After the call with Major Eitan ended, Yager did not pause at all and imdiately reconnected the video with Ms. M.
Ms. M's face reappeared on the screen, her eyes carrying an inquiry and a hint of imperceptible scrutiny.
"Madam."
Yager spoke directly, his tone carrying an unrefutable decision, eyes sharp as a falcon, "The border attack plan remains unchanged. You must imdiately issue directives to Sayif with the highest priority, instructing the GNA ard forces to launch a full-scale attack on the Northern Darfur border defense zone belonging to the 'Musician' base at the originally set ti! The montum must be massive, the firepower fierce! We must make Song Heping believe this is our main assault direction, forcing him to divert the core defensive forces of the base to support! This is the highest command and is not to be questioned!"
Ms. M's brows furrowed deeply, forming a crease: "Yager, you are..."
"We are executing 'Plan B'!"
Yager interrupted her, leaning forward, pressing his hands on the edge of the table, eyes staring intensely at the screen, "'Alpha' is already in position! Once Song Heping is drawn to the border conflict, with his main forces away, his stronghold will be at its most vulnerable! Eitan will deliver a fatal strike! This is the only opportunity to reverse the situation, or even achieve a decisive victory! I need Sayif's 'performance' at the border, now! Imdiately! At once!"
Ms. M was silent for a full five seconds.
The light from the screen cast an uncertain shadow on her face, while deep in her experienced eyes, doubts churned like thick fog.
Song Heping...
This opponent is too cunning, too adept at strategizing.
The terrifyingly precise ambush in the diterranean was by no ans accidental.
Now with the major troops pressing hard at the border, seemingly a desperate situation, could it be...
Yet another, even larger trap?
She opened her mouth slightly, seemingly wanting to emphasize the risks again, but seeing the kind of near-obsessive, all-in flas in Yager's eyes, and the imnse war machine of Mossad behind him already rumbling into action.
She knew that dissuasion was futile.
After all, it's the Daishe Bird's people taking the risk, she had already ordered the SAS to retreat, if Yager and their military want to gamble, let them gamble.
If they win, Great Britain can reap the benefits as well.
If they lose, at worst, only the GNA and Mossad personnel would perish, and she wouldn't suffer any loss.
She slowly nodded once, her voice returning to its usual cold sternness: "I will issue the orders. But Yager, rember my warning. I hope your 'Alpha' won't beco the next 'Hamr'."
After speaking, her image disappeared from the screen.
In less than a minute, the attack order, like an invisible radio wave, instantly crossed the diterranean, injected into the chaotic command center of Sayif in Tripoli.
Northern Darfur, "Musician" defense base underground command center.
On a gigantic electronic sand table, the dense red arrows representing Sayif's GNA forces, like a breached flood, suddenly accelerated and expanded along the long border line!
Information from the forward reconnaissance teams, high-altitude drones, and electronic listening stations poured in like snowflakes, converging into a dramatic real-ti battlefield situation map on the central big screen.
"Report! In the direction of the Ozu Corridor, the vanguard of the GNA's 3rd and 7th Battalions has crossed the virtual line of fire! Accompanying the attack are T-55 and T-72 tanks, as well as three BM-21 rocket artillery battalions!"
"Report! In the direction of Saral, a large-scale infantry assembly has been detected, at least two regintal units, constructing launching positions under artillery cover!"
"Report! Electronic reconnaissance confirms a surge in enemy communication! The command network's activity level has reached a peak! Confird as a precursor to a large-scale attack!"
The tense and efficient reports from the staff ca in succession.
The atmosphere in the command center was as heavy as iron, with only the humming of operating equipnt and the clattering of keyboards.
Everyone's eyes were focused on Song Heping.
He stood in front of the sand table, arms crossed, eyes calmly scanning each flashing red dot on the screen, with no expression of surprise, only an icy fierceness.
"It's finally here."
He murmured to himself, his voice not loud but piercing through the chaos of the command room.
Raising his head, Song Heping's gaze swept over all the officers and rcenary commanders present, issuing orders decisively: "Execute as per the established plan, imdiately! All combat units, move to the border defense zone according to the predetermined route and deploynt! Sniper teams occupy pre-set high points, anti-tank squads advance to pre-set ambush zones, artillery positions deploy according to Plan A! General Haftar's troops will follow the main force as the second echelon, ready to counterattack at any ti! Maintain communication silence, move out!"
"Yes, Commander!"
A loud response echoed in the command center, carrying the harshness of impending battle.
The order activated the switch for the entire war machine.
The base instantly ca to life!
The roar of engines shook the ground, with heavy armored personnel carriers and trucks loaded with soldiers and ammunition surging out like a steel torrent from various concealed shelters and garages, kicking up a storm of sand and dust as they rolled along the pre-constructed solid roads towards the gunfire-rumbling border line!
The once bustling sounds of people and machinery inside the base quickly faded, replaced by a kind of suffocating emptiness and silence that precedes a great battle.
The deepest darkness before dawn, like thick ink, heavily enveloped the vast desert of Northern Darfur.
Major Eitan pressed his body tightly against the cold, rough rock, like a piece of ancient basalt.
In the dim green world of his night vision goggles, the base codenad "Musician," a few kiloters away, stood clearly outlined like a sand table model.
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