Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1287 The Wrath of the Green Zone
Baghdad, Green Zone, U.S. Joint Tactical Command Center.

Colonel Kurt slammed the satellite phone onto the table. The expensive encryption device bounced a few times on the oak surface before finally sliding onto the carpet, a spiderweb-like crack appearing on the screen.

"That damn yellow-skinned monkey!"

He growled in a low voice, his face flushed red, and the veins on his neck bulged.

The staff officers and civilian personnel in the command center instinctively lowered their voices, burying themselves in the documents or screens in front of them, afraid of becoming the target of the colonel's anger. Only Kurt's adjutant, Major Alan Miller, steeled himself and stepped forward to pick up the satellite phone from the ground.

"Sir, did Song refuse?" Miller asked cautiously.

"Rejected? Ha!"

Kurt sneered and walked out from behind his desk, pacing around the command center like a wild beast trapped in a cage.

"He not only rejected the proposal to attack Titrick, but also talked to me about 'heavy losses' and 'the need for rest'—who does he think he is?"

Major Miller listened in silence.

He knew about the complicated relationship between Colonel Kurt and that Eastman—both collaborators and potential rivals.

The U.S. military needs Song Heping’s “Musician” defense and “Liberation Forces” militia to contain the 1515 armed group in the north, but does not want them to grow too strong to escape control.

"He's just stalling!"

Kurt whirled around, pointing to the massive electronic warfare map on the wall. “Look! Baiji, Mosul, parts of Kirkuk—two months! In just two months, he’s controlled nearly a third of northern Iligo! Now he has oil wells, refineries, and transportation hubs! What’s next? To establish a nation?”

Major Miller looked at the map.

Indeed, the blue area representing Song Heping's controlled territory has expanded rapidly in recent weeks and has now become a continuous expanse.

In contrast, the green zone representing US and government forces, and the red zone representing the 1515 armed group, both appear to be compressed.

"Sir, Song Heping's troops have just fought two tough battles in Kiri and Baiji, and they definitely need to rest."

Miller attempted an objective analysis, stating, "And what he said makes some sense. We didn't provide him with any air support during the pursuit of Baiji, which was his excuse for manipulating us—"

"That's right! But no matter what, that's just an excuse!"

Kurt interrupted him, “Our problem is that an uncontrolled military contractor is establishing a state within a state in northern Iligo! And look at this—”

He walked to the control panel and quickly pulled up a set of satellite images.

The footage clearly shows the scene outside the Baiji oil refinery: dozens of trucks are loading and unloading goods, and judging from the paint and model of the vehicles, they are clearly not supply convoys from the US military or the Iligo government.

"Persian."

Kote said through gritted teeth, "It's all equipment from the Quds Force, transported directly from the border to Baiji. Song Heping not only refused to attack the 1515 militants, but he's also making deals with our regional enemies!"

Major Miller examined the image carefully, his expression growing serious.

As an intelligence officer, he certainly knew what the Persian Revolutionary Guard's involvement in Iligor affairs meant—it went beyond the scope of the war on terror and entered the realm of geopolitical maneuvering.

"Assemble the staff team."

Kurt made a decision: "One hour later, in the conference room. We need to discuss one issue: whether, and how, to take over Titrick independently, bypassing Song Heping."

He stared at the city marker surrounded by red on the map, a resolute glint in his eyes.

"If that yellow-skinned monkey wants to play a balancing game, I'll show him what absolute power is."

An hour later, the confidential conference room next to the command center was filled with smoke.

Twelve officers, ranging from major to colonel, sat around a rectangular conference table, covering various departments including intelligence, operations, logistics, and air support.

Kurt sat at the head of the table, the ashtray in front of him already filled with three cigarette butts. "Situation briefing."

Kurt nodded to the head of intelligence, signaling him to begin.

A bespectacled lieutenant colonel stood up, turned on his laser pointer, and pointed it at the Titrick satellite image on the projection screen:

"According to the latest intelligence, there are about 18,000 IS militants in Titrick, a decrease of about 40 percent from their peak. Their commander, Az, was captured in the Battle of Kiri, and the command structure is currently in disarray with low morale."

The red dot of the laser pointer moves onto the city defense map:

"The defensive fortifications are mainly concentrated in the south and east of the city, because those areas face government-controlled zones. The north and west are relatively weak—which is also the direction of attack that Song Heping previously suggested."

"Equipment status?" an operations staff officer asked.

"There are about two hundred light vehicles, mainly armed pickup trucks. The heavy weapons include more than sixty mortars, about ten modified suicide armored vehicles, and an unknown number of Russian-made anti-tank missiles—possibly from smuggling routes from the Siberian direction. There are no organized armored units, only a small number of air defense systems, all of which are outdated Soviet-made equipment."

Kote nodded, turning to the air support department: "What can air support provide if we launch an attack?"

Colonel Morris, who was in charge of air operations, was a bald, middle-aged man who spoke crisply and decisively: "Two squadrons of F-16C/Ds, one squadron of A-10Cs, plus AC-130 gunships and armed drones on standby. If the government forces can tie down the main force of 1515 in the direction of Ozam, we can guarantee 24-hour uninterrupted air patrols and close air support over Titrick."

"What about the ground troops?" Kurt asked the operations chief.

"Hurmatu currently has 1,500 mercenaries from Thunder Defense."

The operations chief pulled up another chart: "If we get Thunder Defence to bring in another 500 reserves from their bases in Kuwait and Jordan, our total strength will reach 2,000. In addition, we can coordinate with the Khord forces in Erbil to join the fight. They have indicated that if they can get more US aid, they can send 5,000 men to support the offensive."

Kurt quickly calculated: "Two thousand mercenaries, five thousand Kold'd, seven thousand ground troops. Add air support, and we'll be dealing with eighteen thousand demoralized 1515 armed forces, plus our special operations units..."

"Theoretically enough."

The operations chief cautiously added, "But the prerequisite is that the government forces can guarantee to hold back the main force of the 1515 in the direction of Ozam, preventing them from returning to reinforce Titrick. In addition, we also need to consider the issues of logistical support and the evacuation of the wounded."

“Logistics is not a problem,” the logistics director interjected. “We can use the old airport in Sulaymaniyah, which is only 120 kilometers away from Titrick. C-130 transport planes can deliver supplies directly to the front lines.”

There was a brief silence in the conference room.

The officers exchanged glances, all assessing the feasibility of the plan.

“Risk,” Kurt broke the silence. “What’s the biggest risk?”

The intelligence chief adjusted his glasses: “The biggest risk is that we may have underestimated 1515’s resolve to defend Titrick. Although they have suffered heavy losses, Titrick is their last major stronghold north of Iriego, and its fall would mean the complete collapse of their position in Iriego. They will likely fight to the death.”

“Secondly,” the operations chief added, “if we divert too much air support to the Titrick offensive, the government forces in the Ozam direction may face greater pressure. If the defenses there collapse and the main force of 1515 advances eastward, the Bakda region will face even more pressure.”

Kurt was lost in thought, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table.

After a long while, he raised his head, his eyes gleaming with a gambler's light.

“There are always risks,” he said, “but the opportunities are greater. If we take Titrick, we can cut off 1515’s connections in northern Iligo and eastern Syria, completely isolating and encircling them. At that point, no matter what tricks Song Heping plays in Baiji, the initiative will be back in our hands.”

He stood up, placed his hands on the table, and looked around at every officer present.

"Gentlemen, develop a detailed plan. Operation codename: 'Balance Beam.' All personnel and supplies must be in place within one week."

"Yes, sir!" the officers answered in unison.

Kurt nodded in satisfaction, but no one noticed the barely perceptible worry deep in his eyes.

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

　　
　
(End of this chapter)