Chapter 1870 - 1399: Sacrificial Pawn (Part 3)

"Then let them suspect." Masood said coldly, "Without us pinning down the remnants of 1515 on the Northern line and the militia supported by Persia, the cost for Americans in Illiguo would be much greater. They need us far more than we need them. At least at this stage, it looks that way."

He sat down again, folding his hands on the table.

"As for Song Heping... instruct the intelligence department to use the most covert channels to pass on the message that the US Air Force has already taken off from Kuwait to him."

Little Masood hesitated for a moment, "Father, this might anger Washington."

"Then let them be angry." Masood's voice did not waver in the slightest, "Politics is a game of benefits, not a game of emotions. If Song Heping wins this round, he will remember who helped him. As for the Americans... regardless of the outcome of this crisis, they need our presence in Northern Illiguo. Who else can they turn to? Baghdad? Tehran?"

He stood up and walked again to the map, pointing his finger at Mosul.

"This round, I bet on Song Heping to win."

He spoke softly, almost as if muttering to himself.

"Because he has no way out. When a person has no retreat, they unleash the most terrifying power. And Americans... those who have too many retreats always think too much, do too little, and ultimately lose everything."

Outside the window, in the night sky of Elbil, a crescent moon rose above the mosque spire.

From afar came the call to prayer, long and mournful, reverberating through the ancient streets.

And in Mosul to the south, the countdown had entered the final ten minutes.

At the same time, Mosul, Tenth Division Forward Command Post.

Song Heping watched the second hand on his watch jump tick by tick.

Three minutes left until the final ultimatum.

In the command vehicle, Samir and Abu You sat on opposite sides of the communications desk.

Samir was on the phone with the Ministry of Defense, his tone resolute.

"...Yes, Minister, I understand. But my intelligence indicates that there is a 1515 senior commander inside the base, this is an emergency counter-terrorism operation... No, I cannot withdraw the troops, the opportunity will vanish in an instant... Yes, I will take full responsibility."

He hung up the phone and looked at Song Heping, "The seventh call is through. Minister Fadil personally requested me to 'consider the bigger picture.'

"What did you say?"

"I said the big picture is eliminating terrorists." Samir grinned, "Anyway, it's all nonsense, if I say they exist, they exist, if they don't believe, they could send someone now to investigate, assuming they have the guts."

After he finished, he laughed more happily.

Abu You had also just ended a call, "It was the fourth call from Little Masood. I said the signal was bad, couldn't hear clearly, then hung up."

Song Heping nodded, "Thank you for your support."

"No need to thank me," Abu You said seriously, "I owe what I am today entirely to you, Boss, the Kurd people remember those who helped them."

Samir added from the side, "Boss, I've followed you for so many years, I won't speak sentimentally, whatever you do, I'll follow."

Song Heping nodded slightly without speaking.

Sometimes silence speaks louder than words.

He lowered his head and checked his watch again.

The final minute.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded outside the command vehicle, and Jiang Feng rushed in.

"Old Squad Leader, information just came from the Kurdish Intelligence Station. Four F-16s took off from the Kuwait Air Force Base 25 minutes ago, carrying ground attack munitions. The company's intelligence director, Henry, also sent a message that four F-15s from Turkey's Incirlik Base are on standby."

Samir's face changed slightly, "The Americans are really going for it?"

"Standard procedure." Song Heping remained calm, "When political pressure fails, military threat follows. When threats don't work, then actual strikes. Standard process."

"Then our air defense system..." Samir said worriedly, "I'm afraid it won't hold them off."

"It can hold for a while, but it can't completely block them."

Song Heping stood up, walked to the operations map at the back of the command vehicle.

"The attack formation will arrive in at least sixty minutes. That's enough time for us to do what needs to be done."

He turned to Samir, "Are the artillery ready?"

"Six 2A65 howitzers, sixty shells per gun, all loaded with high-explosive rounds. Shooting data has been calibrated, first-round hit rate over 90%."

"Test fire three rounds, targets: southeast corner of the base, northwest corner, central hangar." Song Heping ordered, "Conduct effective fire on my command."

"If the Americans retaliate..." Samir asked.

"Then let them retaliate." Song Heping's voice was unmarked by any fluctuation, "Then send another round of bombardment for them to enjoy."

He looked at everyone in the vehicle.

"The core of this round is not a military victory. We can't defeat the US head-on. The key is to create a political cost they cannot bear. Once the artillery starts, the situation escalates. The whole world will see the headline 'US Military Base Bombarded by Iliko Government Army.' Washington has to explain: why would an ally's forces attack them? How did things come to this point?"

Samir took a deep breath, "I understand. Use a limited attack in exchange for larger chips at the negotiation table."

"That's right." Song Heping nodded, "I have already contacted the relevant media, they're already warming up. But remember: we only hit military targets, absolutely avoid areas that may have civilians. I don't want to be passive in public opinion."

Orders quickly passed down.

Thirty seconds later, the radio in the command vehicle crackled with the voice of the artillery battalion commander, "Three test shots ready. Requesting fire authorization."

Song Heping looked at his watch.

The last ten seconds.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

"Fire."

He lifted his head, looked in the direction of the US Joint Operations Base, and coldly issued the order for bombardment.