Jiang Feng nodded, "Do you think 1515 can win? I mean, completely repel Kote's attack."
Song Heping was silent for a few seconds.
The screen switched to the simulated situation map at the "Outpost" command center—restored through electronic reconnaissance and signal analysis. Although not precise, it gave a general idea.
The blue icons were squeezed by the red, and the front line was in an unstable zigzag pattern.
"At the first stage, 1515 has a slight advantage."
Song Heping said, "They have dragged the battle into close-range combat they excel in. Moreover, they have superior numbers, and the morale... judging by the suicidal charges of those 'Flying Cavalry', is terrifyingly high."
"But Kote still has his cards."
Jiang Feng said, "Thunder Defense's mercenaries have not yet fully engaged in battle, and although the air power is currently restricted, as long as the battle line can be slightly opened up, the F-16s and Apaches can still deliver devastating blows. And although the Kurds are confused now, with 6,000 people relying on the American air support, they could still launch a counterattack..."
"So the key is what happens next."
Song Heping continued the conversation, "If 1515 can continuously exert pressure and force the Kurdish defense line to completely collapse, Kote will have no choice but to retreat, otherwise, those two thousand men from Thunder Defense would also have to be thrown in. However, if Kote can stabilize the front line, even if temporarily retreating to reorganize, wait for air power to be regrouped, and use sustained bombing to gradually wear down 1515's forces..."
He didn't finish, but the meaning was clear.
Jiang Feng suddenly asked a question, "Then... what should we do next?"
The command room was quiet for a few seconds.
Song Heping picked up his teacup, watching the tea leaves suspended in the water slowly sink.
"Strategically speaking, of course, it's more beneficial for us if 1515 wins."
His tone was as calm as water.
"But if 1515 wins too easily, preserves too much strength, it could become a problem for us in the future."
Jiang Feng reminded him.
"So," Song Heping placed down his teacup, a cold smile on his lips, "everything must be controlled at a balance, not too much or too little, just right."
He turned to Jiang Feng, "Send an encrypted message to Samir in Mosul. Tell him to 'relax appropriately' the monitoring of the southeastern corridor of Titrick. If... if in the next few days, 1515 shows signs of defeat and needs more reinforcements, let them 'naturally infiltrate' some in."
Jiang Feng raised an eyebrow, "Continue to let water flow?"
"It's not letting water flow." Song Heping corrected, "It's maintaining the battlefield balance. Kote needs a 'tough but eventually victorious' battle to prove himself, and 1515 needs a 'valiant resistance but eventual strategic retreat' battle to preserve strength and morale. As for us..."
He pointed to the city engulfed in flames on the screen.
"...we need them to continue fighting and exhausting each other, but not to the point of quickly reaching a conclusion, just as Kote once viewed us before."
Jiang Feng understood.
He took out the encrypted satellite phone and began to edit the message.
As his fingers tapped on the keyboard, he suddenly chuckled, "If Kote knew we're leisurely 'adjusting' his battlefield here, he'd probably be infuriated."
"He should be grateful." Song Heping sneered, "At least for now, we're just observers, not participants."
In the center of the screen, the smoke over Titrick grew thicker.
A new pillar of fire rose from somewhere in the city, ignited by one side or the other.
The war continued.
And in this command room far from the battlefield, two East University men sipped tea, like chess players maneuvering a board hundred of miles away.
Calm to the point of indifference.
At the same time, the "Outpost" command center.
Colonel Kote stood in front of the communication desk, attempting for the third time to contact the Joint Command Headquarters for emergency intelligence support and aerial coordination.
The duty officer on the other end of the line spoke with polite but empty phrases, repeating lines like "Your request has been recorded and will be reported as soon as possible."
He knew this meant that no substantive reinforcements or tactical guidance would be available for at least several hours.
He put down the receiver and returned to the main screen.
Significant changes had occurred on the situation map—the blue icons representing the Kurdish forces showed a noticeable depression in the southwest corner of the brick factory area.
A company-level unit had reported over half casualties and was being forced to withdraw and reorganize.
"Sir, the 'Alpha' company reports having reached 'Hunter' Heights and is establishing a defensive position."
Major James approached and reported, "'Bravo' company is expected to arrive in fifteen minutes."
Kote nodded, silent. His eyes were fixed on the constantly scrolling casualty figures in one corner of the screen.
Kurd Armed: Killed/Missing 187, Wounded in Action 341.
Thunder Defense: Killed 9, Wounded in Action 22.
Confirmed destruction of enemy vehicles: 47 (including 39 pickups, 8 trucks).
Confirmed enemy casualties: approximately 330-480 (estimated).
The exchange ratio seemed not bad, even quite good.
But Kote knew, behind these numbers lay a more severe reality: Kurdish forces' morale was declining, their organization disrupted, and command efficiency reduced.
While the enemy...