He walked to the liquor cabinet and poured two cups of tea.
He pushed one cup to the edge of the table.
"Sit down, Barzani."
Barzani did not move.
"I order you to sit down," Masoud commanded.
Barzani finally pulled out a chair, sat down heavily, and then took the teacup and drank it all in one go.
"There's been progress on the Baghdad side."
Masoud also took a sip of the drink, the amber liquid swirled in the glass.
"Song Heping has set conditions, very harsh, but not unnegotiable. The Abu You Brigade is to be reincorporated and treated like the regular army; Abu You himself will take a position in the military departnt of the committee, and additionally, support Samir's integration plan."
Barzani suddenly looked up: "Did you agree?"
"I didn't agree to anything," Masoud said, "but I agreed to continue negotiations. Saeed will have the third round of contact tonight. If the conditions can be adjusted, for example, limiting Abu You's position to a deputy, and his forces accept reorganization and redeploynt, then his forces can be dispersed, there's no threat, under such circumstances, we could indeed consider acceptance."
"This is surrender! Shaful surrender!"
Barzani stood up again, the chair toppled over with a loud noise.
"This is telling everyone that as long as they are ruthless enough, they can extort everything they want from us! Tomorrow there will be a second Abu You, a third Abu You!"
"Then what do you want to do?"
Masoud also stood up, and the two confronted each other once more.
"Fight? Six thousand n against three thousand five hundred, even if we win, how many casualties will there be? Five hundred? A thousand? Moreover, do you know that Song Heping's rcenary camp has already deployed to your flank? Do you know that Samir's forces are also moving north?! At the end, what can co from a battle? What would it bring? International humanitarian condemnation? The United States severing ties? Baghdad seizing the chance to send troops for 'peacekeeping'? Have you considered that?!"
He walked up to Barzani, his finger almost poking Barzani's chest: "I'll tell you what I've thought about. I've thought about who benefits the most from our internal conflict — it's 1515, those bastards! They're waiting for us to start fighting so they can stab us in the back! I've thought about how if we lose Kirkuk's oil revenue for three months, our finances will collapse, we won't even be able to pay the soldiers! I've thought about how if we divide now, how history books will describe it twenty years from now — 'The Kurd people were just one step away from establishing a nation, only to be destroyed by internal strife'!"
Barzani's chest heaved violently, but this ti he did not refute.
"Now,"
Masoud took a step back, adjusted his traditional robe, and restored his presidential dignity.
"I give you two choices. First, order your troops to stop advancing and return to their original garrison, then we sit down and have a proper discussion on how to handle this crisis. You're still the highest commander of the military committee, I'm still the supre leader, we can still work together."
He paused, emphasizing his words: "Second, if you insist on fighting. Then at tomorrow morning's ergency committee eting, I will propose suspending your duties and setting up a special investigation committee to review this unauthorized military movent. anwhile, I will directly order the frontline troops not to fire the first shot, those who disobey will be charged with treason."
"Uncle, are you mad?!" Barzani's eyes widened: "You're going to take away my power?"
"I'm upholding the authority of the committee," Masoud coldly replied: "And the choice is yours."
The office fell into dead silence.
Outside the window, the city was fully awake, the streets were bustling with traffic, and the faint sounds of the morning market vendors calling out could be heard.
It was a scene of peace, a typical scene, yet it was built on fragile equilibrium.
Barzani stared at Masoud for a full minute, then slowly bent down and picked up the chair that had fallen to the ground.
He didn't sit back down but stood straight and gave a standard military salute.
"Mr. Chairman," his voice was as rigid as iron, "I will seriously consider your proposal."
After speaking, he turned around and left, his footsteps echoing down the hallway, each step heavy and resolute.
Masoud stood in place, watching the door close once again, without moving for a long ti.
He knew that once so cracks appeared, they could never be nded.
Barzani did not return to the front-line military command.
He had the driver circle the city three tis, confird there were no tails, then turned into an inconspicuous two-story building on Suleiman Street.
This was one of his safe houses, not even recorded in the military committee's files.
His trusted aides, following his instructions from before he departed, were already waiting inside.
Chief of Staff Faruk, Minister of Intelligence Kadir, Special Forces Commander Rashid, and First chanized Brigade Commander Tor Khan.
All four of them stood up when they saw Barzani's livid face, none dared to speak first.
"Sit." Barzani said just one word, then collapsed onto the sofa.
He loosened his collar as if sothing was strangling his breath.
Faruk cautiously asked, "General, how did the talk with Chairman Masoud go..."
"He wants to take away my power."
Barzani interrupted him, his voice hoarse.
"At tomorrow's committee eting, if I don't agree to withdraw the troops, he'll propose to suspend my duties and set up an investigation committee. Do you know what that ans? A shake-up of the military committee, all of us out, sitting on the sidelines, possibly even facing a military tribunal."
The sound of sharp inhalation filled the room.
Kadir was the first to react: "He can't do that! Your prestige in the army..."
"Prestige?" Barzani laughed bitterly: "In politics, what does a soldier's prestige count for? Masoud has been maneuvering in the committee for twenty years, he's helped every mber, he has dirt on everyone. If he wants to pass a resolution, it's as easy as turning his hand."
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