His expression changed unnaturally, and his fingers unconsciously rubbed the teacup.
Song Heping continued to press on: "But if you have Samir's support, the situation will be completely different. The 'Liberation Forces' now control over four hundred kiloters of border, with nearly ten thousand ard personnel, all of whom are battle-hardened veterans. Their recent achievents speak for themselves. If this force is incorporated into the governnt army, you will be their political backing. At that ti, who in parliant would dare not give you face? Even those tribal ard representatives will have to weigh their options in front of you."
Yusuf's eyes began to shine.
Song Heping knew he had hit the mark.
"Furthermore." Song Heping's voice lowered, "Do you only want to be a deputy speaker? Yusuf, you're only forty-six this year, the golden age for a political career. If supported by the military, running for Pri Minister in the future is not impossible."
The word "Pri Minister" struck Yusuf's heart like a heavy hamr.
His breathing noticeably quickened, his eyes gleaming with unabashed ambition.
"But..."
Yusuf licked his lips, his gaze once again falling on Samir beside him.
"Would my good cousin Samir agree? I an... would my cousin..."
Samir raised his head, his expression complex.
He had absorbed Song Heping's analysis, which stirred waves in his heart.
He indeed looked down on a slick politician like Yusuf, despising these so-called representatives of tribal interests and officials in Baghdad's political circle.
These people have no backbone.
When Sadam was in power, they were lapdogs.
When the Aricans ca, they continued to be lapdogs for the Aricans.
But Song Heping was right—in the absence of legitimate political status, his troops would forever remain militia, never receiving formal supplies or recognition.
His warriors bled and died on the front lines without even a formal title.
Following Song Heping now was still sowhat promising.
But would he depend on Song Heping for his entire life?
How would others view him?
How would he view himself?
"Samir."
Song Heping also turned to him, looking very serious.
"Think about it. What is your army relying on to sustain itself now? The equipnt I provide, the covert support from the Persians, seizing supplies from 1515. But all this is unstable. If the 'Liberation Forces' could be incorporated into the governnt army, your warriors would receive regular army pay, have military hospitals for injuries, and their families would receive pensions if they're killed. More importantly, they and their families would gain the country's recognition and respect."
Samir silently clenched his fists.
Every point Song Heping made touched a nerve with him.
How many tis had he witnessed wounded warriors painfully die due to lack of dicine; how many tis had he had to explain to fallen warriors' families why there was no state pension; how many tis had he heard complaints from his subordinates, asking why the Kurdish 'Brave Warriors' fighting against 1515 received governnt salaries, while they were left like neglected street kids.
"Moreover..."
Song Heping continued, "If you acquire an official military position, and manage to beco a division commander or sothing, with a major general's rank on your shoulder, you'll have a say in the Ministry of Defense. You'll be eligible to participate in arranging the defense of the Northwest Border and strategizing against 1515. Isn't this much better than being a 'civilian leader' now?"
Samir took a deep breath, looking at Yusuf.
Their eyes t in mid-air.
Blood ties were there, but more importantly, there was an alignnt of interests.
"Cousin..."
Yusuf took the initiative to speak, with a very sincere tone: "I know you look down on people like who play political tricks in Baghdad. You feel that we politicians only talk and don't care about the lives of the warriors on the front line. But have you thought about, what if we cooperated in different positions?"
He stood up, walked over to Samir, and placed his hand on his shoulder:
"You lead the troops on the front line, I'll fight for resources and policies for you in Baghdad. You protect border security, I'll ensure your achievents aren't stolen by others. We cousins join forces, one civil and one military, this is a match made in heaven!"
Samir was silent for a long ti.
The only sound left in the restaurant was the sizzling of lamb being roasted over charcoal.
Finally, Samir raised his head and looked at Song Heping: "Boss, do you think this is feasible? If it is, I'll follow your lead."
Song Heping nodded: "This is the best choice at the mont. Yusuf needs military support to consolidate his political position, and you need political backing to secure a legitimate status and resources for your troops. You are cousins, sharing blood ties, which is more solid than any political alliance."
He then looked at Yusuf:
"As for the work on the parliantary side, I believe with your current connections and thods, you should be able to find a breakthrough. With the Kurds, you can reach a compromise through negotiation—such as promising that the 'Liberation Forces' will not enter the Kurdistan Region. As for the Sunni sect representatives, you can promise them a greater share of future reconstruction projects in regions like Anbar Province."
Yusuf smiled, this ti a genuinely relaxed and confident smile: "Song, you're still the sa, calculating everything clearly. Alright, I'll take on this matter! But..."
He looked at Samir, "Cousin, you also need to cooperate with . You might need to give a few speeches in parliant, accept so dia interviews. You need to show those officials that the 'Liberation Forces' is a professional, disciplined force, not so ragtag militia."
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