Washington's political storm continues to fernt.
Bits of news about Director Vincent's frantic efforts occasionally drip through Angel's intelligence channels to the Persian Plateau.
But for Song Heping, the clamor over there has temporarily faded into background noise.
There aren't many things he can do or needs to do right now.
Just wait!
Sitting back and waiting is foolish.
But reasonable waiting is different.
The mont he's waiting for still hasn't arrived.
At present, everything seems to be going smoothly.
Half a month has passed, and the developnts in Illiguo and Siria align with all of Song Heping's predictions.
The US Army and the Illigo Governnt face obstacles advancing west toward Mosul, even with overwhelming air support, often causing ground forces to collapse and retreat once the airstrikes halt.
Without precise ground guidance, the US Army's decapitation operations are like headless chickens, floundering around and unable to find an accurate route.
The territories of the Kurd Ard in the Elbil Region continue to be nibbled away.
Since Ayoub broke away from the KPG Alliance, even Simon personally overseeing matters in Illiguo only managed to suppress the internal divisions among the Kurds—but couldn't stop the 1515 Ard from encroaching on the Erbil Region.
And then there's the CIA.
To cope with the upcoming Congressional hearing, Vincent has been quiet for many days without any actions against Song Heping.
His entire focus is on handling those Congress veterans now.
The only regret is that Song Heping received a call from his sister, informing him of her upcoming marriage.
The groom is a forr sergeant—a detail Song Heping had heard about before.
Song Heping didn't object, given that he himself was a retired sergeant and has feelings for the army.
Most veterans generally have good character.
Whether the guy can make money or anything else...
Does it matter?
It absolutely doesn't matter.
If the young man knew how much his brother-in-law was worth, his jaw would likely drop to the ground in astonishnt.
Money, for Song Heping, really doesn't hold much significance anymore.
He now feels he's transcended it.
His vision has expanded.
People are like this; once they're fed and warm, money becos just numbers in a bank account. A bit more or less makes no significant impact.
What he desires is to do what he loves.
Of course, it seems God doesn't intend for Song Heping to remain idle.
On the day he finished encrypted communication with Angel to confirm the internal situation in Washington, the satellite phone on his desk buzzed urgently.
The number was routed through multiple encrypted channels, but Song Heping could faintly make out the region code pointing to Siria.
He picked up the receiver without uttering a word.
"Song... it's ..."
The voice from the other end was extrely weary and speaking in Russian.
The voice was all too familiar.
His old friend—Chef.
"Chef?"
Song Heping's voice was calm and steady, but his gaze instinctively swept towards the Middle East war zone map hanging on the wall, landing on the position of Siria.
"You're still in Siria, right?"
"Hehe, indeed I am..."
Chef emitted a bitter laugh from the other end of the line.
"Song, I need help—I urgently need your help!"
"Sounds like you're in trouble. Describe the situation."
Song Heping was concise, standing up to walk over to the map.
Chef's speech suddenly quickened, anxiety and despair pouring out through the airwaves: "The situation? It's terrible! It's freaking apocalyptic bad! The Kremlin is concerned with international image and the risks of direct intervention, so apart from preserving the military port at Tartus, they're unwilling to dispatch regular troops on a large scale even now! It's just us Wagner, along with those morale-scraping-low Silia Governnt Army, holding out! We're like using water guns against a forest fire!"
He took a deep breath, sounding like a broken bellows: "Listen, Song, we're currently besieged from all sides, every line of defense creaking loudly, and could completely crumble at any ti! I'm having such a hard ti..."
"The sky won't fall," Song Heping comforted. "Tell about your situation."
"The south!"
Chef almost shouted, "The southern suburbs of Damascus, and Deraa Province near the Jordan border, the 'Victory Front' mad dogs and 1515 bastards are mixed together, like locusts launching constant raids, infiltrations. They've reached the vicinity of Eastern Ghouta now, fiercely trying to break into Damascus to tear us apart completely!"
"The north!"
His voice beca even more hoarse due to excitent and anger.
"The north is fucking worse! Aleppo, the largest city in Siria, an industrial center, most of it is now in the hands of HTS (Sham Liberation Organization) extremists! Governnt army troops are divided and surrounded in a few isolated strongholds on the city's west side, bleeding every day! HTS's forces have already moved south, threatening Homs. What is Homs? It's the northern gate to Damascus, a transportation hub! If Homs is lost, Damascus will be directly exposed to the enemy's blade! We're now throwing the last active reserves, even newly trained recruits from the camps, into Homs' defense line, suffering heavy casualties... The front line is still retreating!"
"Most terrifying is the east!"
Chef's voice carried a chilly undertone.
"The east is where 1515's main force is! Their montum is the strongest, most savage, absolutely not following any rules, killing everyone who doesn't comply. Raqqa is already their so-called 'capital.' Currently, they're crazily expanding along the Euphrates River Valley, capturing cities, and governnt army's eastern strongholds are falling one by one. Now, their vanguard has approached Palmyra. That ancient city holds strategic importance—if it falls to 1515..."
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