Chapter 2106 - 858: A Troublesome Botched Project! (Part 2)

Victor held the phone, saying nothing.

Outside the window, the streetlights on Paseo de la Reforma were still lit, and Mexico City was still asleep at dawn.

"Colonel Morales."

He finally spoke.

"From now on, you're not defending. You're counterattacking."

He hung up the phone and turned to Bramo standing behind him.

"Notify the Foreign Ministry. Issue a statement that the Squid's attack on the Mexican troops in Sinai is an act of war against the United Mexican States. Mexico reserves the right to take all necessary measures."

Bramo was stunned.

"That's—"

"Notify the Navy," Victor interrupted him, "deploy the entire Mediterranean Fleet. The target is—"

He paused.

"Squid's coastline."

5 AM, Jerusalem, Prime Minister's office.

Shamir looked at the battle report that had just been delivered. The Egyptians moved. The Syrians moved. Those Chechens stormed into the Golan Heights. The Mexicans—they're really going to send a fleet.

The phone rang.

He picked it up.

On the other end was Moses's voice, hoarse as sandpaper.

"Shamir, the Americans called. They're asking if we're insane."

Shamir said nothing.

"And there's news from Moscow. That 'Principal'... he sent word saying 'Congratulations, you won.'"

Shamir tapped his hand on the table.

"Won what?"

Moses was silent for two seconds.

"Won an endless war."

7 AM, Cairo, Egyptian State Television.

Foad II, dressed in military uniform, stood in front of the camera.

Behind him was a giant Egyptian flag.

"People of Egypt, the Arab World, and all justice-seekers around the world."

His voice was hoarse, but each word was like a stone.

"This morning, the Squid State launched an undeclared military strike against Egypt. They destroyed our radar stations, demolished our air force bases, and killed our soldiers."

He paused.

"This is war."

"In the name of the King of Egypt, I declare that as of today, Egypt is in a state of war with the Squid. The Egyptian Navy will blockade the Suez Canal, and any ship attempting to supply the Squid through the canal will be considered a hostile target. The Egyptian Air Force will counter the military targets within the Squid. The Egyptian Army—"

He took a deep breath.

"The Egyptian Army will reclaim the Sinai Peninsula."

7:15 AM, Suez Canal, southern entrance.

Five Egyptian missile boats lined up, blocking the passage to the Red Sea. The missile launchers on the boats were already erected, and radar was scanning the sea surface.

Thirty kilometers away, a container ship flying the Liberian flag hastily turned around, and the captain on board shouted into the radio:

"The Egyptians are crazy! They're going to block the canal! What do we do?"

No one answered him.

There was only the piercing static noise on the radio.

7:30 AM, London, Baltic Exchange.

The hustle and bustle in the trading hall increased tenfold in two hours.

Brent Crude Oil broke through seventy dollars. Broke through seventy-five dollars. Broke through eighty dollars.

A trader slumped in his chair, watching the steeply rising curve on the screen, muttering:

"Eighty dollars a barrel... I've been in this for thirty years, never seen this number."

The person next to him didn't respond.

Everyone was focusing on another news item.

The Suez Canal Authority had just issued a notice: the canal is indefinitely closed. All ships, regardless of nationality or cargo, are not allowed to pass.

Global shipping, cut off.

8 AM, Washington, White House.

The President sat in the Oval Office, watching CNN live.

On the screen, Foad II was making a war declaration. The subtitles translated into English, each word like a knife.

The Chief of Staff stood next to him, his face pale.

"Mr. President, the Europeans blew up. The German Chancellor called asking what we're going to do. The French said they're sending warships to the Mediterranean. The British—"

"What about the British?"

The Chief of Staff swallowed.

"The British said they have a pact with Egypt. If the Suez Canal is threatened, they have the right to intervene."

The President was silent for three seconds.

Then he laughed.

His laughter was unpleasant.

"Good. Very good. Everyone is fighting, and we're just sitting here watching."

He stood up, walked to the window.

"Inform the Minister of Defense to have the Sixth Fleet enter combat readiness. Notify the State Department to call the Squid. Tell them—"

He paused.

"Tell them the United States will not intervene. They made their bed, let them lie in it."

9 AM, Tel Aviv, Rabin Square.

A hundred thousand people returned again.

But this time, they're not shouting "war."

This time, they're hiding.

The air raid alarm blared for fifteen minutes, no one dared to stand in the square. People were squeezed at subway entrances, in underground parking lots, anywhere they could shield themselves from above.

In the sky, more than a dozen Egyptian Air Force Mirage 3s were dogfighting with the Squid's F-16s. The missile trails streaked overhead, explosions coming from the north, muffled, like thunder.

A young woman, holding a child, crouched in a corner, trembling.

"Mom, I'm scared."

The child's voice was faint.

The woman said nothing.

She just held the child tighter.

10 AM, Damascus, Syrian Ministry of Defense.

Hafez Assad sat behind his desk, looking at the battle report that had just been delivered.

Golan Heights, the Chechens had already breached the third line of defense. The Squid's tanks were counterattacking, but the Chechens didn't hide. They charged forward into the shellfire, one after another falling, and one after another stepping up.