Damascus Army Hospital.
In that tightly guarded special ward area.
Ti seed to have frozen, yet also seed to be passing at double speed.
Outside the window, the night in the Syrian capital was still intermittently echoing with sporadic gunfire and cannon blasts, while inside was suffocating anticipation.
Song Heping was like a ditating monk, spending most of his ti quietly watching the news online or standing by the window, staring at the distant dark skyline.
In stark contrast to him was President Hafez.
The nation's top leader, at this mont, was like a lion trapped in a cage, pacing anxiously in the ward.
One after another, bad news arrived through encrypted channels, each like a whip lashing at his nerves.
"Idlib... lost..."
When a trusted aide responsible for security brought this news, Hafez's hand holding the phone trembled slightly.
"Held for less than forty-eight hours... The scum of the Freedom Army and HTS terrorists are moving south along the highway, with Hama in their sights! Our troops are in retreat! Without effective command, they are just a loose sandpile!"
He abruptly turned to Song Heping, his eyes bloodshot: "Song! We can't wait any longer! Every minute we wait, more of my country's land slips away! My soldiers and people shed more blood! I must go out imdiately to stabilize the morale of the troops!"
Song Heping closed his phone, turning to President Hafez.
His expression was calm to the point of being cold: "Mr. President, if you go out now, all previous efforts may go to waste. Moscow's decision-making needs ti and more importantly, a 'sufficient' reason. Your 'critical illness' situation is the final force pushing them to make a decision. If you appear now, it would be like telling the whole world, including doubters within Moscow, that this is a play. Then, the Kremlin's just-initiated war machine might co to an ergency halt, or even reversal."
"But that's my country!"
Hafez growled lowly, veins bulging on his forehead, "You want to just watch as it slides into the abyss? You're gambling with Syria's fate!"
Song Heping stood up, walked to Hafez, stared into his eyes for a few seconds before speaking: "Mr. President, from the mont we decided to lure the snake out, forcing the Russian side to intervene, this beca a gamble. We are gambling on Moscow's strategic resolve, on whether we can exchange for an opportunity to completely reverse the war situation. A small loss for a big win, a temporary retreat is for a fiercer attack. If you go out now, you will truly lose everything."
He pointed towards the door of the ward, his tone firm and decisive.
"If you do not trust my judgnt, you are free to go out now. But I can assure you, the mont you appear in public view is the key mont we lose Russia's large-scale direct military support. By then, you will not only be facing the enemy from the north, but also potential disappointnt and even abandonnt from the Kremlin."
Hafez stared at Song Heping, his chest heaving violently.
He understood the weight and cold logic in Song Heping's words.
As a president, how could he not understand the cruelty of politics and strategy?
Yet, the heart-wrenching pain of his holand's downfall made it difficult for him to maintain absolute composure.
In the end, as if drained of energy, he slumped back into his chair and covered his face with his hands.
Beside him, the chef patted his shoulder, speaking in an uncharacteristically comforting tone: "Mr. President, you must trust Song's judgnt. We've been mixed up in battles for so many years; sotis, patience requires more courage than a charge. Since intelligence indicates my holand has already moved, we need to give it ti to fully rage."
At this mont, a commotion was heard outside the ward.
The stern voice of Hafez's guard captain rang out: "Sorry, gentlen ministers! The President is undergoing ergency treatnt, and the doctors strictly forbid any disturbance!"
A slightly elderly but excited voice responded: "Treatnt? What treatnt requires complete isolation? We are the nation's ministers and have the right to know the President's true condition! The front line is in a critical situation; the country cannot be without a decision-maker! We must see the President with our own eyes!"
"Yes! Let us in! Otherwise, we cannot believe the President is still safe!" another voice chid in.
Evidently, several high-ranking Syrian governnt officials who rushed over after hearing the news were trying to force their way in for a visit.
The tense atmosphere seeped through the thick door.
Hafez instinctively wanted to stand up, but was sternly stopped by Song Heping's gaze.
Outside the door, the guard captain stood his ground, raising his voice by eight degrees: "Repeat! The President needs absolute rest! This is the final decision of the dical team! No one is allowed inside! If you continue to force your way, I will take necessary asures! Guards!"
The crisp sound of guns being cocked resounded, and the argunt outside quieted down, turning into indignant murmurs and gradually retreating footsteps.
Inside the ward, Hafez's face looked even more grim.
The taste of having his cabinet mbers blocked outside by his own subordinates was unpleasant, but it also confird the success of the "poisoning" act.
Song Heping said blandly: "Do you see? Even panic and distrust have erged among your core team, proving our act is very effective. Now everyone believes Syria is dood. If you reveal yourself now, all the previous 'severity' would collapse instantly. Endure a little longer, Mr. President. It's always the calst before the storm."
The next two days, for Hafez, could be described as the longest ordeal of his life.
The war reports from the north are getting worse. The Freedom Army and HTS coalition are unstoppable, capturing multiple strategic points in succession, pushing their offensive directly toward Hama Province.
Even more concerning, the 1515 Ard Group, which had previously been suppressed, has started stirring in the eastern desert region, seemingly sensing an opportunity.
Hafez has developed several cold sores at the corners of his mouth, making eating and sleeping extrely difficult.
Several tis, he almost rushed out of the ward regardless of everything, only to be forcibly stopped by Song Heping and the "Chef."
Song Heping even had the Guard Captain reinforce security in the ward, nearly placing Hafez under house arrest to ensure his "safety."
Until the next evening, close to midnight local ti, the stillness of the ward area was broken by a series of hurried yet restrained knocks at the door.
Hafez's Guard Captain entered with barely contained excitent on his face: "Mr. President! Mr. Song! The Kremlin is holding an ergency news conference! It's being broadcast live globally!"
The three in the ward almost simultaneously jumped from their seats.
Hafez grabbed the remote control and turned on the satellite television on the wall.
The screen quickly lit up and switched to an international news channel.
The familiar press conference room of the Kremlin appeared on the screen, where the spokesperson, dressed in a dark suit, stood behind the podium with a serious expression.
"... The Russian Federation has consistently been closely monitoring the developnts in Syria and its surrounding regions. We have observed that recently, terrorist forces within Syria have beco rampant again, posing a serious threat to regional peace and stability as well as to our country's legitimate interests in the area..."
The spokesperson's rhetoric was official and cautious, but the information between the lines made Hafez's heart race continuously.
After the lengthy background explanation and statent of principles, the spokesperson's tone suddenly shifted, becoming incredibly resolute:
"Based on the deep traditional friendship and strategic partnership between Russia and the Western countries, in response to the request of the legitimate governnt of Syria, to thoroughly defeat the terrorist forces threatening regional and international security, maintain Syria's sovereignty and territorial integrity, and ensure the safety of Russian military personnel and facilities, the Russian Federation has decided, effective imdiately, to take all necessary asures under international law and relevant bilateral agreents to engage deeply in the Syrian situation, assisting the Syrian governnt army in stabilizing the battle situation and restoring peace!"
"We did it!"
President Hafez punched the air, and his pent-up emotions of several days erupted instantly, making his eyes slightly moist.
The "Chef" Yevgeny let out an excited yell and punched the wall hard: "Suka! Finally, this day has co! My gun has been itching for action!"
Song Heping displayed a smile of relief.
He imdiately turned around and ordered the Guard Captain: "Activate all external communication channels, quickly!"
The three of them almost simultaneously retrieved their personal encrypted phones, which had been off for three days, and rapidly powered them on.
Instantly, a torrent of missed calls and ssage notifications flooded in, almost causing the phones to freeze.
Without any hesitation, President Hafez imdiately issued a series of orders to the Guard Captain: "Notify the press departnt at once, in one hour I want to hold an ergency press conference at the President's Mansion! Inform all cabinet mbers and top military officials, gather in the war room at the President's Mansion in one hour! Hurry!"
He must make an imdiate appearance, presenting himself in the most vigorous manner to the nation and the world, announcing his "recovery" and stabilizing the nearly crumbling military and public morale.
Song Heping then quickly dialed a number, and before the phone could even ring, Jiang Feng's calm voice ca through: "Old squad leader! What's going on these days!? We couldn't reach you! Ferrari was so anxious he almost flew to Damascus, but Hunter stopped him. Now he's also in Damascus looking for you through various channels, everyone says you were poisoned and are in a hospital!"
"I'm fine, this is not the ti for explanations."
Song Heping issued orders swiftly but clearly, "Imdiately notify Samir, Abu You, and Naxin to mobilize all associated forces into the highest state of readiness! Check all equipnt and ammunition, entering level one alert! Our next target might be Mosul! You and Henry get in touch right away, and have the company's intelligence departnt gather the latest deploynt information of the 1515 Ard Group in the Mosul Region!"
"Mosul!? Are we finally going to hit those bastards' northwestern base?"
Jiang Feng's voice was filled with uncontrollable excitent.
"Wait for specific orders. First, prepare."
Song Heping ended the call, his gaze turning to the "Chef," who was eager for action.
"Chef."
Song Heping spoke in a deep voice, "Leave Damascus to President Hafez. Our battlefield is in the north. The main force of the Freedom Army is heading to Homs, which is the throat leading to the coastline, and must not be lost. The Fourth Armored Division is still struggling hard, but it needs strong command and support. It's ti to move, we'll set off for Homs now, have your Wagner guys et us south of Homs."
The "Chef" grinned, revealing a row of white teeth: "I've been waiting for this! This ti, I'll let those Freedom Army wimps and HTS lunatics have a good taste of the feast I've prepared for them!"
A quarter of an hour later, several ordinary-looking SUVs silently drove out of the Damascus Army Hospital, soon blending into the darkness of the night.
Among them, three drove straight to the President's Mansion, where President Hafez was adjusting his appearance in a mirror, preparing to announce his return to the world.
The other three sped towards Homs in the north. Inside the car, Song Heping and the "Chef" laid out military maps, urgently discussing the battle plans upon reaching Homs.
The "dead" who had been silent for three days were now revived, and an unprecedented storm was forming around Homs, central to all of Syria.
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