Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 219 The War Begins (Part Two)
The Suez Canal is burning.

Countless corpses of Masar soldiers floated on the surface of the water in the Great Bitter Lake and several narrow sections of the river mouth, including Ghenana.

On the sandy shore of the canal, smoke and the stench of blood filled the air as Masr's vanguard, under the cover of artillery fire, crossed the pontoon bridge and forcibly captured the beachhead.

This was a victory built on blood and flesh. Relying on their indomitable spirit and overwhelming numerical superiority, Masr broke through Zion's first line of defense at a staggering cost in casualties.

Due to the Camp David Accords (peace treaty) previously signed between Zion and Masr, coupled with the large-scale redeployment of main forces to the east to confront the main Arab allied forces, the Suez Canal defense line is no longer as strong as before.

However, behind the beachhead, multiple deep defensive lines were deployed according to the terrain, and Zion's 166th Division launched an extremely stubborn counterattack.

Lieutenant General Salmon, holding binoculars, stood in the forward command post on the west bank of the canal.

Eled Salmon served as commander-in-chief of the Second Army Group of Masr during the Yom Kippur War, but was dismissed due to the defeat. He was reinstated when Masr was short of available personnel and now serves as commander of the Masr Army Group.

"The engineering corps was ordered to erect three more heavy pontoon bridges within two hours."

Lieutenant General Salmon's voice was filled with steely calm and an unquestionable tone: "Air defense forces will cross the river first, establishing an air defense perimeter of 15 kilometers on the east bank to cover subsequent echelons. Armored forces will cross the river in the original order and complete their assembly and preparation behind the beachhead."

He turned to his operations staff and said, “After the entire army crosses the canal, without rest, immediately launch a tiered attack towards Arish according to Operation Plan No. 3. We must break through the second line of defense before the Zionians can react.”

The chief of staff, looking at the veteran who had been reinstated, whispered, "General, we have achieved our strategic objectives, creating a valuable opportunity for the main Allied forces. If we continue deeper, we may face a pincer attack from both Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. Given our current field strength..."

The chief of staff didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear.

Since the breakdown of relations between Masr and Ant and their subsequent shift to the United States, Masr's military-industrial complex has been in disarray.

The original unified Soviet-style equipment system has been broken. Now the troops are equipped with a mixture of Chinese, American and Soviet equipment, making logistical support extremely difficult. Their overall combat effectiveness is far from what it used to be.

Lieutenant General Salmon raised his hand to interrupt the chief of staff's analysis, "No, we must fight this battle to the very end."

He walked to the battle map and stared at the outline of the Sinai Peninsula. "Sinai is an inseparable and sacred territory of Masr. Past defeats have taught us a truth: the dignity and land we have lost can only be regained with our own blood."

Silence reigned in the command post, broken only by the general's voice echoing between bursts of gunfire:
"We want the entire Arab world to see Masr's determination. One Al-Alamies fell, but thousands upon thousands rose. Today, we not only want to reclaim our land, but also the glory that belongs to our nation!"

"Order all units," Lieutenant General Salmon said, putting on his cap and straightening his collar. "For Masr, advance!"

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.

Tel Aviv, command center.

A statement from Tamar, outlining the new prime minister's inaugural performance, was on General Yessavishin's desk, but he didn't give it a second glance.

He was fully aware of Likud's actions.

If the plan goes smoothly, we should now be at the most crucial step in impeaching Hilbert.

However, when news of the Suez Canal's fierce attack arrived, he knew that this political gamble had been a complete failure.

Faced with the threat of national extinction, the Labour Party's swing voters, and even domestic religious forces, would not hesitate to rally again under Hilbert's banner—unless they want the entire country to be crushed by the armored onslaught of the Arabs in a power vacuum.

He sits here more like he's waiting for a trial.

The clashes between protesters and police continued outside the window, but the roar of a high-powered diesel engine drowned out the chaotic noise of the crowd.

A dozen or so armored personnel carriers drove roughly into the city, followed closely by the new Merkava, which Hilbert recalled the Armaments Design Department had named the "MK2".

Their steel bodies gleamed coldly in the setting sun, and the sense of oppression they exuded far surpassed that of any armed police officer.

The target of these troops is also clear: the "Arab Land Defense Committee," which is organizing protests.

Under the overwhelming force and military pressure, the Arabs holding placards were powerless to resist. Cries and screams of terror rang out as they scattered and fled.

Tanks relentlessly rolled over roadblocks, while soldiers from the General Staff Reconnaissance Team, dressed in black combat uniforms and wearing red berets, began a violent crackdown. They arrested those who led the protests, and killed any who resisted.

An unprecedented fear gripped the hearts of every citizen of Tel Aviv.

Yeshavishin gazed at everything silently through the glass window, his face expressionless.

Until the sound of dense and orderly footsteps came from the corridor outside the door, approaching from afar and finally stopping outside the door of the command room.

Then the door was flung open, and the staff officers rose in surprise. Outside stood four rows of heavily armed, sharp-eyed soldiers from the General Staff Reconnaissance Team.

"stand at attention!"

At the colonel's command, the soldiers lined up on both sides.

Then, the old man, wearing a familiar gray suit and with a slightly hunched posture, slowly walked in.

"All go out."

Hilbert's voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.

The staff officers quickly left the scene under the "escort" of the internal affairs troops. The heavy door was closed, leaving only the Prime Minister and the General in the command room.

Hilbert walked to the military map, looked down at it, and asked, "How is the situation at the front?"

"The Arabs launched a two-pronged attack."

Yeshavishin answered calmly, as if giving a routine report: "Masr's army has crossed the Suez Canal, while the main force of the Arab allied forces led by Amir is advancing south from Quneitra and is currently engaged in battle with my Sixth and Seventh Armies on the Galilee Plain."

Hilbert paused for a moment, then muttered under his breath, "Has the situation become that serious?"

"Yes, but the situation is still under our control."

Yesavishin said, "We have built a multi-tiered, deep defense system in the Sinai Peninsula. Even if Masr seizes the beachhead, it will be difficult for him to advance further and threaten Tel Aviv."

He pointed to the area that rises in the central part of the Sinai Peninsula: "Especially here, along the line from Mitra Pass to Jidi Pass."

We have constructed a core defensive position relying on this mountain range, and all passages leading to the heart of the peninsula are under the commanding firepower of our troops from their elevated positions. The pre-positioned artillery positions and anti-armor ambush points on both sides of the pass are sufficient to inflict devastating damage on any enemy armored units attempting to pass. An armored division of the 3rd Army from the Jerusalem direction has been ordered to reinforce the pass's defenses and enhance its counter-offensive capabilities.

Hilbert slowly walked up to Yeshavishin, his gaze falling on the "Report on the Appointment of the Prime Minister".

A moment of silence fell over the command center. Hilbert picked up the report and said softly, "How I wish I hadn't seen your name in this incident."

Yeshavishin sensed the sadness in the other person's tone, as well as a hint of anger at the betrayal.

This was the first time he had so directly discerned these emotions from the prime minister's tone; in the past, the prime minister had always hidden them very well.

He didn't offer a word in his own defense, but simply met the other person's gaze and asked, "So, what do you intend to do with me?"

"Dispose of you?"

Hilbert seemed to have heard some absurd joke. Suddenly, he grabbed the performance report on the table, crumpled it into a ball in his hand, and slammed it to the ground.

"Did I promote you from a mere brigade commander to the position of commander-in-chief so that you would stab me in the back with those politicians at a crucial moment?!"

His withered fingers almost poked Yesavishin's face, spittle flying, his eyes blazing: "If it were up to my old ways, you'd be in a military prison waiting for a court-martial right now! Your family would be properly taken care of! Your men would be dealt with one by one! That's the standard procedure for dealing with traitors, my general!"

He paced slowly around Yeshavishin, his voice chilling: "Those idiots in the Likud Group think I'm a cold-blooded madman, and you're the hero who saved the country. But they're wrong. You and I are essentially no different. We both climbed up over corpses. The only difference is that I never hide the blood on my hands, while you always try to retain power while maintaining a facade of respectability."

Hilbert suddenly stopped and leaned close to Yesavishen's ear: "Do you know what the irony is? I could resign right now! After the defeat, all the blame will fall on you 'seizing power in the midst of battle' people! You will be written into history books as the culprits who caused the country's demise!"

"Then why don't you do it?" Yesavishen asked. "Because I deeply love this land, and I deeply love its people!"

Hilbert pounded the table with his fist again and again: "Yes, I admit I've done many terrible things to the Arabs, but I have a clear conscience towards the people of Zion! Not even Tamar, or those old fogies in the religion, can deny that!"

He sneered, "Those cowards in parliament dare to plot political schemes behind the scenes, but they don't dare to face the hatred of the Arabs! Do they naively think that handing over land will bring peace? Ridiculous! The Arabs don't want land, they want us to disappear from this world!"

Yesavishin did not answer.

Perhaps Hilbert is no longer the prime minister he once knew.

Despite the battles and external pressures of the past two years, as well as the medications, the old man's emotions have become detached, and he occasionally becomes somewhat neurotic.

But on this one point, he consistently agreed with the other party's view.

There will be no peace between Zion and the Arabs unless one side is completely defeated.

However, in carrying out this path, Hilbert chose a more obsessive and destructive approach.

"Tamar now wants to live in peace with the Arabs, but we tried that twenty years ago, and you and I both know that—it was absolutely impossible!"

Hilbert's anger seemed to have subsided somewhat. "Because we are outsiders, all Arabs hate us, and the whole world ignores us. But we must still live on, just as we have always done—to make all those who look down on us lower their proud heads! This is the only and necessary path for Zion!"

He stepped forward, almost face to face with Yeshavishin, and asked, word by word:

"Now, tell me, Yeshavishen—are you still the one who will help me and lead Zion forward?"

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.

Quneitra, the Arab Allied Command.

Ibrahim reported, "Our helicopter assault team successfully eliminated several air defense positions in the Galilee region, but at the cost of four helicopters being destroyed."

Lu Lin nodded and said, "It's acceptable. After paralyzing the Zion's air defense positions, we can send bombers to clear the minefield."

In modern warfare, there are basically three ways to clear minefields: First, traditional sappers clear mines, which is not only time-consuming and labor-intensive, but also inefficient; second, mechanized mine clearance, which usually uses armored vehicles equipped with various explosion-proof kits, or directly uses specialized mine clearance vehicles, but it is not very effective in complex terrain; and finally, the most efficient and fastest method is bombing mine clearance, which uses the overpressure generated by the air and shrapnel to detonate the mines. The only thing to watch out for is the enemy's anti-aircraft fire.

Therefore, his current tactic is to first use helicopters to destroy the enemy's air defense network, and then send bomber groups to bomb and clear mines.

But he had only bought twenty armed helicopters from the United States, and he lost one-fifth of them in this one encounter. It would be a lie to say he wasn't heartbroken.

Lu Lin couldn't help but ask, "How were they all shot down?"

Ibrahim: "The enemy reacted quickly, and all four helicopters were basically hit and crashed by anti-aircraft guns targeting low-altitude targets."

Lu Lin inexplicably remembered a game he had played a long time ago called "Clash of Clans," which had a troop called the Balloon, which was designed to target the enemy's air defenses and clear the way for subsequent air units.
The balloon soldiers he currently commands are worth nearly three million US dollars per unit.

The essence of war is indeed burning money.

"Your Excellency Marshal, an urgent telegram from the United States." Fahd approached, holding a satellite phone.

Lu Lin answered the phone: "This is Amir bin Mohammed."

"Your Excellency Marshal, greetings."

The voice on the other end of the phone spoke fluent Saxon: "I apologize for bothering you during the war, but please allow me to express my admiration for your military talent."

Hearing the other person's affected tone, Lu Lin frowned and asked, "Which department are you from?"

Please forgive my intrusion.

The man said, "We are a group that cares about peace in the Middle East, and we hope you can consider a temporary ceasefire and give peace a chance."

Lu Lin keenly caught the subtle clues in the other party's words: "Are you Zionians?"

"No, we are citizens of the United States, or more precisely, Zionians of the United States nationality."

This is a frontline phone line for the Arab allies.

Lu Lin wondered, had Zion already infiltrated the United States so deeply by now?

The man continued, “On behalf of Zionians from all over the world, I beg you to show mercy. As a people who suffered greatly during World War II, with six million of our compatriots killed by Prosson, we deeply understand the pain of displacement. Zion is our only home after a thousand years of wandering, and it is our spiritual refuge.”

"Get to the point," Lu Lin interrupted coldly.

"We are willing to support your great cause of unifying the Arab world."

The man laid out his terms: "We now control the financial and media resources of the United States, and can completely shape your image as a 'savior' worldwide. Believe me, this carries more weight than your domestic religious propaganda. Furthermore, we can help you establish a more solid alliance with the United States. The only condition is that you preserve the existence of Zion."

After a moment of silence, Lu Lin said, "I also have a piece of advice for you. Since you have already chosen the identity of the United States, then stop jumping out and saying that you are Zionists. Don't make trouble for yourself."

"It seems we can't reach an agreement today," the other party sighed. "But we welcome your change of mind at any time."

Lu Lin hung up the phone immediately.

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 luxury apartment on New York's Upper East Side, cigar smoke swirls beneath a crystal chandelier.

The elderly man, wearing a top hat and sporting a meticulously trimmed beard, slowly put down his cigar: "How did the talks go?"

"What else could it be? Of course, I was rejected."

The middle-aged man who answered the phone shrugged helplessly: "Young people are always so full of vigor."

"He's more than just a young man."

The old man shook his head: "The last person who could unite the Arab world under one banner was Saladin eight hundred years ago. And this Amir, who is not yet thirty years old, is already the crown prince designated by the Santiago and is even revered by the religious community as 'Jiblil'."

He paused, his voice low: "If I had to describe it, it's a rising, theocratic monster."

"But Zion cannot be lost!"

Another man dressed in traditional Zionist attire said, “You all know how important Zion is to our fellow human beings around the world. It’s not just a spiritual home, it’s our roots.”

A brief silence fell over the room. Everyone present understood the significance of this number—there were only 3.5 million Zionians in Zion itself, but overseas, the number was far greater.

Large Zion communities are concentrated in European countries such as the United Kingdom and France, while in the United States, the number of Zionites with citizenship has reached an astonishing six million, more than the number of native Zionites!

"Two thousand years of diaspora history tells us a truth."

The old man spoke slowly, "Without Zion as our shield, we would forever be rootless drifters. As long as this nation exists, Zionists around the world will not become targets of hatred."

This is precisely why they have spared no expense in their operations over the years. Through political donations and lobbying organizations, they reward politicians who support Zion, punish critics, and ensure continued support from governments worldwide. More than 40% of Zion's annual foreign exchange earnings also come from the generous donations of these overseas compatriots.

"On the front lines, we are no match for Amir. After all, we are just a group of businessmen; we have nothing but money and connections."

The middle-aged man walked to the window, looked at the Manhattan night view, and said, "But we still have ways to trip him up. I just hope that this marshal won't hold a grudge."

(End of this chapter)