Mercenaries, I Will Be King Chapter 1664 1331: The Arrogance of the Pro-War Faction (Par

But Barzani is different.

The commander from a military background believes in strength, asserting that war is the royal road to solving problems.

"ssenger!" Abu You suddenly shouted loudly.

"Present, Sir!"

"Notify the battalion commanders, eting at headquarters in one hour. Also, use encrypted channels to contact Baghdad, report to Mr. Song: The bait has been set, let's see if the big fish will bite."

At the sa ti, the lights in the military headquarters of the Kurdish Autonomous Committee in Elbil, 200 kiloters away, are as bright as daylight.

This is the brain of the entire autonomous region's defense system, with electronic maps and real-ti monitoring screens on the walls, and the underground three-story command center can withstand direct shelling.

At this mont, the atmosphere in the command center is sowhat strange, with a dense sheen of sweat on everyone's forehead.

General Barzani stands in front of the gigantic tactical map, the laser pointer in his hand like a surgeon's scalpel, precisely pointing at each critical node in the Kirkuk area.

Red dots flicker on the screen, sketching out a daunting scene of the situation.

"Abu You, that traitor!"

Barzani's voice reverberates in the silent command center.

"He has occupied twelve key oil field areas, controlling regions that produce 300,000 barrels of oil daily. If we don't act quickly, all of Kirkuk will fall into his hands."

He switches images, enlarging one of the oil well facilities.

In the conference room, there are more than a dozen senior officers, with the lowest rank being Colonel.

Most show serious expressions, sitting upright in their chairs, but different thoughts are revealed in their eyes.

So are angry, so worried, so calculating.

"General, Chairman Masoud has clearly expressed a desire to resolve this through negotiation."

Speaking is Aziz, the Vice Chairman of the Military Committee.

This middle-aged man wearing glasses is a loyal supporter of Masoud and one of the few in the committee daring to openly question Barzani.

"Negotiation?"

Barzani turns around, the red dot of the laser inadvertently sweeping across Hassan's face, like a drawn blood mark.

"Negotiating with a traitor? That only encourages more divisive behavior. The Abu You Brigade was once part of us but has now beco an enemy occupying our land. Weakness only invites more invasions, the iron law of history."

Aziz pushed his glasses, insisting: "But a military solution might lead to prolonged conflict, allowing the 1515 Ard to exploit the chaos. The intelligence departnt has just submitted a report showing they are watching the turmoil in Kirkuk. If we clash with Abu You, they might strike from behind at any mont."

"Precisely because of this,"

Barzani approaches Aziz, the distance between them shortening to less than a ter, looking down at Aziz sitting in the chair.

This is a typical stance of intimidation.

"We need swift, decisive action. Resolve Abu You within a week, then fully address the threat from 1515. This is the only way."

He turns to face all the officers, raising his voice an octave:

"Gentlen, we are facing not just a simple military problem but a political demonstration. If Abu You occupies our oil regions today and we do nothing, tomorrow there will be a second, a third Abu You! What will be left of Kurdistan by then? An empty shell divided by various warlords!"

Low whispers erge in the conference room.

Barzani's speech is very persuasive, but the expressions on the officers' faces show not everyone is convinced.

The eting ends at ten p.m.

The officers gradually leave, the sound of footsteps echoing in the corridor like the gradually receding beat of drums.

Barzani keeps three people, including Intelligence Minister Kadir, Chief of Staff Faruk, and Special Forces Commander Rashid.

Once the door closes, only the four of them remain in the command center.

Barzani's expression shifts from public strength and firmness to private cold calculation.

"Masoud is too weak."

He states bluntly, casually picking up the teapot to pour himself a cup of black tea, without adding sugar.

"He thinks the Aricans will always support us, believes negotiation can solve everything. But look at Yili, power respects only strength! Sadam's downfall wasn't negotiated, it was fought for; our autonomy wasn't negotiated, it was bought with blood over the years."

Intelligence Minister Kadir nods, this bald middle-aged man is known for his caution:

"The General is right. But if we openly defy the Chairman's orders, others will catch it as leverage. Masoud may be old, but his political roots remain."

"It's not defiance; it's 'decide first, inform later.'"

Chief of Staff Faruk interjects.

He's a confidant Barzani personally promoted from Lieutenant, with a camaraderie spanning twenty years.

"Once we reclaim Kirkuk and transfer control of the oil fields back to the committee, what can Masoud do besides celebrate? The public will embrace victors, and those committee politicians know best how to follow public sentint."

Barzani walks to the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing at the night view of Elbil.

This city transford from a border town into a modern tropolis within a decade, its towering buildings forming a sea of lights in the night.

Yet beneath this prosperity, lies a fragile geopolitical balance.

An autonomous region without a sea outlet, surrounded by four countries, entirely dependent on oil revenue.

"Deploy the 6th and 8th Brigades from Marwal,"

Barzani begins issuing orders, his voice calm and resolute.

"Deploy the 5th Brigade from Duhok, along with the existing 2nd and 3rd Battalions surrounding Kirkuk, totaling six thousand personnel. Heavy equipnt includes twenty-four armored vehicles, twenty-eight artillery pieces, and six sets of multiple rocket launcher systems."

He traces the invasion route with his fingers on the glass:

"Complete the assembly within three days, launch the attack at dawn on the fourth day. The main attack direction is the north side where Abu You's defense is weakest. Special Forces infiltrate twelve hours in advance, sabotage their communication nodes and command system."

Faruk quickly notes the orders, while Kadir pulls up the real-ti status of the relevant troops on his tablet.

"Should Chairman Masoud be notified?" Kadir asks, a procedural and political question.

Barzani remains silent for a mont.

The city lights reflected on his face, with slight muscle twitching on the right side.

"Notify him one hour before the attack begins."

Barzani finally says, "Through encrypted telegraph, the wording must be formal. Say that to protect the region's resources, my unit has decided to take necessary military action. That's it, go prepare."

The three salute and leave.

Only Barzani remains in the command center.

He steps to the tactical map, letting his finger stroke the position of Kirkuk.

The map marks the proven oil reserves—4.5 billion barrels, accounting for one-third of Yili's national reserves, making up seventy percent of Kurdish Autonomous Region's fiscal revenue.

"Abu You, my old friend," he softly says to the map, "you've chosen the wrong ally, and the wrong ti."