Retreat!
Retreat imdiately!
While the main force is still intact, before Song Heping's reinforcents arrive, escape this damned at grinder! Rationality screams frantically.
But another voice, louder and crazier, explodes in his mind: Leave silently just like that?
Mocked by the rcenary leader like a monkey? After paying such a heavy price?
No!
Absolutely not!
A gambler's blood burns in the veins.
That fierce and arrogant smile crawls back onto Don's twisted face, but this ti, the smile only holds madness and a desire to destroy everything.
He seems to see the head of Song Heping, which he personally twisted off, the only dal to wash away sha!
"Yarif!"
Don grabs the microphone from the communications officer's hand, his voice sharp and distorted by extre excitent and killing intent, like tal scraping, "Listen! There's no second line of defense! Only victory! Or total annihilation! I order! All reserves! All who can still breathe! Deploy them all! Imdiately! Right now! At all costs crush them! Even if it's with piles of corpses, pile them onto Song Heping's position! I want his head! Now! Execute the order!"
At the other end of the microphone, Yarif remained silent for a full two seconds.
That silence was as heavy as solid lead.
Don could even imagine, through the static noise, Yarif's face, which always carried a hint of numb obedience, now surely filled with shocked and incredulous fear.
"...Yes, Captain."
Yarif's voice finally cos through, still obedient, but beneath that obedience, Don keenly detects a trace of sothing cold and unusual, like an undercurrent beneath ice.
Yarif puts down the vehicle radio microphone, exhales a long, suppressed breath from his chest, seemingly having made a final decision, he turns his head towards his adjutant, a similarly pale-faced GNA ard Lieutenant, his voice pressed low yet carrying an undeniable command: "Connect to General Sayif's secure channel. Imdiately!"
The radio operator's fingers trembled, quickly adjusting the knobs.
Soon, a voice with obvious anger and anxiety sounded over the encrypted channel, it was Sayif: "Yarif? What's the situation at the front? What is Don doing? Why did he cut off all communications?!"
"General!"
Yarif's voice was urgent and clear, "Captain Don has gone mad! He ordered all units to launch a total attack on the enemy's second defense line at 'Razorback' at any cost! We have already lost over one hundred and fifty n, the first wave of assault troops is nearly wiped out! He completely ignores casualties! I suspect Song Heping is using space to buy ti, to delay us! Don is defying orders! He is dragging the entire force into hell!"
"What?!"
Sayif's roar almost shattered the communicator, "This damned lunatic! London's order is to terminate 'Cutthroat'! Imdiately! I command you, Lieutenant Yarif, by the authority of the Tripoli Military Committee, imdiately revoke Don Rodriguez's command authority in the battlefield! Detain him! Control the units! Withdraw from combat imdiately! Anyone who defies this will face military justice! This is the highest directive from London! Repeat, execute imdiately!"
"Yes, General!"
Yarif's voice carried a slight release of harsh relief.
He cut the communication, took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over the few guards by his side who also heard the contents of the conversation, expressions wary and uncertain.
These were all tribal ard forces he personally raised, only obeying his orders.
"You heard it."
Yarif's voice was cold, "Don defies orders, leading us to destruction. Follow , execute General Sayif's command, disarm him! Anyone who resists..."
He paused, a flash of ferocity in his eyes, "Kill without rcy!"
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