"I've received two pieces of bad news..."
Hassan took out his phone and handed it to Song Heping.
"This was just sent over from Damascus..."
Song Heping's brow furrowed as he took the phone, his gaze landing on the screen.
On the screen, that pixelated, constantly shaking video clip played silently — on the sandy ground, a mercenary's mostly white figure was violently pressed to kneel, a black hood covering the entire head, while next to them, armed men raised a distinctive long blade...
The subsequent content was extremely gruesome.
The mercenary's head was almost cut off with brutal strokes...
And the video's backdrop was the QZ Temple's silhouette in Ashara Town, whose spire had been blasted to ruins.
"It's said that Ashara Town was breached, and 1515's armed forces are clearing out captured Wake Na mercenaries..."
Hassan's tone was heavy.
"Suka!!"
Utekin suddenly smashed his fist onto the ammo box, sending wood splinters flying, yellow bullets tumbling all over the floor.
"Damn it!"
His neck veins bulged like worms, his eyes fixed intensely on the blood-stained knife on the screen.
"Did you confirm their identity?" Song Heping's voice was exceptionally calm, like a frozen river, eyes locked deep into Hassan's gaze.
"Resolution is too low, can't make out the face."
Hassan shook his head, carrying the exhaustion of being crushed by reality.
"But judging by the outfit, it seems to be Wake Na's mercenaries..."
Utekin stood in the corner shadow, his face iron-gray, lips pressed into a rigid line.
"I won't give up without seeing the cook's body." Song Heping handed the phone back to Hassan and asked, "What's the second piece of bad news?"
"Deir Ezzor..."
Hassan took a deep breath, as if swallowing shards of glass: "Orders from above to abandon support. The 104th Brigade...General Issam refused to withdraw his troops, insisting on defending Deir Ezzor with his life..."
His throat shifted, his voice suddenly rose, filled with uncontrollable grief and anger.
"They ordered me to stay here, guard this damned port, and play doorman for the Russians!"
"Issam?"
Song Heping's brow tightened.
He's heard this name before; it's said that the 104th Brigade is led by him, one of the most combat-effective units of the government army.
You can see Hassan's near-reverent admiration for him.
Making a general like him abandon the rescue of besieged comrades and the city is simply incomprehensible.
It seems the Cilia Government's current situation is really not good; probably planning to tighten the defensive lines and retreat to the coastal areas to hold.
But...
"Yes, General Issam." Hassan breathed heavily, his chest heaving dramatically, "He can't die for nothing! And Deir Ezzor can't just be lost like this! If that place falls into the hands of those 1515 beasts, the whole east..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone understood what it meant — Deir Ezzor is a critical town in the east; once breached, the entire east and center would be defenseless, enabling the 1515 forces to march straight in, completely opening up a poison snake corridor straight to Damascus.
The situation has deteriorated rapidly, like an avalanche.
Hassan was pinned down in Latakia, the fresh reinforcements to Deir Ezzor ordered to stay put, Ashara Town possibly fallen, the cook's fate uncertain...
Beside Song Heping, only Jiang Feng and Utekin remained, three people, 370 kilometers filled with mines, ambush sites, and various factions' armed conflict zones, targeting straight at the central heavily guarded core of the 1515 forces — this was no longer a mission, it was a suicide invitation.
The site was dead silent, only the occasional encrypted radio wave's hissing, like the Grim Reaper whispering.
Outside the window, beneath the azure sky of Latakia port, seagulls cried mournfully.
Song Heping's gaze swept over Jiang Feng, then over Utekin's stormy blue eyes, finally fixing on Hassan's face, etched with unwillingness and pain.
He had no time to be angry, nor the right to despair.
But he had a premonition — that the cook guy wasn't dead!
"Hassan." Song Heping's voice broke the silence, clear as ice spikes tapping, "Give me men, give me vehicles. One squad, three BPM-97 IFVs."
"What?!"
Hassan thought he misheard and suddenly looked up, his bloodshot eyes wide open.
He quickly understood.
"Song! Are you crazy? One squad? Three vehicles? Crossing half of Cilia?! Do you know what that's like, parading in an armored coffin? Freedom Army, Kurd people, 1515...and countless mines and IEDs! I wouldn't even be sure with a platoon!"
He pointed at the map with the route from Latakia winding towards Deir Ezzor, almost entirely covered in red representing enemy territory, his fingers trembling.
"I know."
Song Heping calmly met his shocked and angry gaze: "But this is the only way to reach Ashara Town within 36 hours. Wheeled armored vehicles are fast, and BMP-97 firepower is decent. Disguised as a retreating small government army mobile unit, they're small targets and might just slip through."
Hassan opened his mouth to argue, but seeing Song Heping's eyes filled with undeniable resolve, like tempered steel, held all his words in his throat.