The fla of hope that was about to extinguish suddenly rekindled.
"What did you say?"
The Chef asked instinctively.
"Gather everyone, a eting in half an hour. We need the main screen access point, now."
Song Heping repeated, his tone unwavering.
"Okay! Okay!"
The Chef reacted suddenly, almost jumping up, all dejection and anger instantly suppressed, replaced by an exhilaration brought about by extre pressure.
He knew that once Song Heping returned to the command hall, it ant there was a plan.
There is hope!
He imdiately turned to the command center and shouted with a voice that regained so strength: "Did you all hear that?! Stop all useless complaints! Communications officer, imdiately connect to the Damascus General Staff, the 4th Armored Division, the Republican Guard's 106th Brigade... all urgent combat readiness lines of commanders at the brigade level and above! Inform them that we'll host an ergency operational eting in half an hour, there is an important operational plan to deliver! Technicians! Check the main line and backup line, ensure smooth video communication! Quick! Move it!"
The entire lifeless command center seed to co alive instantly with a "sizzle" as if a red-hot iron was thrown in.
Officers and soldiers, awakened from despair by the sudden orders, instinctively began executing commands under the reinvigorated fighting spirit of the Chef and the mystery brought by Song Heping, even though they didn't fully understand.
The communication channels were once again filled with various calls, but unlike the previous chaos and despair, there was now a hint of tension and purposefulness.
"The main screen interface is over there, the third input port on the left side of the console, requires the highest-level password."
The Chef quickly said to Song Heping, pointing to the massive integrated display screen at the front of the hall.
Song Heping nodded and strode towards the console.
A technical sergeant quickly approached and entered a long string of passwords.
Song Heping connected his tactical tablet with a data cable and quickly operated a few procedures.
An encrypted connection prompt appeared on the screen.
The Chef looked at Song Heping's back, took a deep breath, and forcibly suppressed the various emotions roiling inside.
He walked over to the communication desk, picked up the encrypted phone, and personally began contacting the senior Cilia military leaders who were probably just as desperate at this mont.
Half an hour...
The current ti was as pressing as a noose around the neck.
After half an hour.
The atmosphere in the command center was extrely heavy.
The gigantic main screen was divided into more than a dozen windows, each showing a face either anxious, weary, or skeptical.
They were the highest commanders of the Cilia governnt army who could still be effectively directed, so in underground bunkers in Damascus, others in remote front-line command posts, with the background noise faintly echoing the rumble of artillery.
On the scene in the command center, the core Russian military advisory group staff officers, intelligence officers, and several senior Cilia governnt army liaison officers responsible for coordination were all in place, all eyes focused on the center of the main screen — displaying the main interface of Song Heping's tactical tablet, a complex battlefield situation map.
The Chef stood in front of the screen, scanning each video window briefly, without any small talk, he spoke directly, his voice hoarse but with an undeniable weight: "Gentlen, I am Yevgeny. Ti is pressing, let's skip the nonsense. We are facing a deadlock, but direct military intervention from Moscow will not arrive in the short term."
These words were like a bucket of cold water, making the faces of the generals in the video windows even more unsightly, with so even letting out suppressed sighs.
"But!"
The Chef's tone changed, raising his voice, "We are not without a chance. Now, Mr. 'Ghost' will explain his operational plan to everyone; he is my best brother and the most impressive military strategist I've ever seen. I believe if you've been following the news from Africa and the recent situation in Northwest Illinois, you would know who he is. I ask you to listen carefully, evaluate thoroughly, and then execute the decisions completely! This is our only chance to possibly change the situation!"
He didn't give anyone a chance to ask questions or voice doubts, directly stepping aside to let Song Heping take his place.
Song Heping stepped forward, his figure appearing prominently in all video windows.
"Fellow commanders, I am Song Heping, but many like to call 'Ghost'."
His voice was calm, yet carried an odd penetrating power, suppressing all the noise and discomfort.
The anxious faces on the screen relaxed a little.
"The situation is dire, but the enemy's offensive is not invincible. I've analyzed a large amount of intelligence and battle reports and found that they've overextended themselves. Their three-pronged assault appears fierce, but in reality, all rebel logistics are stretched to the limit, with chaotic coordination and fatal weaknesses."
He operated the tactical tablet, and the main screen's display switched to a national battlefield situation map of Cilia, with enemy and friendly positions clearly marked in red and blue, the interlocking battlefield state shocking to behold.
"Our strategy is: strike south while looking north, disrupt in between, and carry out external cutting of roots." Song Heping's words were concise and forceful.
"Strike south. The main offensive force on the southern front is the 'Victory Front' and its auxiliary foreign rcenary groups. Their assault is fierce but heavily reliant on foreign funding and the professional combat power of rcenaries. According to the latest intelligence from the Russian GRU..."
He switched the screen, showing a satellite photo and signal intelligence analysis.
User Comments
0 comments from readers