Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1185 Scammed?!

The "Black Canyon" pass is about 5 kilometers away from the previous "Death Bend".

The narrow road is flanked by hillsides, with a width of less than fifty meters in the middle and sandy and gravel mountains over a hundred meters high on both sides.

Samir personally oversaw the operation, commanding the most heavily armed ambush unit in this segmented blocking action.

Twelve 82mm mortars and eight AGS-17 "Flame" automatic grenade launchers were carefully deployed on the high points on both sides of the canyon, with a firing range covering the entire canyon entrance and the gentle slopes hundreds of meters in front.

When Eddie's battered and demoralized convoy was forced to converge at the canyon entrance, attempting to quickly pass through this final perilous section—

"Target: Enemy convoy assembled at the valley entrance, 450 meters away. Full charge, three rapid fires, fire!"

Samir observed the convoy crawling like ants below through his binoculars and coldly issued his orders.

"Tum! Tum! Tum!"

"Tum! Tum! Tum!"

……

The dull, rhythmic sound of mortar fire exploded like a festive salute.

Then came an even more intense, tearing sound, like a cloth-tearing machine—that was the AGS-17 unleashing a barrage of 30mm VOG-17M fragmentation grenades at a rate of up to 400 rounds per minute toward the valley entrance.

"Boo-boo-boo-"

"Boom! Boom! Boom!!"

Shells and grenades rained down on the tightly packed convoy with the precision of hail!

The 82mm mortar shell exploded upon landing, sending fragments flying in a fan shape at high speed, easily tearing through the thin body of the pickup truck and human tissue.

The grenades launched by the AGS-17 exploded in the air at a predetermined altitude, creating a deadly rain of steel that covered a vast area.

A pickup truck attempting to suppress the hilltop with a DShK heavy machine gun was hit directly in the front by a mortar shell, the hood was blown off, and the driver and machine gunner were killed instantly.

Another troop transport truck was hit by several airburst grenades, and the soldiers inside fell like cut wheat, their screams echoing in the air.

"Get off the bus! Organize a counterattack!"

Eddie's troops attempted to organize forces to attack the hillsides on both sides and seize firing positions.

However, the slopes are steep, making it easy to defend but difficult to attack.

The "Liberation Forces" snipers and marksmen specifically targeted officers and machine gunners attempting to assemble.

Whenever Eddie's soldiers paid a heavy price and climbed the high ground, all that was left for them was an empty firing position and a pile of scorching shell casings.

This precise, ruthless, and decisive "skinning" tactic, which involved striking and retreating without prolonging the fight, inflicted immense mental and physical torment on Eddie's once elite 5,000-strong force.

1515 The militants began to be highly nervous, and the extreme physical and mental exhaustion caused their morale to plummet.

What should have been a journey of a little over an hour took more than three hours to complete, barely covering more than half of the route.

Meanwhile, the radio kept receiving distress signals from the Mosul garrison, which had gone from initial anxiety to near-desperate cries.

"Eddie! Where are you?! They...they're attacking the last line of defense! We can't hold out much longer! For Allah's sake!"

The voice of the commander of the Mosul garrison was already tinged with sobs and despair.

Eddie abruptly closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the air, which was filled with the smell of gunpowder, blood, and burnt matter.

He knew that he and his exhausted army were no longer able to break through the layers of death traps and reach Mosul on their own.

In just a few hours of attacks, his own troops have already lost more than a thousand men...

More importantly, it's the car.

The vehicle damage was even more severe.

In addition, there were wounded...

At least several hundred people were injured.

This is driving Eddie crazy.

We can't just ignore the lives of our men and abandon the wounded to continue the advance.

"Oh God..."

He sighed, picked up the radio communicator, and connected with the supreme command.

“Emir…”

Eddie's voice was dry.

"Eddie?!"

Bakdadi's voice carried a barely perceptible urgency, "You've arrived in Mosul?"

“No… Emil, we… we’re still on the road, we’ve only gone a little over halfway… the convoy is being attacked constantly, we simply don’t have the time or the energy to send men to chase after those ambushers, and we’ve suffered heavy losses ourselves.”

"what?!"

Bakdadi's roar pierced through the receiver instantly, remaining clearly audible even amidst the sounds of gunfire.

"I gave you five thousand men! So many heavy weapons! And you're telling me you're being held back by a bunch of militia?!"

"They're not ordinary militia!"

Eddie's pent-up pressure and fear erupted at this moment, and he practically roared into the microphone, "They're like ghosts! They're using mines, IEDs, mortars, snipers... layer upon layer of obstruction! We've advanced thirty kilometers, encountered five ambushes, lost over a thousand men, and destroyed more than thirty vehicles! They specifically target troop transport trucks and supply convoys! Without reinforcements, I can't break through! I can't even guarantee that I can get the rest of the men safely to Mosul!"

There was a deathly silence on the other end of the phone, except for Bakdadi's heavy, bellows-like breathing.

After a long silence, he spoke slowly and deliberately, his voice chillingly cold: "You, are, threatening, me?"

“I am stating the facts, Emil.”

Eddie was desperate, his voice carrying a despairing calm, "Without Zarqawi's five thousand men returning, we'll all be slowly worn down and killed on this damned highway! Mosul will fall! Nineveh will fall! By then, if we haven't caught 'The Ghost,' we won't even have a foothold!" *Bang!*

A loud crash, like something heavy being smashed, came from the other end of the phone.

Bakdadi's rage erupted like a volcano, unleashing a torrent of vicious curses and roars, condemning Eddie's incompetence and cursing Song Heping's cunning.

After a burst of noise, another, calmer voice faintly came through. It was one of Bakdadi's core advisors whispering his advice: "Emir, please calm down! Although Commander Eddie's progress has been... unsuccessful, what he said is probably... not without reason."

"Mosul is the heart of our Levant. If it falls, our foundation in northern Iligo will be completely shaken. The blood of countless brothers and the enormous resources invested over the years will all be wasted. Song Heping... we will have plenty of opportunities to settle accounts later. But compared to Mosul, the outstanding balance of $25 million... is nothing at all."

He paused, a sly glint in his eyes.

"Besides, haven't we already received 2500 million?"

There was a long silence on the phone, with only Bakdadi's heavy, unwilling breathing audible.

He harbored immense hatred for Song Heping, but reason told him that his advisors were right.

What does losing Mosul mean?
He knows it best.

Ultimately, a mix of humiliation and helplessness overwhelmed him.

Speaking into the microphone, Bakdadi practically gritted his teeth, forcing the command out from deep in his throat:

"Notify... Zarqawi... abandon the pursuit of 'Ghost'... the entire army turn around and rush to the aid of Mosul at top speed to rendezvous with Eddie... tell them that if... if Mosul falls, they... don't need to come back!"

Upon receiving the order, Bakdadi seemed to have all his strength drained away, and slumped down in a daze.

Amid the gunfire in Iligo, Eddie, having received his orders, breathed a sigh of relief and plopped down in the command vehicle seat, sweat dripping from his forehead.

The Pentagon, National Military Command Center (NMCC).

Similar to the war-torn northwest of Iligo, the atmosphere here is equally heavy and suffocating.

The huge curved main screen is divided into multiple images.

At the very center are high-definition real-time images transmitted via the KH-13 "Keyhole" reconnaissance satellite and the RQ-4 "Global Hawk" drone.

The image clearly shows that the large point of light representing the 1515 armed forces is now splitting into two parts.

One group of lights was slowly creeping along Highway 7 to Mosul, with small flashes of light appearing intermittently, indicating firefights and explosions; another group of lights, which had been deep in Cyria, was clearly turning back towards the Iligor border.

Meanwhile, the isolated cursor, specially marked as the "Ghost" squad, had safely crossed the border and entered the northwestern controlled area of ​​Iligo, and was moving towards Persia at a steady pace.

"What the hell is going on?!"

National Security Advisor Brennan could no longer contain his anger and slammed his fist hard on the gleaming solid wood control panel, making a dull thud.

His face was ashen. He pointed at the retreating dots on the screen, his gaze sweeping across the conference room like a hawk's before finally fixing on Simon.

“Simon! I need an explanation! A reasonable explanation! What did you promise me before? You said that once Bakhdadi took the money, he would be like a loyal hound, killing ‘Ghost’ for us! And now? The hound has run home!”

In an instant, all the senior generals and civilian intelligence officers in the conference room, dressed in various military uniforms, focused their attention on Simon.

Among those gazes were doubts, indifference, schadenfreude, and apathy.

Simon felt a fine layer of cold sweat instantly seep out of his back.

He was equally shocked by the formidable fighting power displayed by the "Liberation Force" and Jiang Feng's ingenious use of the "besieging Wei to rescue Zhao" tactic.

Was that Song Heping's doing?

This guy……

So cunning!

But he also knew that any moment of panic could be fatal.

"Cough-cough-"

He coughed twice, using this action to quickly gather his thoughts, and his face returned to its usual calm.

"Mr. Brennan."

Simon's voice carried clearly through the microphone throughout the conference room.

"I fully complied with your instructions and reached a clear agreement with Bakhdadi through a completely deniable third-party channel. The $2500 million deposit has been paid into an anonymous wallet he designated, which underwent at least five coin mixing operations, via untraceable cryptocurrency. Bakhdadi himself also swore through an intermediary, in the name of his faith, that he would eliminate Song Heping at all costs."

He abruptly changed the subject, meeting Brennan's almost spitting fire in his eyes: "But gentlemen, we've all seen the current situation. Song Heping, or rather, the 'Liberation Forces' and Abuyu Brigade he remotely commands, have adopted the most direct and effective method—attacking Mosul and then deploying blocking forces along the way. This is the 'besieging Wei to rescue Zhao' tactic that the Chinese are most adept at, and the 'encircling the point to attack the reinforcements' tactic that they summarized during the war..."

"This forced Bakdadi to make a choice—whether to prioritize the pursuit of Song Heping or to preserve the strategic core area upon which he depends for survival and rule. The result is obvious. This precisely confirms a point I repeatedly emphasized in my risk assessment report—engaging in high-value transactions with an extreme, unpredictable terrorist organization like 1515, whose primary concern is its own survival, inherently involves enormous variables and risks that are difficult for us to control. Mr. Advisor, if my memory hasn't deteriorated to the point of Alzheimer's, I remember reminding you before you made your decision, didn't I?"

Brennan's facial muscles froze.

That's right.

Simon had indeed warned of the risks involved.

He did not approve of the plan at the time.

I ordered him to do it.

Seeing Brennan remain silent, Simon paused briefly before continuing, "Unfortunately, my risk assessment and cautious advice at the time were not given enough attention or adopted. If we had had a more comprehensive backup plan, or if we had had lower expectations of Bakdadi's 'reputation,' perhaps..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone present understood his subtext: You went your own way, underestimated Song Heping, and overestimated Bakdadi. Now that there's a problem, you can't blame it all on me.

Brennan, the security advisor, turned from pale to red, and then from red to purple.

He certainly understood the meaning behind Simon's words.

This made him feel that his authority had been challenged and that he had lost face.

He slammed his fist on the table, interrupting Simon: "I don't care about this damn risk assessment! I only want results! He took the money, so he has to do the job! That's basic 'business ethics'! Even if he's a terrorist! Immediately! Right now! Contact your middleman. I want Bakdadi to give me an explanation personally! Otherwise, he won't get a single penny of the remaining twenty-five million! And I'll let him know the price of messing with the United States of America!"

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

　　
　
(End of this chapter)