Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 178 Planting the Flying Flag on the Golan Heights

"The bloodshed in Daman was an outright atrocity!"

General Stans, from the United States, was dressed in a military uniform and gleaming boots, his face grim and stern.

"This is a serious failure of your internal governance. Shuangzhi must immediately and unconditionally cease all acts of violence and provocation against United States personnel and facilities! Severely punish all perpetrators! Furthermore, you must provide full compensation to the United States for personnel casualties and property losses!"

"We sincerely apologize for this conflict."

Before Aziz could finish speaking, General Stans interrupted him by raising his hand: "Remember, until Shuangzhi handles this matter properly and gives us a satisfactory answer, all military supplies transported to the front lines via our ports and military bases will be suspended indefinitely."

All aid will remain on our warships and in our ports until we confirm the safety of the transport routes.

Aziz frowned: "Your Excellency, these are two unrelated matters! I believe this violates the spirit of your country's contracts!"

"All talk about contractual spirit is bullshit."

General Stans said coldly, leaning forward, his imposing figure exuding a sense of intimidation: "I am a general, responsible for the soldiers under my command. I don't care about your country's bullshit partisan struggles. In my opinion—let them all go to hell!"

When Prince Mohammed and Aziz returned to the administrative hall in the new palace, all the staff looked up, as if they saw their pillar of support in their eyes.

However, a series of bad news awaited them.

“Your Highness,” a young secretary hurriedly stepped forward to report, “demonstrations led by scholars have broken out in many religious schools across the country, with students demanding the expulsion of all United States education advisors!”

Another staff member then reported: "Staff at Riyadh National Hospital are also protesting, refusing to use medical equipment provided by the United States; they have even smashed our imported CT scanner and ultrasound equipment."

The Interior Minister added gravely, "Those high-tech companies from the United States that we painstakingly brought in were also looted by radicals, and many computers and equipment were smashed..."

“What’s worse,” he continued, “is that the church has completely sided with the conservatives—although they were already biased towards conservatives before, this time they have openly and explicitly expressed their support.”

Just as Prince Mohammed was about to respond, an interior official hurriedly knocked on the door.

The news he brought was enough to make everyone stop what they were doing.

"Your Highness! His Majesty has awakened!!"

These words immediately put everyone at ease.

Upon hearing this, Prince Muhammad instructed Aziz, "Make a list of everything that needs to be done, and we'll deal with it when I return."

Aziz nodded in agreement, and then the old prince hurried toward the king's bedroom.

“To be honest, I don’t think this was directly done by Mursed,” the administrative secretary whispered to Aziz. As a colleague who frequently reported to the prince, Aziz was quite familiar with this colleague.

Aziz keenly sensed the hidden meaning in the other person's words and then asked, "Have you discovered anything?"

The secretary nodded solemnly: "While you and the Prince were out calming down the United States people, the Special Emergency Response Team located a high-powered radio in Dammam by tracking shortwave radios. Although the radio had been deliberately damaged, the technical department confirmed that it was a model commonly used by Mossad."

Since the outbreak of the Six-Day War two years ago, Middle Eastern countries have established countermeasures forces to prevent Zion's infiltration.

The most important task of the special emergency response force is to track down Mossad agents throughout the country.

Mossad?

"We can only say that we cannot rule out this possibility, and the probability is very high."

Aziz's expression immediately turned serious.

If that's the case, then the situation is far more serious.

These Zion-trained agents are often more destructive than frontline troops, and can cause incalculable losses to the Zion.

More importantly, at this point they were unsure whether the conservatives were aware of the situation.

If Prince Mursad has indeed formed some degree of 'cooperation' or 'understanding' with the other party.
Aziz felt a heavy weight on his heart; now even the church was involved.

"I will report this situation to His Highness when the Prince returns."

He said to the minister, his brows furrowed, "Let's see how much we can salvage the situation first."

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.

Golan Heights, Black Gate Mountain position.

A full week has passed since the Shuangzhi forces captured Quneitra.

The remaining Zion Central Army retreated to higher ground, relying on fortifications built years earlier and the steep terrain to put up a stubborn resistance. The complex terrain limited the advance of armored forces, and the battle reached a stalemate for a time.

Corporal Aaron curled up deeper into the muddy trench, trying to escape the pervasive damp cold.

Summer in the Golan Heights is more unbearable than winter—at least the ground is frozen in winter.

His boots were already filled with cold mud, making a "crunching" sound with every step, and his toes had long since lost all feeling.

Due to a lack of fuel supplies, nine out of ten of his comrades suffered from severe frostbite or trench foot, which caused their feet to swell, turn white, and even ulcerate.

At the same time, they were extremely short of food. Everyone barely survived on a pitiful ration and rainwater and dew, and sometimes they couldn't even eat a meal a day.

The thin, biting air eroded everyone's will. The bone-chilling cold and endless dampness constantly wore down their dwindling fighting spirit.

What devastated them even more was the relentless shelling.

The enemy's shells seemed to have eyes, falling continuously for 24 hours a day, accurately targeting every suspected command post, communication point, or firing position. Whenever they were drowsy from extreme exhaustion, the shelling would always arrive precisely on time.

The mental torment is far more unbearable than a direct charge.

Countless times, the thought of surrender flashed through Corporal Aaron's mind, but his loyalty to Zion and the instilled passion within him kept him going time and time again.

He doesn't know when it started, but he always has a moment of daze, as if the flickering flames of the burning fortifications in the distance are the warm and cozy campfire in the fireplace at home.

Then one day, melodious singing came from the foot of the mountain.

",,,"

The piece is "Song of Hope," a melody that once filled them with faith and hope, but now it is filled with heartbreaking homesickness and longing.

Including Corporal Aaron, the familiar melody made every comrade in the trench unable to help but hum along.

After a while, the song's volume decreased, and the sound from the loudspeaker pierced through the mist:

"Soldiers of Zion, lay down your weapons and come out! The war is over! Here are clean towels, hot soup, and warm, dry clothes! We guarantee your safety! Return to the world of the living!"

A young private couldn't help but crane his neck to look down.

Upon hearing this, the platoon leader immediately shouted sternly, "Don't listen to their nonsense! That's Amir's trick. His specialty is to break the enemy's will and then eliminate us!"
"Hold your beliefs tight! It's a trap! Whoever shows their face will die!"

Aaron picked up the binoculars and looked down the mountain.

He saw the Zionites cooking something, with wisps of smoke rising from the distance. He also saw a group of Zion soldiers in military uniforms eating around the large pots, wolfing down their food.

He was in a daze at that moment, and those distant, warm scenes flashed into his mind again.

"This is all fake, a hoax set up by the enemy," he said, gripping the binoculars tightly.

However, at that moment, a soldier suddenly crawled out of a trench a few hundred meters ahead.

On this desolate high ground, the figure of a living person instantly attracted everyone's attention.

Corporal Aaron's eyes widened.

He watched as the soldier threw down his gun, then raised his hands and stumbled down the mountain.

His platoon leader roared angrily behind him: "Isaiah! Come back! I order you to come back! You coward! Traitor!"

The sound echoed through the valley, filled with despair and anger.

The soldier named Isaiah did not turn around; instead, he quickened his pace.

"Bang! Bang!"

The platoon leader fired a shot behind him, but missed; the bullet hit the muddy ground, splashing up a cloud of mud and water.

The soldier was so frightened that he stumbled and almost scrambled into the Shuangzhi position. Several Shuangzhi soldiers immediately stepped forward. The soldier named Isaiah was trembling with fear, but instead of humiliation or gunshots, he received a bowl of steaming soup and a piece of bread.

“Eat,” the Shuangzhi soldier said in broken Hebrew.

"Thank you, thank you," Isaiah said, his hands trembling and his words incoherent.

The soldier glanced at him but didn't say anything more. He simply asked him to sit down next to the steaming pot.

Isaiah did as he was told.

Having already deserted, he no longer cared about these things.

Immediately afterwards, under the watchful eyes of all his comrades on the mountain, he ate and drank heartily without any apparent harm.

"Aaron, what did you see?" the platoon leader asked from behind.

Aaron lowered his binoculars, turned to look at his comrades with their varied expressions, and did not answer.

But everyone actually understood that the soldier was still alive.

At this moment, everyone knew that staying here would only lead to their death.

Lacking ammunition and cut off from supplies, they either froze or starved to death.

Continuing to hold this position is of no value except to prove one's loyalty to the winds blowing across the plains of Galilee.

The platoon leader pursed his lips: "Alright. If any of you want to leave, I won't stop you, and I promise I won't shoot him in the back. I mean what I say."

After saying that, he threw the gun in his hand out of the trench first.

At that moment, the high wall in Aaron's heart, built from loyalty, faith, and fear, collapsed with a crash.

He was homesick.

He missed his mother's bread, the laughter he shared with his lover under the sun, and all the ordinary yet beautiful things before the war.

He imitated Isaiah, swaying as he stood up, picked up his rifle, and raised it high above his head.

His comrades made the same choice, one by one struggling out of the trenches and heading down the mountain.

No bullets came from behind them along the way.

Aaron looked around and was surprised to find that many trenches were filled with figures just like his.

Soldiers from Zion were emerging from their positions or bunkers, weapons raised or hands held high. At first, there were a dozen, then dozens, then hundreds.
The road wasn't as long as I had imagined.

Soon after, Aaron also had a bowl of hot soup in his hand.

The warmth of the food traveled through the cold porcelain bowl to his almost frozen hands, and the steam blurred his vision.

"Eat." The voice of the Shuangzhi soldier came from beside him, seemingly only knowing this one Hebrew phrase.

He brought the bowl close to his lips, and the steam from the broth, its vibrant aroma, made him realize that food could smell so fresh.

Aaron began to wolf down his food. At that moment, he thought of his lost comrades, the suffering he had endured, and the hope that he would have the chance to return to his family.

For the first time, he felt how wonderful it was to be alive.

I wish to climb the hill.
Lying on the green fields,

I will sing before dawn.

And let us remember the peace of our homeland.

Warm tears mixed with the mud on his face rolled down.

While he was eating, he suddenly burst into tears.

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.

UN journalist Armani Press jogged over with his assistant, but Fahd stopped them and prepared to conduct a body search.

"No need, they are friends I invited," Lu Lin said.

Press extended his hand to him, a broad smile on his face: "I hope I'm not too late, Major General. Now it should be Lieutenant General, Your Highness Amir."

"You've come at just the right time, not too late."

Lu Lin and Press clasped hands tightly: "We're preparing to climb to the highest peak of the Golan Heights and announce to the world that the Arab coalition has completely reclaimed this land taken by the Zionians. By the way, how's the situation on the United States side?"

"After President Milhouse announced his resignation, Vice President Ford announced that he would take over as president on the same day."

Press reporter looked serious: "But President Ford just took office and announced that he was granting President Milhouse a full and unconditional pardon, which aroused strong public anger and suspicion. Many people believe that this was a behind-the-scenes deal—that Milhouse exchanged his resignation for the pardon."

This led to a sharp drop in President Ford's public approval ratings, and due to the Republican Party's crushing defeat, the Democrats gained an overwhelming majority in both the House and Senate—an unprecedented situation in the history of the United States. This left President Ford facing immense obstacles to governing, compounded by extremely unfavorable public opinion.

In other words, the United States is struggling to even manage its own mess.

Not to mention managing the Middle East.

Of course, it cannot be ruled out that President Ford, in an attempt to divert public attention, shifted the focus of the conflict to the war between the Arabs and Zion.

However, Lu Lin estimated that the power transition in the United States would take at least another two or three months.

The group then drove to the front lines and saw Zion's prisoners eating around a steaming pot. Press reporter immediately shouted, "Stop the car!"

He then quickly got out of the car and went to take pictures.

Lu Lin and the others followed.

With a few clicks, Press captured the scene in a photograph. After taking the picture, he praised Lu Lin highly: "Sir, you have done an excellent job! These photos not only demonstrate your tolerance and wisdom, but also show the world that the Arab coalition is not killing for revenge, but fighting for justice and peace! This will surely win widespread praise from the international community for the allied forces!"

Lu Lin: "Actually, this is just the simplest psychological warfare tactic. My troops have suffered heavy losses after a series of fierce battles. This is to take Black Gate Mountain at the lowest possible cost."

Upon hearing this, Press's admiration deepened: "That's precisely why it's so remarkable. Your restraint and wisdom in the face of overwhelming superiority are something not all victors can do. This is not only a military victory, but also a moral one."

Bandar, standing nearby, couldn't help but grin and say, "The reporters from the United States know how to talk."

Press's previous reports on Lu Lin have always been objective and fair, and have been widely recognized by the officers and soldiers of Shuangzhi.

"General, when will we reach the summit?" Press asked.

"Leave now."

The convoy climbed the steep mountain road, where soldiers from Shuangzhi, who had already taken control of the area, stood at attention and saluted. They were clearing out the last remaining sporadic resistance.

"General!" A lieutenant stepped forward and saluted.

Lu Lin nodded in response.

The group got off the car, and Fahd handed them a flag that had been prepared beforehand. The blue flag fluttered in the cloudless sky.

Lu Lin took the flag and walked towards the last short stretch of road.

Behind him, all the officers automatically lined up in two rows, with Bandar on the right and Tamiyah on the left, followed by Ibrahim.

He climbed to the top of the mountain.

Before us stands the flag planted by the Zionians, with a line of Hebrew inscription at the base of the flagpole:
""

("The glory of Zion will never fade")
Fahd immediately stepped forward and ripped the Zion flag off.

"Their glory is in the past," Lu Lin's voice was calm yet clear, "and our land has finally returned."

He stepped forward and planted the blue flag, symbolizing Shuangzhi and the Arab League, deep into the ground.

Press reporter presses shutter—

At that moment, history was frozen in time.

(End of this chapter)