Mercenaries, I Will Be King Chapter 1590 - 1282: Maze and Gambit (2)

"Colonel, latest update... the Persian forces have engaged the 1515 Ard outposts."

Kote forced himself to calm down, straightened his uniform, and reopened the door.

In the command center, everyone deliberately avoided his gaze, focusing on their work.

On the big screen, the battle had already started.

The Persian T-72 tanks fired at a distance of 1500 ters, high-explosive shells bursting on the 1515 Ard's positions.

Modified pickups seed like paper toys in front of the tanks, easily shredded by a single shell.

The advance of the Persian forces was thodical, with armored vehicles covering infantry advances, and artillery providing fire support, showcasing a formal military operation mode.

The speed and ferocity of this force's advance were beyond the reach of an average Persian Governnt Army.

Undoubtedly.

This was the elite core force of the Persian Revolutionary Guard.

Most likely the Holy City Brigade!

anwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, the previously suppressed "Liberation Forces" suddenly beca active.

They began organized counterattacks, switching from defense to offense, creating a pincer move against the Persian forces.

"Colonel, Song Heping requests communication," the communications officer reported softly, his voice filled with hesitation, "He said... he wants to thank you personally."

Everyone knew what this call ant.

The communications officer also knew that Colonel Kote least wanted to hear Song Heping's voice right now.

Kote's face twitched slightly.

This was blatant mockery.

But refusing the call seed to affirm his misjudgnt even more.

At least pretending to respond was very much necessary.

He took a deep breath, walked to the communication station, and pressed the answer button.

"Colonel Kote, thank you for your 'support.'

Song Heping's voice ca calmly through the speaker, infuriatingly so.

"Thanks to you, I suddenly rembered there's a risk-avoidance clause in our agreent, allowing to request aid from any ally when my forces face a lethal threat from 1515, if I recall correctly?"

Of course, Kote rembered.

The signing and discussion of that agreent, every clause had gone through his review.

It ant he was very aware that such a clause indeed existed within.

The supposed request for "any ally for assistance" was crystal clear, among Russia, Persia, the US, and Song, any party in the four-party agreent was nominally an "ally."

SHIT!

This cunning Easterner!

Every word from Song Heping was like a slap in Kote's face.

He could almost envision Song Heping's expression at this mont—the kind of ridicule and triumph hidden beneath that distinctive calm face of an Asian.

"You'll regret this, Song."

Kote lowered his voice, ensuring only the other end of the communication channel could hear, "Do you think the Persians are philanthropists? They have their own motives. You're just a pawn on their board."

"We're all pawns, Colonel."

Song Heping replied, "The difference is so people know what they are, while others think they're the players. Goodbye, enjoy your ti in Baghdad."

The communication was cut off.

Kote stood in place, like a clay statue.

The command center was so silent he could hear his heartbeat.

On the big screen, the joint offensive by Persian and "Liberation Forces" had already crushed the resistance of the 1515 Ard, the latter fleeing in panic.

"Colonel, Central Command has called back."

Jenkins broke the silence, "They're advising us... to exercise restraint and avoid direct conflict with the Persian forces. They're also asking us to assess the impact of the Persian presence in Northwest Illinois on regional security."

A typical bureaucratic response.

Neither taking responsibility nor providing solutions, rely requesting more reports and assessnts.

Kote nodded without responding.

He walked to the window, looking at the view of Baghdad outside the Green Zone.

This ancient city had witnessed the rise and fall of countless empires and the success and failure of nurous military adventures. Today, he added a new case of failure —

The US attempt to control Northwest Illinois through proxies, utterly foiled by one person's scheming.

And he, Kote, would beco a negative character in this failed case, to be written into reports, analyzed, and criticized.

"Record everything that happened today."

He finally turned around, his voice regaining the calmness expected of a senior officer, "Compile all intelligence, images, and communication records. I want a complete report for Central Command and the Ministry of Defense."

"Yes, Colonel," Major Miller answered, "And... regarding further action against the Persian forces..."

"Monitor only, nothing more,"

Kote said, "Notify all units, no engagent with the Persian forces without explicit orders. Additionally, enhance security around the Green Zone and surrounding US Military Bases."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over every face in the command center:

"Today's events are not to be leaked. Any unauthorized information dissemination will face court-martial. Understood?"

"Understood, Colonel!"

He received a uniform response.

Kote nodded, looking one last ti at the big screen.

The image showed Persian tanks and Song Heping's ard pickups parked side by side on a high ground, soldiers mingling together, so even embracing.

In the distance, the remnants of the 1515 Ard were fleeing in the desert, thick smoke billowing behind them.

A new era seed to have begun.

A new power structure was also forming in the Middle East.

Through this "rescue operation," Persia gained a "legitimate reason" for its presence in Northwest Illinois.

And Song Heping…

This clever rcenary leader not only preserved his forces but also found a pretext for Persians to enter Illinois openly.

As for the US Army, what did they get?

A record of failure and a ss to explain to Washington.

Kote walked towards his office, closed the door.

This ti, he didn't smash things, just sat quietly in the dark, contemplating his next move.

Failure is not the end, just another beginning.

Song Heping may have won this round, but the war is far from over.

In Illinois, in this area known as the "Empire Graveyard," today's victors could beco tomorrow's losers.

The Persian intervention will alter regional power balance but will also incite strong reactions from countries like Saudi Arabia and Israel.

And can Song Heping, this rcenary caught between great power struggles, really maintain this delicate balance forever?

Kote opened his computer and began drafting the report.

His wording was cautious and restrained, attributing so of the responsibility to intelligence failures and so to "unforeseeable regional force interventions."

He knew the bureaucrats at the Pentagon would accept this explanation—after all, no one wanted to admit being outwitted by a rcenary.

But deep down, a vow had ford in him.

Song Heping may have won today, but he won't always win.

In this world full of betrayal and violence, no one can stand victoriously forever.

Outside the window, night was falling over Baghdad.

Many kiloters away in the north of Bayji, bonfires were already lit, and victorious cheers echoed in the desert.

The contrast between two worlds was so stark, seemingly foreshadowing future divisions and conflicts in this region.

Kote knew he had to prepare for the next ga.

Because in this interminable war, nothing is certain, the only certainty is that the battle never truly ends.