Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 190 Brings Liberation to Damascus (Part Two)

Quneitra, Allied Command.

Lu Lin surveyed Damascus from an eagle's-eye view, taking in the overall situation while directing heavy artillery to strike enemy assembly points and highlighted targets.

He issued the command via radio: "Target area D7, 16 kilometers away, one test shot."

"The test shell was fired."

After a brief silence, the faint sound of an explosion could be heard in the distance.

From the eagle's perspective, Lu Lin saw the howitzer land on a tower not far from the target (which happened to be an observation post). The ancient building broke in the middle, and the Zion soldiers below scattered and fled.

"Adjust parameters: azimuth angle increased by 0-03, range decreased by 200. Three rapid fires from the entire platoon, fire!"

The roar of 203mm heavy artillery could be faintly heard from the front lines, and plumes of smoke rose in the distance.

This time the shot was very accurate. Lu Lin saw the red highlighted mark where the shell landed, and immediately a large area was gone.

At the same time, a mark that emitted a "golden light" also disappeared.

"Target area E4, two high-explosive rounds, fire to eliminate targets," Lu Lin continued, issuing the order.

He doesn't even act anymore.

In such a large-scale urban battlefield, no one would notice that he was directing howitzers to carry out precision strikes comparable to "integrated information and firepower," and any marked areas with dense enemy forces would be quickly covered by artillery fire.

These precision strikes are rapidly dismantling Zion's defensive nodes.

"Unfortunately, there haven't been any big fish yet."

Lu Lin felt a little regretful, because the eagle's perspective couldn't see through objects; it could only mark enemy targets that were directly exposed.

"If Yukustov dares to show his face, this battle will be much easier."

At this moment, Ibrahim approached with a battle report: "Frontline report: Our armored units encountered enemy anti-tank teams sniping in narrow streets, and the forward reconnaissance infantry also encountered enemy flamethrower tanks. The enemy's firepower is very strong, and their advance is hindered."

Lu Lin pondered. Narrow streets were not conducive to tanks taking advantage of their range, while flamethrower tanks were the infantry's nightmare.

His gaze suddenly shifted to the UN Special Envoy Elanderson beside him: "Mr. Special Envoy, how many helicopters did you bring this time?"

Elanderson paused for a moment before replying, "There are some, Your Highness Amir, but these helicopters are for rescue and emergency medical services. What do you plan to do with them if they're not equipped with weapons?"

To transport relief supplies, the United States dispatched more than a dozen CH-47 Chinook transport helicopters, each capable of carrying thirty to forty soldiers or an equivalent weight of supplies.

“I requisitioned these helicopters in my capacity as a UN-authorized commander.”

Lu Lin spoke seriously, then explained, "We need to quickly seize the rooftop platforms of key buildings to establish firing positions. This is the fastest way to suppress enemy forces on the streets and support the ground advance."

Elanderson nodded: "Yes, no problem, as long as it's for victory, General."

Lu Lin turned to Ibrahim: "Contact the Surya army in the north and tell them to intensify their attack and expand the front of attack. They must tie down more Zion defenders to create opportunities for our infiltration forces."

Fahad, holding an earpiece in one hand, looked up and said, "Lieutenant General, the popular uprising in Damascus is gradually expanding, but they lack weapons and equipment, and even more so, they lack organization."

Lu Lin pondered for a moment: "Have the guerrillas in the city guide the people to safe places, such as bunkers or sewers. Remember to avoid direct combat with the Zion army, and do not let the fleeing citizens block the road. Tell them that living to see victory is more valuable than pointless sacrifice."

“Understood!” Fahd immediately turned around and relayed the order.

Finally, Lu Lin surveyed the command post and said decisively, "Relay this to all units: speed is key. We must complete the encirclement and division of the city before nightfall and absolutely cannot give the enemy a chance to reorganize their defenses!"

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.

In a semi-open square west of Damascus, Colonel Benjamin stood before the most elite soldiers of the General Staff Reconnaissance Corps.

His adjutant followed behind him, carrying a tray filled with gleaming medals.

"Some people say we are hyenas, executioners."

Colonel Benjamin paced slowly, his gaze sweeping over the rows of young, resolute faces standing ramrod straight. His voice echoed across the square: "But I say, behind Zion's glorious victories, there must always be those who do the unseen work. To purge traitors, to eradicate the cancer, to protect the purity of the nation with hands stained with filth—that is our mission!" He walked to the front of the ranks, pinning medals to the chests of the soldiers one by one, then handing over each soldier's name and calling out their achievements.

The soldier whose name was called looked radiant and proudly puffed out his chest.

"You were sent here to carry out the most important mission because you are the best soldiers!"

"Brothers," he returned to the front of the column, his voice rising abruptly, "the Arabs think they've won? No! They're just lucky! Damascus will be their grave! Every inch of this land will be stained with their blood!"

"For Zion!" The soldiers' shouts shook the heavens and the earth.

Benjamin, witnessing this scene, felt a surge of fanaticism in his eyes. A sickly flush rose on his pale face as he raised his arms and shouted, "Today, we may die, but our deaths will bring tomorrow's sun to Zion! Our names will live on forever!"

A shell exploded at the edge of the square, and the deafening explosion instantly swallowed up all the shouts.

Benjamin was thrown backward by the blast wave, and amidst the ringing in his ears, he could only hear his adjutant yelling, "Colonel! Get out of the way!"

On the square, the soldiers of the General Staff reconnaissance team were also stunned by the sudden shelling, and the frenzied atmosphere from before vanished.

Benjamin had just been pulled a few steps by his adjutant when the second shell accurately struck the center of the formation.

Benjamin was slammed against the wall by the shockwave, feeling as if his back had been hit by a sledgehammer, and everything went black.

He struggled to lift his head, only to be met with a bloody and gruesome scene of hell.

The place that was just a moment ago filled with elite soldiers is now just a huge shell crater.

Limbs and torsos were scattered everywhere, and the ground was splattered with blood and bits of flesh.

A silver, deformed medal landed in front of him with a tinkling sound.

The square fell into a deathly silence, with only the faint sound of distant artillery fire and the crackling of burning corpses nearby.

Benjamin stared blankly at the horrific scene, his lips trembling uncontrollably, his facial muscles twitching uncontrollably with extreme anger.

These elite reconnaissance teams of the General Staff were reduced to dust in a mysterious shelling before they could deliver a fatal blow to the Arabs.

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.

The Damascus Underground Command: This underground bunker was originally built during the French Revolution as a secret meeting place for religious elders. It was later converted into a military underground building by Hosni and is now the Zion headquarters in Damascus.

A tense atmosphere permeated the air beneath the heavy concrete dome, where Lieutenant General Kustov stared intently at the city's defense map, the battle situation within the city changing every moment.

Just then, the door to the command center was suddenly kicked open.

Major Etan, responsible for guarding the city's defenses, burst in, covered in gunpowder smoke and with several tears in his uniform: "Lieutenant General! Shuangzhi's vanguard has already broken through three of our defenses, and they are heading straight for us along the main road. I suspect the enemy may be planning a decapitation strike!"

Upon hearing this, the battalion commander looked at Lieutenant General Kustov with a grave expression and said, "General, we must move immediately! Only by ensuring your safety can we continue fighting!"

After saying that, the battalion commander ordered his men to prepare a vehicle.

“No, I’m not going anywhere.” Lieutenant General Kustov’s voice echoed in the bunker.

"Lieutenant General!" Major Ethan exclaimed in astonishment.

"This is the center of Damascus, surrounded by our soldiers. Where else can I run to?"

Lieutenant General Kustov shook his head: "Order all units to tell them that I am standing here and not going anywhere, and to do everything in my power to resist the Arab attack."

He sat in his command chair, his hands folded on his knees: "This city was captured by our own hands. Now that the Arabs are retaliating, as the supreme commander, I will naturally not run away. Moreover, the dignity of the soldiers of Zion does not allow me to do so."

Major Eitan's Adam's apple bobbed, then he stood at attention and saluted: "I will relay your words to the various units."

"Go."

Lieutenant General Kustov took a finely crafted pistol and a box of ammunition from the drawer, muttering:
"I'll wait here until Amir comes to see me in person."

(End of this chapter)