Chapter 1546 - 1256: "Jian-2" Shoulder-Fired Anti-Aircraft Missile

10:20 PM, Hulmatu Militia Command.

In stark contrast to the hellish scene at Checkpoint Four, the militia command in Hulmatu Town was brightly lit, but the atmosphere carried a strange sense of leisure.

Song Heping was leisurely sipping a cup of strong tea.

From the radio in front of him, came the clear sounds of fierce gunfire and urgent calls for help from Sanders' side.

"Song! This is Sanders from Thunder Defense! My unit is under attack by 1515's main force at Checkpoint Four! The enemy numbers exceed a battalion! The wall has been blown open, the situation is extremely critical! Request immediate ground support from your forces! Repeat, immediate support!"

Sanders' voice was slightly distorted.

Song Heping picked up the transmitter, his tone instantly becoming heavy and filled with "concern": "Captain Sanders! Received! Please hold on! I will immediately order Samir to assemble the troops for rapid support! You must hold the line!"

Putting down the transmitter, the "concerned" expression on his face instantly vanished, replaced by a cold smile.

At this moment, Samir came in, having obviously heard the earlier communication.

"Boss, should we really set off immediately?"

Song Heping glanced at him, didn't answer directly, but leisurely stood up, walked to the military map on the wall, and pointed at the position of Checkpoint Four.

"Samir, look. It's about seventeen kilometers from here. Our D-30 howitzers have a maximum range of over 20 kilometers, right?"

Samir was stunned for a moment, then understood: "Yes, Commander. Our artillery positions can easily cover the area around the checkpoint. As long as Sanders provides accurate coordinates, we can deliver artillery fire, even if the accuracy isn't high, it will be enough to disrupt the enemy's attacking formation and alleviate their pressure."

This was a very reasonable and efficient tactical suggestion.

Artillery support, undoubtedly one of the best means of relief in the current situation.

However, Song Heping slowly shook his head: "Artillery? No, Samir, you're too 'straightforward'. "

He turned around to look at Samir:

"Have you forgotten how those arrogant Americans in Baghdad threw this 'Thunder Defense' stone at our feet?"

His voice was low, yet carried an undeniable cruelty: "Now, go and assemble the troops, control the timing, after all, they are 'allies', you can't not rescue them, but also can't rescue them too quickly. As for how to do it, I don't need to teach you, right?"

"Understood! Understood!"

Samir instantly understood Song Heping's intention.

This wasn't simply leaving them to die, but a deft power game.

He wanted to use the knife of 1515 to push Thunder Defense out, while sending a crystal clear message to the US military in Baghdad and the Central Government of Iraq—

On this land in Northwest Illinois, I, Song Heping, am the true ruler. If I want you to live, you live; if I want you to die, you die.

"Well then... Assembling the troops takes time, especially at night. I'll go make arrangements, make sure everyone is...'prepared' more thoroughly, we're militia, not a regular army, it makes sense to take things slow, very normal."

"Hmm."

Hearing Samir's cooperative response, Song Heping satisfactorily sat back in his chair, picked up the cup of tea again, waved his hand saying: "Go. Remember, safety first, don't rush. Wait until the 'right time', then it's not too late to set off."

"Yes!"

Samir almost laughed out loud, turned, and walked out of the command post.

He didn't immediately run to blow the emergency gathering whistle but first leisurely lit a cigarette, and then shouted at the lazy militia sitting outside:

"First battalion, assemble! Check weapons and ammunition, prepare vehicles! Report to me when ready."

There was no hint of tension in his tone, as if he was just conducting a routine drill.

Time ticked by, second by second.

For Sanders at the checkpoint, each second seemed as long as a century.

Inside Checkpoint Four.

"Son of a bitch! Are those damned militia coming or not!"

Reks fired off a chain of bullets, struggling to reload as he cursed.

His machine gun barrel was already glowing red.

In front of the breach, the enemy bodies piled up, yet more attackers kept coming in waves.

Bullets whistled past his head, clanging against the pick-up truck's chassis.

"Hansen! Eleven o'clock direction! That machine gunner! Take him out!"

Sanders screamed hoarsely.

Bam!——

Hansen's HK417 sounded again, a distant enemy setting up an RPK light machine gun fell to the ground.

But immediately, another enemy picked up the machine gun and resumed shooting.

The pressure was growing heavier.

A section of the eastern wall, after enduring multiple RPG blasts and concentrated fire, finally collapsed with a crash.

Though not as large as the southeastern breach, it still meant another new opening appeared.

"Send two men! To the east! Seal it off!"

Sanders felt his throat almost on fire.

Manpower was stretched thin, the defense line full of holes.

"Radioman! What the hell is going on with Hulmatu?!"

Sanders roared into the radio once more, though he had little hope, the survival instinct kept grasping at any straw.

"Captain... Song says... the troops are assembling, but a night operation takes time, and... and they worry about ambushes on the road..."

The rookie's voice came with a sobbing tone and anger, "They're delaying! They don't really want to come save us!"