Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 158 Small Tea Party

West bank of the Hashim River, Northdon position.

The vanguard has already established a solid defensive perimeter here, and the main force subsequently began to move forward from the east bank.

The smoke in the sky had not completely dissipated, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of sulfur and burnt steel. Lu Lin's military boots stepped on the ruins full of shell craters and debris. Because the river embankment was a raised high ground, as far as he looked, he seemed to see the vast Arabian land on the west bank beckoning to him.

A surge of pride rose in his chest. Looking at the great river behind him, he instinctively wanted to recite a poem to express his feelings.

"Looking eastward to Jieshi Mountain, I gaze upon the vast sea; how calm and tranquil the waters, how lofty the mountains and islands stand!"

He got stuck. What happened next?

"The Zhongshan Mountains are shrouded in mist and rain, a million soldiers cross the great river... uh, what happens after they cross the river?"

Lu Lin scratched his head, realizing that he had long since returned his literary skills to his Chinese teacher, and could only shut his mouth in embarrassment, putting the idea of ​​being literary out of his mind.

"Lieutenant General, everything has been checked."

Fahd jogged over: "While the equipment used by the Zionians hasn't seen any significant upgrades compared to the Yom Kippur War, their coordination and reaction speed are much faster than in the last war."

“That’s because we’re getting close to their heartland.” Lu Lin picked up a piece of armor that had been blown away and wiped off the black ash with his finger. “Next, we’re not facing the same rapid armored divisions we had back in Ghanam, but a war machine with a complete logistical support system! It’s like a tanker truck that can make five or six round trips a day from Tel Aviv to here!”

Ibrahim, who was standing nearby, also came over: "Modern warfare is all about logistical capabilities. If you can't destroy the enemy's core military targets in the first instance, then it's a matter of whose logistics break down first."

Lu Lin threw the broken pieces on the ground and dusted off his hands: "Pass on my orders."

Fahd took out paper and pen to make notes.

"Order Bandar to lead the 1st Armored Division and the 'Ghost' Division (composed of captured 210 equipment, disguised as Zion forces) northward, straight to the Yarmouk River Bridge! I want him to capture it at all costs, to pave the way for subsequent troops to reach the Golan Heights!"

The Yarmouk River, a tributary of the Hashim River, is the northern gateway to the Golan Heights and is strategically located, guarded by the Central Army of Zion.

"Second, notify the 4th Arab Armored Mixed Division and the 10th Al-Iraq Mechanized Infantry Division to immediately advance, consolidate and expand our landing zone, clear out the enemy within the defensive perimeter, build a defense in depth, and prepare to deal with the enemy's counterattack!"

"Finally, I hereby inform the entire army and the rear command." Lu Lin paused, "We have achieved the first phase of our operational objectives. The Hashim River defense line, meticulously constructed by the Zionians, has been breached by our soldiers! Victory belongs to the Arabs!"

Fahd chuckled, “Should we add, ‘Under your leadership’?”

Ibrahim glared at him: "You actually have to ask me that?"

"Just say it's about all the soldiers," Lu Lin cautioned, "Don't exaggerate!"

Fahd shrank back: "Understood!"

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.

Shuangzhi, Riyadh, New Royal Palace.

The royal family and ministers, led by King Shams, are negotiating with Henry Richardson, a diplomat from the United States, regarding the ownership of Aramco.

Since drilling its first "well of wealth" in Shuangzhi in 1358 AH (1938 in official history), this massive multinational oil company has acted like a giant pipeline, continuously transporting the "black gold" beneath Shuangzhi's earth to the West.

To this day, Aramco's annual output still accounts for more than 90% of Shuangzhi's total revenue.

However, with the rise of global nationalism and the growing prominence of the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) on the international stage, the royal family, led by Shams, decided to gradually nationalize Aramco's shares.

Of course, they do not intend to use harsh measures to nationalize foreign companies like Persia or Leviathan.

After all, the United States is Shuangzhi's most important ally at this stage. The other party has the technology for oil exploration and extraction, as well as sales channels, so Shuangzhi is prepared to pay some price.

As long as principles are not violated, everything is negotiable.

The meeting took place in this peaceful and friendly atmosphere, yet with underlying calculations.

Henry Richardson smiled at King Shams and Prince Muhammad, saying, “Your Majesty, the United States has always been Shuangzhi’s most steadfast friend and guarantor of security, and we fully understand and value your nation’s demands. However, as you know, we operate under a free market economy, and companies’ willingness to cooperate largely depends on commercial considerations. If you can demonstrate significantly more attractive terms for cooperation, we will be more likely to push for consensus among private companies like Mobil.”

Shuangzhi had already planned for this, but just as the Chancellor of the Exchequer was about to speak, one of Richardson's assistants hurriedly walked in and whispered a few words in his ear.

"Excuse me, everyone, I have to take this call. You know how it is, I have to answer it."

Henry maintained his smile, apologized to King Shams and the others, and then hurriedly left.

King Shams and Prince Muhammad exchanged a glance, initially neither paying much attention. Two minutes later, Henry Richardson reappeared in the drawing room, extending his hand to King Shams and apologizing, "Your Majesty, please forgive my absence. Some urgent matters have arisen at home, requiring my return. Today's talks have been very fruitful, but I suggest we temporarily suspend them and continue our discussions another day."

Prince Mohammed noticed a hint of absent-mindedness and urgency in the other person's tone.

What exactly happened in the United States?
King Shams rose and shook the diplomat's hand. "Of course, Mr. Richardson, we fully understand the importance of national affairs. Please convey my greetings to your President. Shuangzhi's doors are always open to friends."

Henry Richardson's face showed a hint of unease when the word "president" was mentioned.

The subsequent consultations between the two sides were unexpectedly interrupted due to unforeseen circumstances.

The United States diplomats immediately set off with their teams back to Washington, leaving behind a group of somewhat bewildered royal ministers.

One of them whispered, "Could it be that we did something rude just now?"

“What might be going on inside the United States?” Prince Mohammed suggested to his brother, “Let our embassy in New York investigate. Hopefully, it won’t affect the acquisition of Aramco.”

Just then, a court attendant almost ran in and loudly reported to King Shams: "Your Majesty! A great victory at the front! His Highness Prince Amir has successfully crossed the Hashim River and established a solid beachhead! Our army is pursuing the fleeing enemy!"

"Alas!!"

The slight gloom that had just arisen due to the unusual departure of the United States representative was instantly dispelled by this tremendous good news.

King Shams was immediately delighted and asked with great interest, "Good! My good nephew! Did he catch any high-ranking officials this time? Forget about brigadier generals, he must have been at least a major general, right? That brigade commander who was paraded through the streets last time, I thought he was quite good!"

"Uh..." The messenger officer didn't know how to answer for a moment, so he said, "Your Majesty, the situation at the front is still developing, and the specific details of the captures are not yet clear... but given His Highness's style, he must have achieved some gains."

Prince Mohammed glanced at the messenger officer but remained silent.

The king clicked his tongue slightly with regret. He still felt a little unsatisfied with the two victory parades held in Riyadh the previous time, which had greatly boosted the prestige of the country.

But regardless, victory is victory. He shouted, "Immediately announce the victory to the entire nation! No, to all our Arab brother nations! We must let everyone know that Shuangzhi's army is reclaiming lost territory for them! The eagle of victory will survey the land of the Levant!"

Prince Muhammad bowed slightly: "Congratulations, Your Majesty."

The other princes and ministers also bowed and said, "Congratulations, Your Majesty!"

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.

Riyadh, Kasher Estate.

Amir's mother, Musta, sat under the carved arcade, pouring a cup of floral tea for her distinguished guest who had come from afar. The air was filled with the rich aroma of desserts and roses.

"thanks Mom."

Yehena bowed slightly as she accepted the gilded porcelain cup, her fingertips gently supporting the bottom of the cup with an elegant posture.

"You're so kind, it's your first time here." Musta added a dessert to Yehena's plate with a gentle smile: "Try it, this is Amir's favorite tea."

"Really?" Yehena picked up her cup and took a small sip. "He drinks coffee more often these days."

The two women's eyes met in the air, but their smiles remained unchanged.

Sheila, who had been sitting quietly to the side, suddenly tilted her head and stared directly at Yehena's chest: "So, this is the type of girl my brother likes?"

Yehena was slightly taken aback.

The conversation quickly turned to news of the victory at the front, and Musta couldn't help but sigh, "He's not a child anymore; in the blink of an eye, he's become an Arab general."

Her tone was filled with the pride of being a mother.

Yehena smiled and nodded: "Yes, but I'm even happier that he finally knows better how to protect himself."

Musta was somewhat surprised to hear this, as she knew nothing about the situation on the battlefield. So she asked nervously, "Is the battlefield very dangerous? Does he need to go to the front lines so often?"

Yehena looked at Musta, her gaze gentle yet resolute: "Please forgive my bluntness, Mother. Some responsibilities are simply his destiny to bear."

“I tried to dissuade him more than once, but Amir always believed that a true leader should not be far away from the people he protects. It was only then that I gradually understood that it was his belief that made the person I admired who he is today.”

She paused briefly: "He is not only the man I chose, but also the hero chosen by the Arab world."

(End of this chapter)