Baghdad, Green Zone, US Joint Tactical Command Center.
Colonel Kote slamd the satellite phone onto the table, and the expensive encrypted device bounced a few tis on the oak surface before finally slipping onto the carpet, leaving a spiderweb-like crack on the screen.
"That damn yellow-skinned monkey!"
He growled in a low voice, his face flushed red, veins bulging on his neck.
The staff officers and civilian personnel in the command center instinctively lowered their voices, focusing on their docunts or screens, afraid of becoming the target of the Colonel's wrath. Only Kote's adjutant, Major Allen Miller, had the nerve to step forward and pick up the satellite phone from the floor.
"Sir, did Song refuse?" Miller asked cautiously.
"Refused? Ha!"
Kote sneered, stepping out from behind his desk, pacing the command center like a beast trapped in a cage.
"He not only rejected the proposal to attack Tetric but also went on about 'severe losses' and 'needing rest'—who does he think he is?"
Major Miller listened silently.
He understood the complex relationship between Colonel Kote and that Eastern Lord—both collaborators and potential adversaries.
The US Army needs Song Heping's Thunder Defense and the 'Liberation Forces' militia to contain the 1515 Ard in the north, but also doesn't want them to grow to a degree that gets out of control.
"He's just stalling!"
Kote suddenly turned around, pointing at the giant electronic combat map on the wall, "Look! Bayji, Mosul, parts of Kirkuk—two months! In just two months, he's taken control of nearly one-third of the Northern Illigo territory! Now he has oil wells, refineries, transport hubs! What's his next move? Establish a country?"
Major Miller looked at the map.
Indeed, the blue areas representing Song Heping's controlled regions had rapidly expanded in recent weeks, now forming a continuous stretch.
In contrast, the green areas representing US and governnt forces, and the red areas representing 1515 Ard, showed signs of compression.
"Sir, Song Heping's troops have just gone through tough battles in Kiri Town and Bayji, they do need a rest."
Miller tried to objectively analyze, "Moreover, he's sowhat right—we didn't provide him any air support during the Bayji pursuit battle, and that's the excuse he's leveraging—"
"Indeed! But after all, that's just an excuse!"
Kote interrupted him, "Our problem is, an uncontrolled military contractor is establishing a nation within a nation in Northern Illigo! And look at this—"
He walked to the console, swiftly popping up a set of satellite images.
The images clearly showed scenes outside the Bayji Refinery: dozens of trucks loading and unloading goods, and judging by the vehicles' paint and models, they were evidently not supply convoys from the US Army or Illigo governnt.
"Persians."
Kote said through gritted teeth, "All equipped by the Holy City Brigade, transported directly to Bayji from the border. Song Heping not only refused to attack the 1515 Ard but is also trading with our regional nesis!"
Major Miller scrutinized the images, his face becoming tense as well.
As an intelligence officer, he was well aware of what the Persian Revolutionary Guard's intervention in Illigo affairs implied—this had surpassed the realm of anti-terror warfare, stepping into the stage of geopolitical chess.
"Gather the staff team."
Kote made a decision, "In an hour, the eting room. We need to discuss one agenda: whether, and how, to bypass Song Heping and take Tetric ourselves."
He stared at the city marked in red on the map, a firm glint flashing in his eyes.
"If that yellow-skinned monkey wants to play the balance ga, I'll show him what absolute power ans."
An hour later, in the secure eting room next to the command center, smoke lingered.
Sitting around the rectangular conference table were twelve officers, ranging from Major to Colonel, covering intelligence, operations, logistics, air support, among other departnts.
Kote sat at the head, and the ashtray in front of him already accumulated three cigarette butts.
"Situation brief."
Kote nodded towards the intelligence chief, signaling him to begin.
A Lieutenant Colonel wearing glasses stood up, switched on the laser pointer, and directed it at the satellite image of Tetric on the screen:
"According to the latest intelligence, IS militants inside Tetric City amount to around eighteen thousand, reduced by about forty percent from peak tis. Their commander, Az, was captured during the Kiri Town battle, creating chaos within their command system, and morale is low."
The red point of the laser moved to the city defense map:
"Defensive structures are mainly concentrated in the southern and eastern parts of the city because they face territories controlled by governnt forces. The northern and western parts are relatively weak—this was also the suggested attack direction by Song Heping earlier."
"Equipnt status?" asked an operations staff.
"Approximately two hundred light vehicles, primarily ard pickups. Heavy weapons include over sixty mortars, about ten improvised suicidal armored vehicles, and an unspecified number of Russian-made anti-tank missiles—possibly smuggled from the Siria direction. No organized armored units, only a few outdated Soviet-made air defense systems."
Kote nodded, turning to the air support departnt: "If we launch an attack, what air support can we offer?"
Colonel Morris, responsible for air operations, was a bald middle-aged man who spoke promptly: "Two squadrons of F-16C/D, one squadron of A-10C, along with AC-130 gunships and ard drones on standby. If governnt forces can contain the main force of 1515 from the Ozham direction, we can guarantee 24-hour continuous aerial patrol and close support over Tetric."
"What about ground forces?" Kote asked the operations director.
"Currently, Hulmatu has fifteen hundred Thunder Defense rcenaries."
The operations director pulled up another chart, "If we have Thunder Defense deploy an additional five hundred reservists from bases in Kuwait and Jordan, total forces could reach two thousand. Moreover, we can coordinate with the Kurd Ard from Elbil to join the battle. They've already stated that if they receive more US aid, they can deploy five thousand personnel to cooperate in the attack."
Kote calculated rapidly: "Two thousand rcenaries, five thousand Kurds, making seven thousand ground troops. Plus air support, against eighteen thousand low-morale 1515 Ard forces, along with our special operations units..."
"Theoretically sufficient."
The operations director cautiously added, "But the premise is governnt forces must ensure containnt of 1515's main force from the Ozham direction, preventing them from reinforcing Tetric. Additionally, we need to consider logistics support and the evacuation of wounded."
"Logistics is not an issue." The logistics director chid in, "We can utilize the old airport in Sulaimaniyah, which is only a hundred and twenty kiloters from Tetric. C-130 transport aircraft can directly deliver supplies to the front line."
The eting room lapsed into a brief silence.
The officers exchanged looks, all assessing the feasibility of this plan.
"Risks." Kote broke the silence, "What's the greatest risk?"
The intelligence chief pushed his glasses, "The greatest risk is we might underestimate 1515's resolve to defend Tetric. Though they've suffered heavy losses, Tetric represents their last major stronghold in Northern Illigo. Its fall would signify a complete decline in their hold over Illigo. They might resist desperately."
"Furthermore," the operations director added, "if we divert too much air resources to support the Tetric offensive, governnt forces from the Ozham direction might face increased pressure. If that line breaks, and 1515's main force moves east, Baghdad would face more pressure."
Kote contemplated, fingers tapping the tabletop unconsciously.
After a long while, he lifted his head, his eyes sparkling with the light of a gambler.
"There's always risk," he said, "but there's greater opportunity. If we seize Tetric, we'll sever 1515's link between Northern Illigo and Eastern Syria, completely encircling and isolating them. By then, whatever trick Song Heping is playing in Bayji, the initiative will be back in our hands."
He stood up, hands resting on the table, scanning each officer present.
"Gentlen, draft up a detailed plan. Operation codena 'Balance Beam.' Within a week, all personnel and materials must be deployed."
"Yes, Sir!" the officers replied in unison.
Kote nodded with satisfaction, but none noticed the faint trace of unease deep in his eyes.
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