Chapter 2121 - 862: Collecting Some Interest Up Front

"Boss, the Syrians have taken Lake Tiberias. The Egyptians have taken Arish. The Milk Tea Shop is pushing towards Tiberias. The Squid Men are nearly finished."

The Boss nodded.

"What about the Mexican Fleet?"

"It'll arrive in three hours."

The Boss smiled.

Smiled lightly.

"Tell Tehran," he said, "it's time to close the net."

9 a.m., Tehran, Supreme National Security Council underground command center.

Khamenei sat at the head, with three freshly delivered military reports spread before him.

Golan Heights: Syrian Army has complete control of the eastern shore of Lake Tiberias, Squid's freshwater purification system completely destroyed.

Sinai Peninsula: Egyptian Army captures Arish, annihilates the Squid's 401st Armored Brigade.

Lebanon Border: Hezbollah "Radwan" Special Forces advance to less than twenty kilometers from Tiberias.

He put down the reports and looked up at everyone present.

"Gentlemen," he began, "sixty years ago, our fathers fought on this land with blood and fire against our enemies. Sixty years later, it's our turn."

He stood up and walked to the giant map of the Middle East on the wall.

"The Syrians have taken the Golan Heights. The Egyptians have taken the Sinai Peninsula. Hezbollah has taken Southern Lebanon. Now—"

His finger traced a line across the map, from Tehran, through Iraq, through Syria, finally stopping at that point.

"It's our turn."

The conference hall was silent.

Then, the commander of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps stood up.

"Leader, give the order."

Mujtaba looked at him.

"The 7th 'Valadi' Missile Brigade, the 9th 'Fatah' Drone Brigade, the 12th 'Mahdi' Special Forces Division—enter maximum combat readiness. Target—"

He pointed to that point on the map.

"The Golan Heights. The Syrians have paved the way for us. Now, let's collect the bill."

10 a.m., Golan Heights, Syrian Army's 5th Division position.

Brigadier General Hassan stood in the newly established temporary command post, watched as staff marked the latest frontline on the map.

The Squid Men were still resisting but lacked the strength for a counterattack.

The communication soldier ran over.

"Commander, urgent message from Tehran."

Hassan took the dispatch, scanned it.

Then his expression changed.

An aide approached.

"Commander, what's wrong?"

Hassan looked up.

"The Iranians… are coming."

The aide froze.

"Iranians? What are they coming for?"

Hassan looked at the words on the dispatch.

"To collect the bill."

10:30 a.m., Tel Aviv, Squid Defense Army Headquarters underground command center.

Moses stood in front of the main console, staring at the intercepted Iranian military communication.

The 7th "Valadi" Missile Brigade. The 9th "Fatah" Drone Brigade. The 12th "Mahdi" Special Forces Division.

Entered maximum combat readiness.

Target is the Golan Heights.

He turned around and looked at the communication officer who had just returned from the Jerusalem bunker.

"What did the Prime Minister say?"

The officer's voice trembled.

"The Prime Minister said… hold on."

Moses was silent.

Hold on.

With what?

Five thousand weary soldiers, a hundred functional tanks, ten flyable warplanes, to hold off Iran's 300,000 army?

The communication soldier ran over again.

"Chief, signal from the Mexican Fleet."

Moses took the signal.

It contained only one sentence:

"Two more hours."

11 a.m., Mediterranean, Mexican Fleet.

On the bridge of the flagship "Independence," Admiral Morales watched the increasingly clear coastline in the distance.

Twenty nautical miles to Squid Territory.

The communications officer walked over.

"General, received encrypted communication from the 'Feathered Serpent Temple'."

Morales took the headset.

Victor's voice on the other end was very calm.

"Carlos, where are you?"

Morales glanced out the porthole.

"Two more hours to enter Squid Territory."

Victor was silent for three seconds.

Then he said:

"Tell them, Mexico isn't here for a vacation, give them a taste of colors!"

The communication ended.

Morales stood there, staring at the distant coastline.

He thought of Hector.

The one waiting for his brother in the bomb-riddled camp on the scorched earth of the Sinai Peninsula.

He picked up the intercom.

"All units, full speed ahead."

12 p.m., Golan Heights, Syrian Army's 5th Division position.

Brigadier General Hassan stood on the hilltop, watching the increasingly close dust clouds from the north.

The Iranian vanguard.

At least two divisions.

The staff officer stood beside him, face pale.

"Commander, they are coming."

Hassan nodded.

"Let them come."

He turned around, looking at the soldiers whose faces were also pale.

"Brothers, we've fought for four days, lost three thousand comrades, and captured Lake Tiberias. Now, the Iranians want to pick the fruits."

He paused.

"Tell them, Syrians don't buy it."

The soldiers were silent for three seconds.

Then, a veteran stepped forward.

"Commander, how do you want us to fight?"

Hassan looked at him.

"Wait until they get closer, then fight."

12:30 PM, Tel Aviv, underground command center of the Squid Defense Army Headquarters.

Moses looked at the screen.

Two red arrows approached the direction of the Golan Heights.

One from the north—Syrians. One from the east—Iranian.

But these two arrows did not converge.

They were closing in on each other.

Communications officer ran over, voice trembling.

"Chief, intercepted Syrian internal communication—they intend to fight the Iranians."

Moses froze.

"What?"

The officer handed over the communication.

There was only one sentence written:

"Tell them, Syrians don't buy it."

Moses stood there looking at the words and suddenly laughed.

Laughed lightly, bitterly.

"Let them fight," he murmured, "the fewer the better."

1:00 PM, Golan Heights, Syrian 5th Division position and Iranian 7th "Valadi" Missile Brigade vanguard line.

Soldiers on both sides stared at each other across a 500-meter open field.

Brigadier General Hassan stood atop a T-72 tank, looking at the opposite side through binoculars.

The Iranian flag fluttered in the wind. Green, inscribed with white scripture.

Their tanks were newer than the Syrians'. Their soldiers were more numerous. Their missiles aimed at the Syrian positions.

An Iranian officer rode over with two soldiers from the opposite side.

Reaching the front lines, he reined in the horse and shouted in Arabic:

"Syrian brothers! We are here to help you! Let us pass and together fight the Squid Men!"

Hassan jumped down from the tank and walked a few steps forward.

"Help us?" His voice was loud enough for all to hear, "We've fought our way from the Golan Heights, lost three thousand brothers. Where were you?"

The Iranian officer's expression changed.

"We—"

"You were in Tehran having tea!" Hassan interrupted him, "Waiting for us to finish fighting so you can come and collect!"

He pointed to the Iranian position opposite.

"Tell your Commander, if they want to pass, they'll have to step over our corpses!"

1:30 PM, Golan Heights, Syrian-Iranian standoff line.

No one knows how the first shot was fired.

But after the shot rang out, neither side stopped.

Tanks fired at each other, artillery bombarded, infantry charged.

Syrians and Iranians began a new war on the land they had just snatched from the Squid Men.

Brigadier General Hassan stood on his T-72, watching the Iranian tanks burning in the distance.

His troops had been fighting the Iranians for half an hour.

At least two hundred had died.

But more Iranians had died.

The staff officer ran over.

"Commander, a message from Tehran!"

Hassan took the message.

There was only one sentence written:

"Cease fighting! This is an order!"

He tore up the message.

"Tell them, there's no command on the battlefield."

2:00 PM, Mediterranean, Squid Territory, twelve nautical miles out.

Mexican Fleet, five warships in a row, stopped outside the territorial waters line.

Admiral Morales stood on the flagship's bridge, looking at that distant coast.

Jaffa. Tel Aviv. Squid's heart.

The communications officer ran over.

"General, 'Feathered Serpent Temple' encrypted communication."

Morales took the headset.

On the other end was Victor's voice, still so calm.

"Carlos, you've arrived."

Morales nodded.

"Yes."

Victor was silent for three seconds.

Then he said:

"Tell them, Mexico has arrived, and we're here to collect some interest!"

Kill them!!

...