by the minute.

At two in the morning, the first convoy appeared in the valley.

Through the night vision goggles, Major Hassan could see the full picture of this convoy—

Twelve armed pickup trucks, with five or six armed personnel standing in the back of each truck, and machine guns mounted on the frames.

In the middle were three trucks, their canvas covers tightly fastened, not revealing what they were carrying.

The entire convoy moved without lights, relying solely on faint starlight and night vision equipment to navigate in the dark.

The speed of the convoy was very slow, obviously wary of potential ambushes.

The lead vehicle would occasionally stop, using infrared binoculars to survey ahead.

Each time this happened, the entire convoy would pause, and everyone would grip their weapons tightly, ready for battle.

But the battle never occurred.

The surroundings were silent and lifeless.

The convoy safely passed the first 'line of defense'—

Where supposedly a platoon should have been stationed, was now vacant.

Then came the second, third line...

Each time they were ready for an encounter, but met no resistance each time.

"Allah, protect us..."

In the convoy, a bearded commander prayed quietly, "This path is truly safe."

What he didn't know was that just two hundred meters above them, on the cliffs, at least thirty rifles were aimed at them.

With just one command, this convoy could be heavily damaged within five minutes.

But they passed safely.

At 3:20 a.m., the taillights of the last pickup disappeared in the east.

Major Makiya finally put down the binoculars and let out a long breath.

"Report to the brigade, the first group of 'guests' has passed, totaling fifteen vehicles, heading towards Titrick."

For the next three days, the same scenario played out every night in the Anbar Valley.

Sometimes it was small convoys, sometimes it was armed groups crossing on foot.

Major Hassan faithfully executed the orders: observe, record, let pass.

The news quickly spread within the 1515: There is a secret route in the Anbar Valley that allows safe passage into Illiguo to reinforce Titrick!

By the fourth day, the situation started to spiral out of control.

No longer were they just small pockets of dozens or hundreds of troops, but organized large-scale transfers.

In the command center in Mosul, Samir looked at the reports coming in from border lookout posts, his brows increasingly knitted.

"Last night, five hundred people passed through, along with four pickup trucks equipped with ZU-23-2 anti-aircraft guns."

He reported to Song Heping, "Today's daytime reconnaissance shows that at least two thousand are assembled on the Syrian border side, with more vehicles and equipment. Boss, are we letting too many through?"

On the encrypted channel, Song Heping's voice remained calm:

"It's just the beginning. Samir, do you know how big Titrick is? It's a city that can accommodate half a million people. To defend such a city, to counter the US Army's air superiority and Kote's ground forces, ten thousand is not enough, twenty thousand is not enough, at least thirty thousand are needed."

Samir gasped, "Are you saying we need to let through over ten thousand?"

"To be precise, twelve to fifteen thousand." Song Heping said, "And they must be combat personnel. Tell your men, just monitor, do not intercept, and absolutely do not alert them."

"But Boss, what I worry is that we're letting too many extremists through, making it tougher for us to deal with later—"

"That's a problem for later, do you think Kote attacking Titrick won't go all out? Do you think among all these over ten thousand that have passed through, how many will survive to the end?"

Song Heping interrupted, "Kote wants a clean and decisive victory, but war is never that simple. Since he wants to drive us into a corner, he must bear all the risks."

After the call ended, Samir stood in front of the map, staring at the crisscrossing routes and chaotic arrows for a long time, in silence.

The adjutant walked over and whispered, "Commander, are we helping those 1515 extremists by doing this?"

Samir turned around and looked at the young adjutant, "How old are you, Lieutenant?"

"Twenty-three, sir."

"Then you should remember what 1515 was like when it first rose."

Samir walked to the window, staring westward, towards where Titrick was, "In 2014, they executed thousands in Mosul, massacred an entire Yazidi village in Titrick. I had a cousin, a government army captain, who was captured by them and burned alive in an iron cage."

He turned around, eyes glinting with complex emotions:

"I hate them more than anyone. But Lieutenant, sometimes, for a greater goal, we must temporarily tolerate things we loathe. Mr. Song sees farther than any of us, he knows what we are doing."

The adjutant nodded seemingly in understanding.

Just then, a new report came through the radio: "Commander, direction Hulmatu! Colonel Kote's Alliance Army has begun to move! The vanguard forces have left Hulmatu, advancing towards Titrick!"

Samir quickly walked to the command desk:

"Notify all units to act according to the predetermined plan. The Anbar Valley route… will remain open for the last three days. After three days, a complete blockade."

"Yes!"

As the orders were given, five hundred kilometers away, in Hulmatu.

Colonel Kote stood in front of the command vehicle, watching the rolling steel tide before him.

Leading the charge were Thunder Defense's Stryker armored vehicles, with fully armed mercenaries seated on them; directly behind were the Kurd Armed pickup convoys, the warriors on the vehicles holding up flags, full of morale; in the sky, two AH-64 Apache Armed Helicopters flew low, the rotor wind howling through Kote's combat uniform.

"Sir, the vanguard is expected to reach the outskirts of Titrick in six hours," the operations chief reported.

Kote nodded, his gaze directed southeast.

There was Titrick.

"Song Heping, you must be watching from Bayji now," he muttered to himself, "Once I take this city, you'll know who truly controls this land."

Kote was filled with confidence, but what he didn't know was that at the same time he was gazing at Titrick, from Anbar Valley, from Western Mosul, from the Syrian border, thousands upon thousands of 1515 armed forces were rushing into the city like a surging tide.

A victory Kote thought would be easily in his grasp was evolving into a bloody battle he never anticipated.