Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 216 The storm is coming
The private talks that followed the meeting were even more complicated than the formal ones.

Secret cooperation or deepening of relations between countries are all conducted in private, since many things can never be discussed openly.

But this time, Lu Lin felt something distinctly different, carrying with it a sense of "uncertainty".

After meeting with several members of the Arab League, his conversation with Joseph of Lirvia confirmed the possibility that Lu Lin had suspected.

“Ant has recently been secretly contacting almost all Arab countries.”

Joseph lowered his voice, "They provided military equipment and economic aid, and they also approached us privately."

“As you know, Ant Group profited handsomely from the last oil embargo we spearheaded, so they don’t want to see a united Arab alliance emerge. Coupled with Masr’s current alignment with the United States, Ant Group certainly wants to regain its influence in the Middle East.”

Lu Lin leaned back slightly, shifting to a more relaxed posture: "But it sounds like you're not very interested in Ant's proposal?"

Joseph's brows furrowed with contempt and disdain: "I saw through them long ago. Whether it's Ant or the United States, their involvement in the Middle East is nothing more than self-interest. These major powers don't care about us Arabs at all! They'd rather we remain in chaos so they can profit from our oil!"

He stared at Lu Lin, his tone becoming more serious than ever before: "If you ask me, brother, our only way out is to unite and build a completely new Arab world! Only in this way can we completely break the blockade and exploitation of us by the world's major powers!"

Lu Lin remained noncommittal. He knew that Joseph, in his youth, greatly admired Masr's "Pan-Arabism" and, during his rule, had always hoped to achieve the unification of countries.

Among these efforts, he attempted to merge with countries such as Masr, Algeria, the Maghreb, and Nubia, hoping to establish a unified and powerful "Federation of Arab Republics." (The reason Shuangzhi is not mentioned is because Shuangzhi is a monarchy.)
But unsurprisingly, all of these attempts failed.

The closest to success was probably Masr, but after the Yom Kippur War, Masr signed a peace treaty with Zion, which Joseph viewed as a betrayal of the Arab states, and the grand merger ultimately ended abruptly.

"To truly break free from the control of major powers, the key lies not in simply banding together for mutual support," Lu Lin said slowly. "We need to achieve economic and technological independence, reduce our dependence on oil, combine diplomatic balance with ideological innovation, and, more importantly—we need a highly coordinated long-term strategy among nations..."

He laughed helplessly halfway through his sentence.

These goals are increasingly difficult, and the single goal of "high-level cooperation among countries" reminded him of the unpleasant meeting he had just had with Cozoñe.

This was merely the establishment of a "united front between the Arabs and Zion," but as soon as they gained a slight advantage, some immediately chose to set up their own independent faction in order to share the spoils and glory of the war.

In this era, uniting a distrustful and short-sighted mob into a cohesive whole was more difficult than Qin Shi Huang's unification of the six kingdoms.

"Let's focus on winning the battle at hand, and think about other things later."

Joseph patted Lu Lin on the shoulder: "We're still young."

Lu Lin raised an eyebrow: "In Shuangzhi, touching the body of the king or prince without authorization is a capital offense."

“But in Lirvia,” Joseph laughed heartily, “that means ‘we’re brothers.’” He then changed the subject, “So, when are you going to keep your promise?”

"what?"

"Of course, it's that phrase, 'See you in Tel Aviv.'"

Lu Lin replied, "Soon. We just need to wait patiently before the storm arrives."

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.

Zion, Tel Aviv.

In a small, stuffy rented apartment in the southern part of the city, the only window was covered with a thick layer of grease, filtering the streetlights outside into a blurry, murky halo.

The air was thick with the smells of rusty metal and cheap food. Mahmoud threw his blue work cap, which bore the words "Port-27" on it, onto the dented wooden table with a dull thud.

His wife, Sarah, turned away from the stove, her face filled with worry.

"What happened?"

She pushed a bowl of potato porridge, almost devoid of oil, in front of him and asked softly.

Mahmoud took the spoon with his strong arms, but instead of eating, he sighed: "The government officially announced today that they will forcibly requisition large tracts of farmland in Galilee, the land we have cultivated for generations. Everyone will be driven out, without exception!"

Sarah covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes filled with disbelief: "Why? Why would they do this? That's the land where the best olives grow!"

A look of disdain crossed Mahmoud's face: "What else could it be for? To help us grow more crops? No! They want to bulldoze our fields and orchards, fence them off with barbed wire, and turn them into minefields and anti-tank ditches! They're determined to fight the Allied forces and don't care at all about the lives of the Arabs on that land!"

“God…” Sarah murmured, her body trembling slightly.

The Arabs Mahmoud referred to were not Arabs in the broad sense, but rather Arafat people who held Zion citizenship.

Twenty-three years ago, the nation called Zion was established on Arafat's territory. However, this nation was not entirely inhabited by Zionists. Over a million Arabs—the vast majority of whom identified with their Arafat identity—became new citizens of this nation overnight and were granted Zionist citizenship.

After more than two decades of transformation, these Zion-born Arafat people, along with their descendants, now make up nearly 40% of the country's total population, forming a large yet almost invisible group within the social structure.

They became the lowest-paid workers in the country, toiling away in the bustling factories of Tel Aviv, the roaring ports of Haifa, and construction sites across the country, performing the most arduous, dirty, and dangerous jobs.

“When I finished work just now, Shard told me,”

Mahmoud whispered, “The Arab Land Defense Committee (Note 1) is mobilizing everyone, demanding that all Arab workers in Tel Aviv, Haifa, and Nazareth hold a general strike the day after tomorrow, take to the streets to protest, and show those Zionists that we will not be slaughtered like docile sheep!”

“Mahamud,” Sarah called her husband’s name softly, her voice pleading.

Mahmoud shook his head. "Don't worry about this. The Tel Aviv government won't ignore us; they wouldn't dare! Unless those politicians sitting in their offices don't care if their belts turn into ropes!"

Aside from core sectors like military and hydropower, almost all the factories in Zion are staffed by Arab workers, who, like oil, are the lifeblood of the country's industry.

Just then, a rhythmic knocking sound came from outside the door—two short knocks followed by one long one. This was their agreed-upon signal.

Immediately afterwards, a deliberately lowered voice pierced through the thin door panel: "Mahamud! Mahmoud! Open the door!"

It's Shard who's here.

Mahmoud stood up, walked over to Sarah, gently kissed her cold forehead, stroked her cheek with his rough hands, and softly comforted her, "Don't worry, I'll be careful."

"You must come back safely." Sarah gripped his arm tightly, her eyes already brimming with tears.

Mahmoud did not respond further. He resolutely turned around, and the door closed gently behind him, isolating his warm little home and plunging him completely into the unknown, turbulent night outside.

On the same night, in countless dimly lit, narrow streets and alleys filled with the same atmosphere, hundreds of similar doors were knocked on one after another.

Hundreds of Arafat workers left their homes and headed toward several fixed, secret meeting points in the city.

-

"According to confirmed information, Amir has returned to the Quneitra front-line command post in the Golan Heights."

Mossad Chief Yitzhak Khofi stood before his massive desk, delivering his report in his signature, emotionless voice. Prime Minister Hilbert looked up from a pile of documents, rubbing his temples. "How many times this is this this month? The second or the third?"

"Damn it, couldn't you guys think of a way to shoot him down while he was on the plane?"

Yitzhak Khofi's lips twitched almost imperceptibly; he assumed it was just the Prime Minister venting his frustrations due to lack of sleep.

"I heard that Amir has been granted the title of 'Angel Gabriel' in Riyadh, which has a great impact on the Arabs under his jurisdiction."

Chief of Staff Lazars chimed in, "Jerusalem has just experienced a riot, which has been suppressed by the army. However, some Arabs in our country have also been infected by this sentiment and are starting to stir."

When this was mentioned, Director Hofi continued, "Reliable intelligence indicates that those Arabs from 68 are secretly plotting to hold large-scale demonstrations across the country in the near future to protest our land acquisition and militarization actions in Galilee."

"The Arabs of '68" is a derogatory term used within Zion to refer to Arabs who acquired Zionian citizenship when the state was founded in 1368 AH, in order to distinguish them from the Arabs who were forced to acquire Zionian citizenship during the Six-Day War. (The latter are referred to as "The Arabs of '87.")
"What do they know?!"

Hilbert's tone suddenly turned cold, as if frozen. "These ungrateful wretches! We are waging a sacred war of national defense! They should learn to be grateful, grateful to who gave them jobs and bread, who provided them with warm coal in the cold winter and the relatively stable life they have now!"

Chief F. Hofi asked expressionlessly, "So, should we make the arrests ahead of schedule?"

"Of course! Do you need to ask me about something like this?!" Hilbert's tone suddenly rose, his face flushed. "If we can arrest them, we should arrest them, and focus on cracking down on them! If we can 'secretly execute' their core leaders as a warning to others, that's not out of the question!"

But before he could finish speaking, he suddenly seemed to freeze, then his gaze returned to focus, a smile appeared on his face, and his voice returned to its calm tone. He patted the Mossad director on the shoulder: "This task is now entirely in your hands, Hofi."

"Yes." Director Huo Fei nodded in acceptance.

"However, our main focus at present should be on defending against the main forces of the Arab coalition to the south and east."

Hilbert's brow furrowed, his fingers tapping the table. "We must find a way to solve this endless border threat once and for all..."

Chief of the General Staff Lazars frowned. He had heard the General mention this matter several times, and it had almost become a source of anxiety for the General.

After the fall of the Golan Heights, Zion not only faces the looming threat of the Arab allies to the north, but also the problem of water shortage.

To this end, Hilbert even mobilized architectural engineers and military designers from across the country to create a defensive line similar to the "Bar-Lev" defenses of yesteryear, one that would reassure the entire nation.

Just then, there was a knock on the office door, and then the Minister of Engineering, Elizer Tove, walked in carrying a huge roll of blueprints.

"Your Excellency Prime Minister, I have a brilliant idea that can forever keep the Arab ground threat out of our sacred territory!"

Lazars' eyelid twitched.

Minister Tove then unfolded the blueprints in his hand, presenting everyone with an extremely magnificent and complex diagram of the defensive line.

"I call it 'Kirubb,' which represents a wall of fire and steel!" Minister Tov's eyes gleamed as he began to boast, "Kirubb is not comparable to the simple sand fortifications of the Bar-Lev Line! First of all, its main body is a complex fortified belt constructed along the edge of the minefields already laid in the Galilee region, equipped with the most advanced detection and automatic weapon systems!"

He pointed to the details on the blueprints: "Secondly, we have laid a crisscrossing system of fuel pipelines underground along the front line, with their nozzles hidden under camouflaged fortifications and terrain. If enemy tank formations attempt to break through, we can instantly activate the system, turning the front line stretching for tens of kilometers into a burning inferno!"

This borrows the idea of ​​burning rivers along the Bar-Lev Line, but the scale and application are completely different!

“What’s even more ingenious,” he lowered his voice, a hint of pride in it, “is that we can link parts of the minefield with this system. Specific explosions can not only kill, but also ignite leaked fuel, creating a secondary combustion effect! At the same time, we’ve planned launch unit sites behind the defensive line, which can provide instantaneous, saturation fire coverage to the front lines. Its functionality is comprehensive; it’s revolutionary.”

This setting clearly struck a chord with Hilbert. As he listened to Minister Tove's explanation, he leaned forward, and the gloom and anxiety on his face dissipated considerably.

After Minister Toff finally finished explaining his entire imaginative plan, Hilbert generously praised him, saying, "Well done, 'Cherub,' Elizer Toff! Your brilliant ideas are always inspiring! This is worthy of the strength and determination of our Zion!"

Seeing the Prime Minister deeply captivated by this grand but uncertainly effective plan, Chief of the General Staff Lazars promptly spoke up: "Your Excellency, this plan does sound astonishing, but the financial, material, and human resources it will consume will be astronomical. We simply do not have the extra reserves to build such massive fortifications. I believe we should at least discuss its necessity and feasibility with Commander Moda and General Yesavishin."

Hilbert's smile faded, and then turned somewhat ugly.

Zion spent tens of billions of dollars to build the Bar-Lev, almost emptying the coffers looted from neighboring countries during the Six-Day War, but it ended up being a joke.

He looked at Lazars, then at the blueprints, pondered for a moment, and finally nodded: "Hmm...you're right. This matter is indeed of great importance, and we should discuss it first."

Hilbert then turned to the Minister of Engineering, his tone much more conciliatory: "Minister Tove, your proposal is extremely creative, and I personally admire it very much! Please prepare a more detailed budget and feasibility report first, and we will organize a feasibility study as soon as possible."

"Yes, Your Excellency the Prime Minister!" Although Minister Tove did not receive immediate approval, the Prime Minister's clear commendation had already excited him greatly. He rolled up the blueprints and almost tiptoed out of the office.

Lazars breathed a sigh of relief.

However, he also complained inwardly.

Where were Moda and Yeshavishin at this time?
Shortly after Tove left, a confidential secretary rushed in and handed Hilbert an urgent report.

"Your Excellency, please take a look."

At first, he was just casually flipping through the pages, but soon his face turned ashen.

He then slammed the report onto the table with a loud bang and roared at the key staff members in the room, "Damn it! Look at this! This is our 'most loyal' General Zion! This is how they repay the trust of the country and the people!"

Lazars bent down to pick up the scattered reports, glanced at the title, and his brows furrowed again—"Summary of testimony given by Lieutenant General Yukustov, former commander of the Zion Military District in Damascus, at the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Hague."

He quickly skimmed the key sections of the report, which detailed how Yukustov, as a tainted witness, described in detail how Prime Minister Hilbert personally ordered the "purge" of occupied Damascus to deter resistance, and how he tacitly approved and even condoned the horrific massacre that took place in the Beirut refugee camp.

"...As a soldier, I obeyed orders from the highest command. Many of my actions, though born out of necessity, did violate basic war ethics...I wish to recount everything here to mitigate my guilt..."

The most striking feature in the accompanying news photos is the clear, brand-like six-pointed star-shaped scar on Yukustov's forehead.

Lazars looked at the scar and thought to himself: What the hell?

"This traitor who grovels before the enemy!"

Hilbert's roar nearly shattered the office windows; his withered hand slammed heavily on the desk, causing the shameful report to tremble as well.

The room fell into dead silence, broken only by his shouts and curses.

After a moment, once his flushed face had calmed down slightly, his confidential secretary, who had been standing at his sides, cautiously stepped forward and whispered, "Your Excellency, would you choose to go to The Hague in person for the confrontation? Or, at least issue an emergency statement at the UN General Assembly to clarify our position?"

Hilbert hesitated. Under the framework of the International Criminal Court, if the top leader of the defendant country refuses to attend or fails to appear in court, although he will not be convicted in absentia, it will be interpreted by the international community as tacit approval.

Zion's national economy is currently highly dependent on the service and financial industries, which are closely linked to the Western world. If the prime minister or his core cabinet members are formally convicted by the court, it could lead to a collective panic-driven withdrawal of Western capital, causing the already precarious economy to collapse.

Hilbert took a deep breath, but he knew that at this moment, he could not easily leave Tel Aviv.

He wearily rubbed his furrowed brow and finally said in a deep voice, "Go and invite General Yeshe Wissen and His Majesty Chief Rabia Abraham over. I have something to tell them."

(End of this chapter)