“…Vehicles full of oil lined up on the horizon. This looks like a moving crude oil pipeline that entered Turkey from the IS and rebel-controlled area. They are driving to Turkey and the oil tankers will unload there, then drive back. We are discussing a commercial crude oil supply line controlled by Syrian terrorists. The oil is shipped from here, not from other places. We can see clearly in the air where these vehicles are going.”
Inside the old TV, the speech made by the Russian President at the International Security Summit was on. He said this a long time ago, but now it was a revisited subject.
Inside the half-collapsed apartment building, militants with turbans around their heads stared at the man on the screen while they tightly grasped onto the rifle in their hands. Although their eyes were filled with hatred, more fear could be seen in them.
Since last month, they had suffered consecutive losses.
In fact, from the moment Xin’s flag floated in the hand of the Statue of Freedom, many IS senior officials realized that it was all over. From that moment on, they had lost all their assistance. It was a miracle that they could rely on fervor to survive until now.
The black blood was imported into the crude oil market from Turkey, turned into banknotes covered in blood, and finally flowed into the hands of the military-industrial complex, where they were exchanged with cannons and bullets. Whenever someone doubted on the necessity of a counter-terrorism strategy, they collude with “enemies” to launch attacks on their allies or even their own countries. Members of Congress were forced to compromise with the Department of Defense’s new security budget, then those people would take a bite out of the cake. However, every bite was covered in blood; every bite was full of deception.
Both the besieged and the defenders knew that it was the end.
Eastern Syria, Al Mayadin region.
This city on the banks of the Euphrates River was once fertile and gave birth to the Mesopotamian civilization that flourished, but now the area was ravaged, destroyed, and left only starving people and countless bones that decorated the final madness of those extremists.
The black-robed assassins lurked in the gray-yellow buildings buried by wind and sand, vowed to resist to the end. The Syrian government forces had launched two rounds of offensive, but each time they suffered heavy casualties. During the last attack, they made it all the way to the river bank, but in the end, they were still forced to withdraw from the city.
The mercenaries of Celestial Trade continued their strategy of encirclement, as they surrounded the city and cut off all the channels for imported materials into the city. On the other side, Russian bombers dropped at least 20 aerial bombs into the city every day, and black smoke became a constant in the city.
People died every day.
However, death did not scare them, it just turned them more mad…
About 20 kilometers away from Al Mayadin was the Celestial Trade Operations Base. Russian bombers that carried out airstrikes landed on the runway here and returned to the direction of the Black Sea after refueling.
Located in the center of the base of operations was the command post of this mercenary force.
Since last month, officers from Celestial Trade arrived at the Syrian battlefield along with new equipment, and at the same time they had taken over the command of this force.
“The war to end all wars is over,” the deputy commander that stood in front of the holographic screen slightly narrowed his eyes, as he watched the city from the perspective of a drone, then he said slowly, “Why are they still not surrendering?”
The besiege has already lasted for a whole month, and the stubborn IS armed forces in the Al Mayadin area were on the verge of collapse.
Without the secret support of the UA military-industrial complex, the black industrial chain that transfused blood to the IS was completely cut off. This war should have ended a month ago.
“Because they died long ago, death is a relief for most of them,” the staff officer who stood next to the silent commander answered.
Just then, the curtain of the barracks was lifted, and an officer walked in.
“Report! We received an order from the General Command of New Moon Island,” the officer said after he performed a clean military salute, “The Supreme Combat Command has issued instructions, spare no one.”
“Is this what your President wants?” a man with a Middle Eastern face asked in the command room.
He was a guide sent by the Syrian government army, responsible for liaising with the mercenaries of the Celestial Trade, and also for solving some problems that could not be solved by weapons. He did not have any power to intervene in the decision-making. Although the phrase “spare no one” made his heart tremble, he couldn’t stop it.
Even if Mr. Bassal stood in front of the officer, what could he do? After the fall of the UA, Celestial Trade became the new hegemon of this planet… as long as they desired, they could establish a new hegemony at any time.
It was just Syria.
The government forces and rebels were just powerless ants in front of the orbital airborne brigade.
“Probably so.” The commander did not speak more with the Syrian guide, nodded, then looked to the staff officer, “What kind of weapon is the fastest.”
“White phosphorous munitions,” the staff officer replied, “we haven’t used them since the beginning of the war, and we have plenty of reserves.”
“It’s difficult, there are still civilians held captive in that city.” The deputy commander sighed as he glanced out the window into the sky turned yellow by the endless amount of sand.
“How many can there be?”
“Regardless, it’ll be problematic.”
The command room fell silent.
After a long time, the Syrian guide swallowed down the dry lump in his throat, then spoke in an almost pleading tone while trembling.
“Maybe there is another way. Let our people try again, tomorrow we will launch another offensive…”
No matter what, it was their city.
No matter how many innocent compatriots were left in in the city, how many imprisoned sex slaves and hostages were still not killed, as long they could try to save-
“There will always be sacrifices in war,” the commander raised his hand and interrupted the guide’s words, then said in an absolute tone. “Whether it is an innocent civilian or a brave soldier, all lives are equal. Let those who should go to hell go to hell, let those who are already in hell be free, let go of those who are still ‘alive’. You still need them to rebuild your home.”
But why use white phosphorous munitions?!
The Syrian guide still wanted to argue, but these people obviously didn’t plan to say more.
The commander waved his hand, and the two soldiers who understood the message stepped forward and politely invited him out of the command post.
When the commander looked at the angry face that disappeared behind the curtain, he sighed softly in his heart.
The so-called rhetoric was just an excuse.
Only he could understand the meaning behind the president’s phrase “spare no one”.
As a senior member of Celestial Trade, he was familiar about the background of that lady.
Why did the weapons sent to the frontline turn into white phosphorous munitions since the end of last month?
The message from above was quite clear.
And he was always aware of the intention.
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