Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 119 Fierce Battle (Part 4)

Major Tariq left after receiving his orders, just as the piercing air raid siren sounded in the headquarters.

The communications soldier reported: "A group of fighter jets has been spotted to the southwest, about 35 kilometers away!"

Upon hearing this, Ibrahim said, "Am I just imagining things? Zion's airstrikes against us have not only increased in number, but also in frequency."

"This means we have become their primary target. It seems that Masr and Surria can no longer hold them back."

Lu Lin said, "However, as long as our air defense positions are still in place, they can forget about gaining air superiority."

Zion Air Force continued to employ its usual low-altitude penetration tactics, with Mirage fighters flying close to the ground to avoid radar detection, only climbing and locking onto targets in the last 40 kilometers.

Each fighter jet carries two anti-radiation missiles (ARMs), which are launched immediately upon detecting radar signals, while simultaneously releasing chaff and noise jamming to evade tracking.

These ARM missiles can indeed attack air defense positions by following the radar beam, but Lu Lin had already prepared a countermeasure for the air defense brigade, namely the "on-off" tactic.

In short, it involves turning on each radar in turn and rapidly hopping frequencies to cause the ARM's seeker to lose target, ultimately resulting in either crashing or missing its target.

After all, early anti-radiation missile technology was not yet mature, and ARM relied more on information asymmetry to wreak havoc on the Middle Eastern battlefield.

Once you figure out the tricks of the trade, the threat is much smaller.

Sure enough, the Zion aircraft group ran into trouble before even getting close to the airspace over Canam.

Through the eagle's vision, Lu Lin clearly saw two Mirage IIIs crashing down, trailing black smoke. After hastily launching their anti-radiation missiles, the remaining fighter jets immediately swooped down and withdrew.

This time the air defense response was much faster than the last, and the enemy aircraft didn't even manage to enter Canam's airspace.

Several staff officers looked at the contrail in the sky and whispered among themselves:

"If it's always this level, then there's not much to worry about."

"Don't worry, the major general has already withdrawn most of the air defense forces to the east bank of the Euphrates River. Now the Zionians can only break through from the front."

When the major general was mentioned, the group of men all looked at Amir, who was leaning back in his chair in a daze. For some reason, they felt inexplicably at ease whenever he was sitting there.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Fahd finally caught up with the armored forces' logistics echelon, which was signaling to him with flags.

The other party held up a green flag and flashed it at him with the white lights on the roof of their car.

This is asking him if he is an ally.

"As expected, radio communications were cut off."

Fortunately, Fahd was trained and could read flag signals, but when he looked for the same green flag on the vehicle, he broke out in a cold sweat.

Holy crap, there isn't one!

He remembered that he had come from the direction of the enemy's attack, and if he were killed on the spot by friendly forces, it would be a huge mess!

After searching for a long time, he finally found only a blue banner made by a textile factory in the city.

With the idea of ​​trying anything as a last resort, Fahad stopped the car, hung the blue flag on the roof, and then turned on the hazard lights.

Unexpectedly, the other side used a confirmation flag.

Fahd quickly drove closer and saw a sergeant approaching.

“Headquarters, I’m here to deliver important intelligence.” Fahd asked directly, “Where are your main forces?”

"Uh," the sergeant said, noticing the second lieutenant's rank on his shoulder. "Colonel Bandar has ordered the pursuit to continue and to annihilate the remaining enemy forces."

Fahd's blood pressure spiked instantly: "The Sikkim armored forces are approaching from the west! The major general and the civilians in the city are in great danger! What's the fastest way to contact them now?"

Upon hearing the news, the sergeant quickly calculated: "The brigade headquarters is at the very back. We can drive after them! We can use our lights to signal them as we chase them!"

Seeing the sky gradually darkening, Fahad nodded: "Let's go!"

Bandar was leading his troops in an attack from his command vehicle, with wrecked Zion armored vehicles and fleeing soldiers everywhere along the way.

Just as he was about to catch up with the enemy artillery division, he heard a signal to retreat from behind.

"Could it be that the major general's side has given out first?" Bandar had been chasing relentlessly, but he kept a close eye on the situation behind him.

At this point, he didn't think too much and directly used flag signals to order his troops to stop their attack.

"retreat!"

He decisively issued the order.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side was the Kurdish artillery division.

Seeing no hope of breaking out, Battalion Commander Malik began to order his soldiers to destroy weapons and equipment.

"Captain, the evacuation vehicles are ready. Let's go!" a soldier with a face covered in gunpowder reported.

"Clean up the weapons first!" Battalion Commander Malik gritted his teeth. "At least we can't let Shuangzhi capture them!"

Looking at the artillery equipment he had personally brought out, Malik felt as if his heart was being torn apart.

The Kurds went from having nothing to now having their own artillery division; only these veterans truly understand the hardships they endured.

But as the last 152mm shell detonated, sending the D-20 flying, he suddenly noticed that the tanks opposite him were retreating.

"Battalion Commander... it seems to be Shuangzhi's unit." The soldier stared in disbelief.

All the retreating soldiers were stunned.

Malik stared at the artillery positions engulfed in flames, then slammed his hat to the ground: "Damn it!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

At the 210th Division headquarters in Zion, Lieutenant General Ladan stood on the hillside of the valley, gazing at the blocking positions amidst the continuous artillery fire.

“This must be Amir’s elite troops,” he remarked. “It’s rare to see a unit with such a tenacious fighting spirit.”

“But the difference in size is undeniable. Judging from the enemy’s size, they probably only have one battalion,” the adjutant added. “They’re using themselves as brake pads; they’ll only wear them down more and more.”

Lieutenant General Laden thought for a moment: "Send the 188th Armored Brigade to push over and give them a quick death. We must also give sufficient respect to such a conscious opponent."

The 188th Armored Brigade was Zion's elite unit, having defeated the Surya Armored Group with fewer troops and was posthumously awarded the title "Barak".

The adjutant immediately went to relay the order, while Lieutenant General Laden looked eastward toward Ghanam and couldn't help but wonder what kind of general this Amir was.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Major Diego knew that the Third Armored Battalion had reached its end.

"Major, we also have anti-tank rockets!"

Tamim held an RPG in his arms, his face filled with a resolute expression.

The recruit who was with him had already been killed; Major Diego remembered his name was Antara. The two were always inseparable.

"How much is left?"

Tamim glanced around the remaining staff headquarters: "Anyway, we have enough for everyone!"

Hearing this news made Major Diego feel a little relieved.

He looked around at the remaining members of the staff and made a decision.

"Brothers, let us offer our final prayer."

Moonlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating the faces of everyone in the trenches. Major Diego's gaze swept across each face as he spoke:

"O God, witness that we stand here, undefeated, unyielding. If we are destined to perish today, let our blood become the fire of the earth."

They were nameless warriors who bought time for the main force; the night wind blew, scattering the last cloud.

Only the occasional sound of bolts being pulled could be heard on the position.

　I'm so stuck I'm practically delirious. I'll leave it at that for now; not having any drafts is so painful.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)