Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1063 A Loose Plate

Song Heping didn't sleep well on the first night at the camp in northern Iligo.

The situation here is beyond my expectations.

Before coming, Song Heping had read some information Henry had gathered about the recent situation in Iligo and knew that things were very bad there.

It has been half a year since I last left. I never expected that the 1515 armed group would expand so rapidly in such a short period of time, like a malignant tumor. Now it has swallowed up most of the northwestern part of Iligo and is still advancing towards Bakda.

Wherever they went, the government forces suffered crushing defeats, and the militias had little power to resist. Even the northern Kold's armed territories were eroded, and the important oil-producing areas in the northwest were basically in the hands of 1515.

Even more terrifying, Bakdadi actually announced the establishment of the "Levant" state, calling on similar perverted extremists around the world to join his camp. His speeches were very deceptive. According to the intelligence provided by Henry, in the past six months alone, more than 10,000 people have quietly entered Syria and Iligo through various channels to join the armed forces of the 1515 organization.

Even some naive and delusional Westerners are lured here to "sacrifice themselves" for these extremists.

If Song Heping used to look down on guys like Bakdadi, now he has to re-evaluate the demon he is about to face.

After studying maps and the situation until 3 a.m., Song Heping finally fell into a deep sleep on his makeshift cot.

Song Heping didn't mind this environment.

People who come from special forces have an extremely strong ability to adapt to their environment.

A bed, a meal, and clean water—that's paradise.

As the cold dawn pierced through the thin clouds, barely illuminating the deep valley where the "Jie Lijun" camp was located, and the sun slowly peeked out from the east, Song Heping's biological clock woke him up on time.

I had barely opened my eyes on the makeshift cot, and before I could even move my hands and feet, the tent flap was suddenly flung open.

Samir's anxious face peered in, his breathing rapid:

"Boss! Something terrible has happened! Just as dawn broke, those bastards from 1515 suddenly went berserk!"

Song Heping instantly snapped awake, all sleepiness vanishing from his eyes. He hurriedly asked, "Explain yourself! What happened?"

"Hadid! They're launching a full-scale attack on Hadid!"

Samir's voice trembled slightly, "Our sentries outside the city have reported that a large number of black flags are pouring in from the direction of Baghdadi in the west and Ramadi in the south! Pickups, armored trucks, and captured armored vehicles! The number... the observation posts estimate at least ten thousand! Like a black tide, they have been bombarding the city relentlessly since morning, it looks like they are about to launch an attack!"

Hadid?
Isn't that the gateway town to Bhagda?
Song Heping is very familiar with this place.

After passing Hadid comes Titrick. After breaking through Titrick, the 1515-strong army can reach the edge of the Bakda region.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to describe it as an army besieging the city.

Song Heping's eyes sharpened.

Ten thousand people!

Damn, 1515 really went all out to swallow this nail stuck in their throat!
"How many troops are left in Hadid's city?"

He hurriedly asked Samir.

Samir said, "The remaining government troops plus the 'National Movement' only amount to a little over three thousand! Their firepower is nowhere near that! The sounds of artillery and explosions can be heard dozens of kilometers away! Hadid... I'm afraid he won't last much longer!"

"What are you going to do?"

Song Heping quickly put on his desert camouflage uniform, grabbed the Glock pistol from the table, and holstered it.

"We must save them!"

Samir said decisively, "Hadid cannot be lost! If we lose it, and 1515 continues to advance eastward, once we take Titrick, it means we'll be isolated, cut off from all communication with other armed groups and government forces, both north and south, east and west. More importantly, once they take Bakda, the morale of the people of Ilig will completely collapse! I've already sent people to urgently contact all the resistance leaders we can still reach in the vicinity, asking them to come to the camp immediately for a meeting! To discuss how to support Hadid! Boss, I need you to step in and give them confidence! Tell them we have support, and equipment is on its way!"

Song Heping pondered for a moment, then nodded: "Alright. Gather them, the sooner the better."

At nine o'clock in the morning, the campfire in the center of the valley was relit, dispelling the chill of the early morning.

However, the atmosphere around the fire was colder than the morning air.

Of the seven leaders of "all the resistance organizations in the vicinity" that Samir mentioned, only seven actually came.

These men, some wrapped in thick headscarves, others dressed in haphazard military uniforms, wore expressions of weariness from their long journey and deep worry. They were unshaven, their eyes wary, constantly scanning their surroundings—especially Song Heping sitting next to Samir and the eleven silent Persian "Sand Fox" special forces members behind him.

Once everyone was present, the guards brought hot tea.

Samir stood by the campfire, his expression agitated, waving his arms and spitting as he analyzed the gravity of the situation:

"...Brothers! Hadid is our Achilles' heel! Once it falls, 1515's next target will undoubtedly be Hadid! With Hadid gone, Bakda will be exposed to 1515's blade! It's less than 200 kilometers away! Given their current momentum and equipment, they could be at our gates in half a month at most! Think about it! Bakda! Our capital of Ilig! If even Bakda flies the black flag, what does that mean?! It means that this country, both legally and symbolically, will completely fall into the hands of 1515's so-called 'Levantine State'! It means that we will all become homeless dogs, with nowhere to stand! All our resistance will be meaningless!"

He looked around at the leaders present, trying to see the flames of shared hatred in their eyes.

However, it is clear that the effect was not as good as expected.

The seven leaders sat by the fire, their eyes cold and indifferent, like dead fish that had been fished out of the water and left to dry on the floor for days. Samir, undeterred, composed himself and continued his urging: "We can't just sit here and wait to die! We must unite! While Hadid is still in the hands of the government forces and the 'National Movement,' let's concentrate our forces and harass 1515's rear from the outside, tying down their troops! Let's buy time for Hadid's defenders! Let's wait...wait for international intervention!"

Samir said this last sentence with some hesitation.

International intervention?

Who intervened?
Although the Americans withdrew their troops, they still maintained some military bases and combat personnel in Bakta and some eastern port cities.

But they have all turned a blind eye to 1515's rapid development in recent years.

There are rumors that the current leader of 1515, Bakdadi, was released by the Americans from Guantanamo Bay.

The relationship between them is even more shrouded in secrecy.

There are rumors that 1515 is linked to US intelligence agencies.

If this is true, then who can stop 1515?

Over the years, ever since the Americans entered Iligo and overthrew Saddam Hussein, they've also taken the opportunity to castrate the men of Iligo.

Everyone's afraid of Americans now.

Add to that a perverted 1515 organization.

Who can stop it?
Who dares to stop?
As expected, he was met with an awkward silence.

A burly man with a full beard, Abdul, the "chief" of a large nearby tribal armed force, broke the silence first: "Brother Samir, we understand what you're saying. Hadid is important, but Bakhda is even more important. But..."

He spread out his rough, large hands. “Look at us. What do we have? A few broken guns, a few hundred brothers. Three divisions of the government army couldn’t hold out in Mosul for even half a day. If we charged in, would we be enough to fill their teeth? Those are ten thousand mad dogs! Well-equipped, fearless! Crazy lunatics who would strap bombs to their bodies and charge. How can we fight them…”

Another lean, shifty-eyed leader, Mustafa, head of a smaller Shiite militia group called "Allah's Shield," chimed in: "What about the Americans? They left this mess behind, and now that 1515 has grown powerful, they're hiding far away! What about their planes? What about their special forces? Their ambiguous attitude is tantamount to condoning it! Without direct American intervention, our small force rushing in would be suicide! A waste of our last seed!"

"Yes, Chief Samir."

Another leader spoke up, his tone tinged with caution: "Our forces are too scattered. 1515 is currently riding high. If we rashly gather our forces and they target our main force, the consequences will be unimaginable. Perhaps... perhaps we should preserve our strength first, see if Hadid can hold on on her own, and then observe the reactions of the Americans and the international community..."

Fear, doubt, and a desire for self-preservation, like cold, venomous snakes, coiled around the hearts of every leader.

They longed for Hadid to hold, but they were also keenly aware of their own powerlessness and feared becoming the next target of 1515's crackdown.

Samir's impassioned speech appeared weak and even somewhat comical in the face of the real fears.

Song Heping sat to the side, observing everything with a cold eye.

His sharp gaze swept across the faces of each leader, capturing the subtle changes in their expressions—Abdul's helplessness and practical considerations, Mustafa's evasiveness and reliance on external forces, and the last leader's self-preservation...

They were a disorganized bunch, each with their own ulterior motives.

Are we expecting these people to unite as one and fight against the 1515's army of 10,000?
It's just a fool's errand.

Even someone as strong as Song Heping couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

The decline of a nation begins with its individuals.

Waiting for foreign aid?
Hug your thighs?
Waiting for international intervention...

I never thought of relying on myself...

This reminded him of the transport captain he had worked for before the liberation of his motherland.

Samir clearly sensed the suffocating atmosphere of negativity. Sweating profusely, he abruptly pulled Song Heping to his feet: "Everyone! Let me introduce you! This is my boss, Mr. Song Heping! He's brought powerful outside support! Musician Defense, have you heard of them? A very famous defense company back in Iligo, and still a very powerful one in North Africa. He's a military genius, and he's agreed to help us! The first batch of advanced equipment, including night vision goggles, anti-tank missiles, sniper rifles, and ample ammunition, will arrive within five days! There's also a $100 million funding package! As long as we all work together, we have hope!"

The news of $100 million plus arms support finally had some impact.

All eyes immediately focused on Song Heping.

There was surprise, there was doubt, and above all, there was a naked desire for "equipment" and "funds".

However, at that moment, Mustafa, the "Shield of God," narrowed his eyes, carefully examining Song Heping, and suddenly exclaimed:
"Song Heping?! Wait... that name... and that face... I remember now!"

He pointed at Song Heping, his voice suddenly rising, tinged with fear.

"You are...you are the 'ghost' on the US global wanted list! The 'terrorist' accused of planning multiple attacks in Afghanistan and Syria! A bounty of twenty-five million US dollars!"

These words were like pouring a ladle of cold water into a pot of boiling oil!
The scene exploded instantly!

　Asking for a monthly ticket!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)