Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1066 The Enemy is Approaching
"Wait!"

After ending the call with Angel, Song Heping felt even more reassured.

My prediction was correct.

The mobilization of troops within the United States and in the Middle East, as well as various congressional meetings, all seem to indicate one thing—American tolerance for 1515 has reached a critical point.

Song Heping hadn't forgotten why he came here.

If he were to risk his life leading Samir and his thousand or so men to Hadid to support the Iligo government forces, he would be taking a bullet for the Americans.

Moreover, from a tactical perspective, it's pointless; too much effort is wasted, and the fruits of our labor could easily be snatched away by the Americans.

From a strategic perspective, it makes no sense at all.

If you keep the land but lose the people, both the people and the land will be lost; if you keep the people but lose the land, both the people and the land will be kept.

The instructor's strategic thinking from back then is forever etched in Song Heping's mind.

He became even more determined to stick to his original plan.

"Samir, if you're still willing to follow my orders, then don't make any moves. Just listen to me, wait here, and wait patiently!"

He looked at his watch.

"Our equipment will arrive soon. We need to arm ourselves first, otherwise we won't even be able to protect ourselves, let alone compete with 1515 for control of Iligo."

"I hear..."

Samir eventually managed to suppress his turbulent emotions.

He knew that Song Heping was always good at planning and had a strategic vision that was far superior to his own. What Song Heping saw, he himself might not be able to see.

Since you've chosen to call him "boss," you have to listen to Song Heping.

At least, I never experienced failure when I was under Song Heping's command.

This is irrefutable proof.

An unquestionable authority.

Of course, not everyone can understand Song Heping's decision.

In the following days, many soldiers in the camp talked among themselves, saying that this newcomer from the East seemed very powerful, but was actually a coward.

Many people have serious doubts about Song Heping's command abilities.

Of course, there were also soldiers who supported Song Heping's views.

They thought the Easterner was right.

Going head-on into the 10,000-strong army of the 1515 armed group now would be suicidal.

That night, the situation in the Tikrit direction worsened further.

Information from various channels kept pouring into the "Liberation Forces" camp. The infamy and atrocities committed by the 1515 armed group after capturing the city spread like a plague between the silent faces of the soldiers.

Inside Song Heping's tent, the only source of light was the encrypted laptop connected to a satellite signal.

The content on the screen wasn't entertainment; it was a harsh reality that Henry had unearthed from the dark web:

A blurry video shows an abandoned checkpoint outside Hadid. Several government soldiers are pinned down, while hooded militants brandish machetes.

A flash of cold light, a spray of blood, and a head rolls off. The camera coldly zooms in, the photographer grinning maliciously.

Scarlet title: "The fate of God's enemies - the purification of Hadid."

Another, shorter passage: a burning village. Terrified civilians—the elderly, women, and children—are driven into an open space.

The cold muzzle of the AK spewed fire, and the crowd fell like wheat, the cries abruptly ceasing. Bodies piled up, and the black flag fluttered in the thick smoke.

Title: "Clearing the lair of infidels - a gift to the Caliphate"

The last paragraph is slightly clearer: the western outskirts of Tikrit. Sandbag fortifications are scattered, and the wreckage of Humvees is burning.

An excited voice-over roars: "The gates of Tikrit have fallen! The end has come for the Baghdad puppet government!"

This information was released by the 1515 armed group; they took the photos themselves.

Normal armed groups wouldn't dare to do this.

After all, such inhumane behavior would be absolutely condemned by any normal country and people.

However, 1515 is not a normal armed group.

They seem to have become fascinated with using cruel methods to intimidate their opponents.

By uploading inhumane videos to the dark web and distributing them through unmonitored channels, they are allowed to spread and ferment on the internet, and then spread by others.

Humans have a natural fear of cruelty.

These videos would be a fatal blow to some lieutenants with weaker willpower.

Their fighting spirit can be easily undermined.

For more than a year, the 1515 armed group had been doing the same thing.

Therefore, many members of the Iligo government forces and tribal militias developed a natural fear of the 1515 armed group because of these videos. Before even seeing the enemy, they had already lost three points in terms of morale.

However, this had no effect on Song Heping. His face remained expressionless as he swiped the touchpad: fast forward, pause, zoom in on details. His eyes, like cold probes, pierced through the bloody scenes, analyzing equipment, tactics, morale, and terrain.

There was no anger, no avoidance, only the focused concentration of a hunter assessing his prey.

After watching all the videos, he turned off his computer and got up to stretch his neck.

Suddenly, the roar of engines and suppressed commotion outside the tent shattered the atmosphere of despair.

"Boss! The goods have arrived!"

Samir burst through the tent flap, his face still covered in soot, his eyes shining brightly.

"arrive?!"

Song Heping couldn't help but glance at his watch.

This Nasreddin is reliable!
It actually arrived ahead of schedule.

"Come on! Let's go check out the goods!"

After saying that, he strode out of the tent.

After passing through the camp and leaving the valley, guided by Nassin and Samir, they walked for more than 500 meters and finally arrived at an open area.

Hundreds of heavy trucks covered with thick tarpaulins had just come to a stop, their engines still roaring.

More than two hundred Persian soldiers in plainclothes surrounded the vehicle on guard. The leading officer stepped forward and silently handed over a sealed document bag and a codebook.

Song Heping quickly checked the password, tore open the seal, and scanned the list—this was the initial core equipment prepared for the two thousand armed men:

rifle:

AKM assault rifles: 1500

G3A1 assault rifle: 500 units (including accessories)* (Iranian licensed production)*
ammunition:

7.62×39mm ammunition: 150 million rounds (packed in wooden crates)
7.62×51mm NATO ammunition: 50 rounds (packed in wooden crates)
Machine guns/heavy firepower: **
PKM general-purpose machine guns: 100 units (including tripods)

DShK 1938/46 heavy machine guns: 30 units (including dual-purpose anti-aircraft and anti-tank mounts)

ammunition:

7.62×54mmR ammunition: 50 rounds (metal ammunition belt box)

12.7×108mm ammunition: 20 rounds (metal ammunition belt box)

Anti-armor/breach-of-war weapons:

RPG-7 rocket launcher: 300 units

PG-7VR tandem warhead rockets: 1500 rounds

OG-7V fragmentation rockets: 500 rounds

Support firepower: 12 107mm towed rocket launchers

107mm rockets: 600

Explosives/Throwables:
F1 fragmentation grenades: 3000

RGD-5 fragmentation grenades: 2000

Smoke grenades: 1000

Materials and detonation devices for improvised explosive devices (IEDs): Large quantities

Support equipment:

Individual first aid kits: 2000 sets

Military rations: Enough to feed 2000 people for two weeks

Satellite phones and backup batteries: 20 sets

Portable shortwave radios: 10 sets

Night vision devices (Generation 1/2): 50 units

Brand new, unopened body armor (Level III): 2000 pieces

"Bring your people to inspect the goods."

Song Heping handed the list to Samir and then turned to walk towards one of the trucks.

The canvas was lifted, and a strong smell of gun oil and the fresh scent of wooden crates wafted out.

Samir led his men to climb onto the train carriage.

The gleaming yellow bullets piled up like mountains in the dim light, while the cold firearms gleamed with a ghostly blue hue.

Samir grabbed a brand-new PKM; the heavy gun gave him a sense of security.

"Crack!"

Pulling the bolt produces a crisp, pleasant sound.

"What a gun!"

Samir let out a cry of surprise.

Song Heping quickly inspected the boxes of RPG-7s and rockets, confirming that the fuse safety rings were intact and the packaging was sealed without damage.

He focused his inspection on the breechblocks and sights of several 107mm rocket launchers.

Their movements are professional and swift.

"The ammunition is brand new and perfectly sealed!" Nassin shouted.

"RPG-7 in good condition!"

"The 107mm gun parts are all complete!"

"Brand new body armor, Level III!"

Reports came one after another.

Song Heping walked toward the Persian officer and extended his hand: "The goods are very good. Please tell the general that everything he has done will be rewarded. I assure him."

The officer gave him a firm handshake and replied, "Mr. Song, the general said he has great confidence in you. He trusts you completely and asked me to convey his best wishes for all your operations here."

Song Heping didn't mince words or stand on ceremony, because so many vehicles crossing the border into Iligo was a major objective, and the unloading needed to be completed as soon as possible.

"Samir, stop standing there! Get everyone out here and unload the trucks as quickly as possible, then carry them back to the camp!"

The arrival of this massive batch of equipment acted like a shot in the arm, briefly dispelling the gloom.

The soldiers surrounded the truck, passing ammunition boxes and distributing weapons, their eyes filled with renewed hope.

Samir stroked the DShK's thick barrel and gestured towards the dark void.

It took a full three hours to completely unload all the supplies.

The Persians did not linger. After a brief farewell, they led their caravan north and soon disappeared on one side of the border.

However, before the joy of receiving equipment support could settle, cries and pleas suddenly emanating from the edge of the camp shattered this brief moment of exhilaration.

A group of people, about a dozen, were escorted in by sentries. They stumbled into the camp, looking utterly disheveled.

Song Heping recognized one of them at a glance as the tribal chief and his personal guards who had spoken ill of him by the campfire a few days earlier.

The burly man who had once slammed his fist on the table and shouted, "Cooperating with the plague god will kill us," now had his left arm in a sling made of dirty cloth, a deep, bone-revealing wound on his face still bleeding, and his eyes were vacant like those of a stray dog.

Another tall, thin leader who had previously accused Song Heping of inviting American retaliation was also present. He was now clutching a blood-stained child's coat, trembling violently, and could only whimper unconsciously.

A few days ago, they slammed their fists on the table and roared here:

"Samir! How could you bring such a plague here?!"

"Cooperate with a wanted criminal? The Americans will blow us all to bits!"

"Worth risking your life for some junk equipment? Not worth it!"

The way he looked at Song Heping was filled with naked fear, rejection, and contempt, as if he were a bomb about to explode.

At this moment, the group of people collapsed in front of Samir and Song Heping, as if their spines had been removed.

The leading burly man knelt down with a thud, his forehead hitting the sand hard with a dull thud. His face was covered in snot, tears, and blood, and his voice was hoarse and broken.

"Samir! Mr. Song! Save us! For Allah's sake!"

“Devil! Those devils in black robes have come! Our village… is completely ruined! Men are being beheaded like livestock! Women and children… are being dragged away… are being… Waaah…” He sobbed uncontrollably, his body convulsing violently.

The tall, thin leader lunged forward, grabbing Samir's boots tightly and kissing the mud-stained surface, babbling incoherently, "Take us in! Take us with you! Revenge! I want revenge! My son... he's only eight years old..." He raised the blood-stained garment and let out a beast-like wail.

The others also prostrated themselves on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly, their faces a mixture of extreme fear, despair, and regret for their arrogance a few days earlier, utterly humbled to the point of being dust.

Samir held the brand-new PKM and looked at the group of "tough nuts" who had been spitting and ravaging Song Heping not long ago, but now groaned and begged for mercy at his feet like crushed insects.

A strong sense of contempt surged within him.

He pursed his lips and looked at Song Heping.

Song Heping stood beside the 107mm rocket launcher ammunition box that had just been unloaded, his fingers brushing against the cold shell.

He didn't even turn his head completely; he merely glanced coldly at the group out of the corner of his eye.

He paid no response to their cries and pleas, as if the life-and-death anguish of the people before him were nothing more than insignificant background noise.

His gaze quickly swept past them, fixing firmly on the southwest direction.

These tribal militias were previously led by chiefs in the southern part of the country or in parts of northern Mosul. Now, their territories have obviously been attacked fiercely. It seems that 1515 not only aimed his troops at Bakhda, but also used the momentum of conquering Hadid to eliminate all tribal militias on the north and south flanks.

This aligns with strategic thinking.

If they continue to advance rapidly towards Bakda in the east without clearing their rear, their supply lines and flanks will be easily caught in a pincer movement or even cut off, preventing the 1515 militia in Syria and the 1515 militia in Ilig from supporting each other from the east and west.

That would be a fatal mistake.

It seems that there are some militarily savvy members in the 1515 armed group; they are not all mindless extremists.

"Give them treatment, food and water, and those who want to join us can join us, but there's one condition—"

Song Heping finally turned around and looked at the remnants of the defeated army.

“If you come here, you have to listen to me. This is not a playground where you can come and go as you please. There is only one outcome for those who disobey.”

He made no move, nor did he say what the "fate" would be, but everyone his gaze swept over understood.

One word—death!

　Asking for a monthly ticket! Asking for a monthly ticket!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)