Chapter 1878 - 1402: Chaotic Press Conference (Part 2)

"I told you," Song Heping turned off the screen and looked outside the car, "To politicians, a soldier's life is just a number. If losing a base can preserve greater benefits, they'll sign the approval. If sacrificing thirty Delta Force soldiers can cover up a scandal worth billions, they'll award them honors, but only posthumously."

He picked up the satellite phone and dialed Angel's number again.

"Move to the second phase ahead of schedule. Broadcast more live footage. I want the whole world to see how Washington orders these soldiers to their deaths yet does nothing to help."

"Dear, that's so cruel," Angel's voice trembled slightly, "Those soldiers..."

"Those soldiers are already dead," Song Heping said, "Or about to die. When Washington politicians made their decisions, their fate was sealed. If you want to save them, you can only apply pressure by broadcasting these images to make them abandon the bombing plan, otherwise..."

He sighed, "War is cruel, baby."

After speaking, he hung up the phone and pulled up the latest shelling footage, which was also the most brutal.

After watching for a while, he picked up another satellite phone and called Henry.

"Henry, check the company's server, there is the latest footage."

"Alright, Boss."

"Remember," he said, "Save this segment first, but don't release it. This is the final bargaining chip for Washington."

"Bargaining chip?"

"If they really insist on carrying out the bombing plan, when the first bomb hits our position, you immediately release this segment with the title 'US Air Force bombed their own wounded.' If they choose to negotiate..."

Song Heping took a deep breath.

"Then we delete this segment forever. Give those who died one last dignity."

Samir looked at him, "Boss, do you think they will give in? That's the White House..."

"I've been dealing with them for over ten years," Song Heping said quietly, "Studying their decision-making patterns, their red lines, their fears. I know Walter will order to hold the line, because his political career can't withstand surrender. I know the White House will consider bombing, because covering up the scandal is an instinctive reaction. I know Hillary's team will choose to cut ties because the presidential election is more important than the lives of these hundred or more soldiers."

Samir swallowed, moistening his somewhat dry throat, "Then... will we win?"

Song Heping looked at the distant base engulfed in flames for a long time, speechless.

"I don't know," he said honestly, "I'm not a god; I can't predict the future. But I know if we don't do this, more people will die, dying in politicians' calculations. If we can't change anything in the end, we must at least make the world see what happened here; someone must take responsibility for this outrageous mess."

Outside the car, the shelling finally stopped.

Not because of orders, but because the artillery battery had completed its scheduled task.

Twelve cannons, six rounds of volleys, seventy-two 152mm shells. For a base the size of a soccer field, this is destructive coverage.

The plains returned to silence.

Only the crackling sound of flames burning.

Song Heping glanced at his watch: 00:33.

Fourteen minutes until the US Air Force arrives.

Fourteen minutes...

He picked up the last communicator, tuned it to the public frequency:

"I am Song Heping. To all surviving US soldiers at the Mosul Joint Task Force Base: Your command post has been destroyed. If you can hear this communication, please immediately head to the south side wall of the base and wave anything white. My medical team will receive all wounded, regardless of rank or injury. Repeat: This is not a trap. I don't want to kill those who have already lost their combat capability."

He put down the communicator, leaned back in his chair, and after thinking for a moment, said to Samir, "Be vigilant in air defense, have the encircling troops disperse to nearby villages and towns to hide, increase the spacing and distribution of the entire force, don't concentrate together."

"Yes, Boss."

Samir turned and hurried away.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the globe.

US Eastern Time, 4:07 PM.

Angel was in a conference room on the 32nd floor of the Horizon News Group's Manhattan headquarters, absentmindedly looking at the view outside the window.

At the moment, her mind was filled with the man stretching out from Mosul.

She knew his situation...

This really was a man who fascinated her.

Only he dared to confront US power agencies time and again.

And still managed to retreat each time unscathed.

But this time...

Seems like the bet is a little too big.

Even Angel, who always had great confidence in Song Heping, felt uncertain.

Suddenly, her personal phone vibrated.

Seeing the caller ID, her expression slightly changed, she gestured to her assistant, and walked alone into the soundproof balcony.

"Speak."

"In twenty minutes, the first batch of materials will be uploaded. Theme: US Mosul Action Base attacked by Iliko Government Army. Exclusive live video footage, drone aerial shots, etc."

"Authenticity verified?"

"Cross-verified, no problem."

"Angle?"

"Three title suggestions: 'Iliko Government Army Attacks US Base: Ally Betrayal?', 'Mosul US Base Attacked, Suspected Internal Coup in Iraq', 'Significant US Casualties, White House Yet to Respond.' Use red alert template."

Angel began to quickly calculate mentally.

Now it's 4 PM on the East Coast, midnight in Mosul, the time difference is perfect.

If it's exclusive, it's enough to release before the Pentagon's press conference.

Shelling of the US base.

A news event significant enough to change the Middle Eastern strategic situation.