US Army temporary command center, codena: "Outpost."
Colonel Kote stood in front of the main screen, which displayed battlefield live feeds from different angles.
The drone's overhead view of the chaotic battle zone, the blurred images from the Apache pilot's helt display, and the location details reported by "Poison Snake" 1-1.
"Unable to execute precise strikes, the risk of collateral damage is extrely high!"
The pilot's report pierced Kote's eardrums like a cold needle.
Just a few minutes ago, the early warning aircraft "Hawkeye" sent a more detailed analysis report: "A mobile cluster moving southeast, the number of heat sources has stabilized over 320, mainly light vehicles and so trucks. The vanguard is expected to reach the southeastern outskirts of Titrick within an hour. No large-scale heavy equipnt identified. But the force size... far exceeds expectations."
Force size far exceeds expectations.
Enemies and allies completely mixed.
Kote felt his temples pounding, a rush of anger and anxiety surging to his head.
"SHIT!"
The curse echoed inside the command vehicle.
"Order them," Kote's voice squeezed through his teeth, "to strike the enemy's follow-up units and deep targets! Any enemy vehicles or personnel groups moving away from the chaotic area towards the city should be prioritized for attack! Artillery! Call for our artillery! Suppress any possible enemy artillery retaliation and follow-up reinforcents!"
"Yes, sir!"
The communications officer responded loudly, starting to relay the orders.
Kote knew this might be futile.
The enemy's "Flying Cavalry" tactics are about rushing in and engaging in close combat, followed quickly by reinforcents to further escalate the chaos, rendering air superiority and long-range artillery advantage ineffective.
But he had to do sothing.
At this mont, the intelligence analyst turned his head, looking even more grim:
"Sir, our aircraft detected multiple intermittent, brief heat signal bursts approximately 10 to 15 kiloters northeast and northwest of Titrick, accompanied by audio sensor-captured gunfire. Pattern analysis suggests they might be enemy mobile artillery, hitting and running."
"Artillery? They still have organized artillery?"
Major Jas was incredulous.
Kote's heart sank.
Ambush, pickup truck charge, mobile artillery harassnt...
This isn't sothing scattered troops could pull off.
The enemy commander not only anticipated his attack but also prepared multi-layered counterasures.
Wasn't it said that the forces in Titrick had been routed by Song Heping's defeat of the 1515 remnants?
Wasn't it claid their commander Az had been captured by Song Heping's n?
How could they still be so organized?
How could they have so many troops and equipnt?
They don't seem like a demoralized routed army at all!
Where did they co from?
What went wrong with the intelligence?!
He furrowed his brow and stared at the screen for a long ti, until suddenly a place na jumped into his mind.
Ozham!
That's right!
It must be from Ozham direction!
Only there has enough 1515 forces!
At this mont, the Iliko Governnt Army's Ninth Armored Division in the Ozham direction is supposed to be launching a diversionary attack, which by plan should firmly engage the local 1515 forces, preventing them from sending reinforcents to Titrick.
Yet now Titrick suddenly sees so many enemies, far exceeding all intelligence estimates...
There is only one possibility—
The 1515 forces in the Ozham direction were not firmly engaged by the Ninth Division at all!
They likely left only a small force to delay the governnt army, while their main force quietly withdrew to reinforce Titrick!
If that's true, then either General Sai Fu is an incompetent fool, failing the diversion task; or he's deliberately holding back to preserve strength, attacking passively!
In Kote's view, either scenario is unforgivable, directly leading to his current predicant!
A cold flash appeared in Kote's eyes.
He needed to confirm imdiately and apply pressure.
"Connect to Ozham direction, Iliko Ninth Armored Division command post, find General Sai Fu himself!"
Kote ordered the communications officer, his tone indisputable.
He himself quickly walked to the dedicated secure communication terminal and put on the headset.
A few seconds later, the line connected, the background noise sowhat chaotic, faintly hearing sparse gunfire.
"Colonel Kote?"
General Sayif's voice ca through, carrying a slight hint of doubt and an imperceptible sense of detachnt, "This is Sayif. We are conducting a diversionary attack as planned. Any instructions?"
Kote's voice was seething with anger:
"General Sayif, Titrick's 1515 Ard forces are far beyond our expectations. We've encountered organized and large-scale ambushes and counterattacks, causing chaos on the front line. Additionally, our forces have detected a significant number of enemy reinforcents pouring into Titrick from the southeast!"
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, then continued:
"Based on our pre-battle intelligence sharing and planning, the 1515 forces in the Ozham direction should be firmly contained by your unit, unable to redeploy. However, the current situation can only be explained in two ways—either your Ninth Division and the governnt army under your command have not been effectively containing the enemy, allowing them to divert their main forces to reinforce Titrick; or our intelligence was wrong from the start, and Titrick has always had a substantial hidden force!"
Silence ensued on the other end of the communication for two seconds, Sayif's voice then carried a formalized defense and a hint of displeasure:
"Colonel Kote, watch your wording. According to the joint operation plan, the Ninth Armored Division launched an attack at dawn today against the enemy in the Ozham area. Our vanguard has broken through the enemy's first line and is fiercely engaged. The enemy's resistance is fierce, relying on terrain and fortifications to counter us at every step. My troops have suffered significant losses, but progress is as expected, and there's no sign of major enemy movents. Your ntion of 'main force diversion' lacks evidence."
"As expected?"
Kote almost let out a cold laugh but restrained himself, "General, I don't care what your 'expectations' are. What I need now are results! The enemy in Titrick is vehently attacking my troops, and it's highly likely that they slipped through from your sector! I demand—no, I urge your Ninth Armored Division to launch an all-out counterattack imdiately! Not an 'as expected' attack, but an all-out assault at all costs! I want the 1515 forces in Ozham to feel deadly pressure, forcing them to use every bullet and every man in defense against your attack, and completely cutting off any chance of reinforcing Titrick with even a single soldier!"
His tone was severe, verging on commanding, even though structurally he lacked the authority to directly command the governnt army.
Sayif was evidently infuriated, his voice rose: "Colonel! I understand the difficulties you're facing, but my troops have their own operational tempo and risk assessnts! The enemy in Ozham has long established a strong defensive line; an impulsive assault would result in substantial casualties! My mission is to contain and weaken this enemy, not to engage in a costly siege! Besides, how can you be sure that the reinforcents to Titrick are from my sector? Couldn't the 1515 forces be redeployed from another direction?"
Kote closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Bureaucracy, preservation of force, shirking responsibility...
Sayif was dodging responsibility!
From another sector?
Where?
The reinforcents growing out of the southern desert?
The west where Song Heping controls Mosul and Bayji, unless those 1515 militants could fly!
Otherwise, it's impossible for so many reinforcents to infiltrate under their noses!
He was all too familiar with the common shirking tactics of the Illiguo governnt bureaucrats and military generals.
But now was not the ti for argunt.
"General," his voice softened:
"The 'Balance Beam' operation is the highest priority in the current theater. If the Titrick operation fails due to inadequate containnt of the enemy in the Ozham direction, soone will bear the responsibility. I will faithfully report the current battlefield situation, including suspected enemy reinforcent movents and this communication with you, to the Joint Command Headquarters and Baghdad. Now, as the front-line commander for the Alliance Army, I formally request that your forces ramp up their offensive efforts, at least initiating a strong armored assault to test the enemy's defensive strength and exert real pressure, preventing them from diverting forces."
He emphasized the words "request" and "report."
Silence enveloped the other end of the line again, interrupted only by faint currents.
After so ti, Sayif's voice returned, noticeably cooler: "I will consider your 'request' and assess the battlefield situation of my troops. However, I must prioritize the lives of my soldiers and the sustainability of our mission. Over and out."
The communication ended.
Kote took off his headset and slamd it onto the console.
He knew he wouldn't get imdiate help from Sayif.
The governnt army's "consideration" and "evaluation" often ant procrastination and perfunctoriness.
He turned around, facing the gazes of everyone in the command center.
A chaotic battlefield, a stalemated situation, uncooperative "allies," hidden real enemy conditions...
The "Balance Beam" plan, initially envisioned as a precise surgical operation, was turning into a bloody and uncontrolled pit wrestling match.
"Sir..."
Major Jas hesitated to speak.
Kote raised his hand to stop him.
He walked back to the main screen, watching as the tactical map continued to change.
"Inform all frontline units,"
Kote's voice was calm again: "Hold the current positions, establish circular defenses at the platoon level, prioritize fire support channels between units. Concentrate aerial forces on confird, non-engaged enemy follow-up echelons and artillery positions. Artillery on standby, prepare for counter-artillery operations. Additionally..."
He paused, his gaze sharp.
"Order Thunder Defense 'Alpha' company and 'Bravo' company to cancel the original airlift plan, advance to the high ground northeast of the brick factory area to establish a solid support point, and prepare a company-sized rapid reaction force. Should the Kold line show signs of collapsing, they are responsible for covering and stabilizing the front line."
"Also, activate the 'Plan B' logistics contingency, urgently transport anti-tank ammunition, dical supplies, and engineering equipnt to the front. We must prepare for potential attritional and defensive warfare."
Orders were issued one by one, and the command center sprang back into busy action, but the atmosphere had fundantally changed.
The initial optimism and ease were gone, replaced by a profound heaviness and urgency.
Kote walked to the window, looking at the bright sunshine outside.
The sky over the Titrick direction was stained with more black smoke.
"Balance Beam"...
The operation he had ticulously planned was now groaning under the strain of the enemy's brutal and effective "sticking" tactics and an unforeseen strength in forces.
The effectiveness of the first-stage attack fell far short of expectations.
Now, he had to find a way to prevent this defeat from turning into a rout.
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