"Stop staring at the missile systems, listen to ."
Song Heping stood before the map for a long ti, finally turning around to break the silence.
He turned the computer screen on the table towards everyone, pointing at the image and said:
"Here — 'Rift Valley Corridor.'
His finger traced across the terrain model of a narrow, winding, rugged dry river valley.
"Whether entering Sena by air or land, to reach the northern forces and et with Lumar, this is the only route to avoid most radar surveillance from the air and facilitate concealnt for ground forces. The SAS must air drop quickly to et with Lumar, this is the inevitable path. The valley is narrow, and the highlands on both sides… form a natural slaughterhouse."
Song Heping's words were like a massive stone thrown into stagnant water, instantly stirring waves in the command center.
Everyone's gaze focused on the narrow 'Rift Valley Corridor,' their anger replaced by a purer, colder hunting desire.
Hunter bared his teeth with a smile: "Rift Valley Corridor... a great place."
He whispered, then his voice suddenly elevated, decisively, each word like a bullet hardened by fire.
"Then let's choose here! Give them a 'welcoming ceremony'!"
"Collins, Klein!"
"Here!"
The two stood upright instantly.
"You will personally lead two missile companies forward! Take all the mobile 'Sam-6' launchers and search radar! Deploy them five kiloters behind the valley exit, at this high point."
Song Heping's finger heavily pointed at a marked highland area at the end of the valley on the terrain model.
"Radar activation timing will be according to my orders! Your task is just one — keep the British 'Typhoons' possibly flying from the Red Sea, firmly outside! Don't let a single fly in to disrupt our 'party'! 'Stinger' squads will spread out as close-range backup, focus on defense against low-altitude attacks!"
"Understood! Turn their iron birds into bonfires in the valley!"
Passion flared in Jiang Feng's eyes.
"White Bear! Hunter! Queen!"
"Boss!"
The two responded simultaneously.
"The highlands on both sides of the valley are yours! White Bear leads the main force, responsible for the left wing, constructing anti-infantry and anti-armor fortifications, lock them down! Hunter, your n are responsible for the right wing, advancing covertly, laying mines, setting trap mines, monitoring possible infiltration reconnaissance teams! I want them to step into the valley where stones rain from above and Hellfire beneath their feet! Crush their elite air droppers in the valley bottom!"
Song Heping's voice carried an iron and blood flavor.
"Wula! Let the British taste the Siberian cold wave!"
White Bear roared excitedly.
Hunter rely nodded heavily.
"Henry!"
Song Heping cast his glance at the silent Ferrari in the corner.
Henry, busy with the computer, looked up "Boss, satellite and electronic intelligence support, I'm watching."
Ferrari said: "Our company's Russian crew from the aviation departnt is already on the way, arriving Sena by tonight. They have good skills, familiar with those MiG-23s in Sena Air Force, they will take over Sena Air Force's main force, responsible for commanding this operation."
Song Heping's eyes shone brightly: "Good! Have them head to the airport imdiately after landing, fully fuel and arm, be ready anyti! Tell them, after this job, the commission will double! But if they drop the ball."
His tone suddenly turned harsh, "I will launch them into space with a rocket pod!"
Having said that, he clapped his hands forcefully twice, shouting: "Everyone proceed with action preparation according to my orders imdiately, entering full combat readiness from now on. I've received word, the British will act in two days."
"Song, there's another matter."
Ferrari wore a hint of worry on his face.
"Now that your 'resurrection' is known to everyone, if the Aricans intervene..."
His face showed even deeper concern.
"Rest assured, I've already made arrangents, it will prevent them from collaborating for now."
Ten minutes later.
Orders like invisible currents instantly activated a massive war machine.
Under camouflage nets, 'Sam-6' missile launch vehicles and 'Stratosphere' radar vehicles roared like steel beasts towards the designated positions, tracks crushing stones and shrubs, leaving deep ruts.
anwhile, on the jagged hills on both sides of the 'Rift Valley Corridor,' countless figures moved like worker ants.
White Bear, bare-chested, personally directed soldiers in digging machine gun bunkers and anti-tank missile launch positions between rock crevices.
Heavy sandbags were stacked, covered with camouflage nets, leaving only narrow firing apertures.
Anti-personnel directional bombs carefully placed on steep slopes, trip wires thin as hair, nearly invisible under starlight.
On the right wing, Hunter and his n rged into darkness like ghosts.
Their movents swift, experienced, setting trap mines along the valley edge and possible infiltration routes — a seemingly casually discarded Soviet F-1 'Lemon' hand grenade, its pin tied with a thin line to a nearby dead branch; pressure-activated mines shallowly buried under loose sand, covered with carefully selected leaves; jump mines set within narrow rock gaps, once triggered, deadly steel beads fan out.
Hunter himself lay like a rock at an observation point with excellent vantage, high-powered night vision device's cold lenses pressed against his eyes, missing not a breath of wind or grass movent down in the valley.
Ti slipped by amidst tense deploynt.
Three in the morning, the air was icy cold.
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