Chapter 2206 - 885: Husky? Their Fate!

May 28, 1998, Ankara, Turkish Presidential Palace.

Suleyman Demirel had been waiting in this office for three days.

Three days ago, when the news that tanks on the streets of Damascus had turned back to their barracks reached Ankara, he was discussing the expansion plan of the Northern Syria "Safe Zone" with the Minister of Defense.

The news reported that Assad was not dead, not overthrown, not fled, but stood at the gate of the Presidential Palace counting aloud to the soldiers ten times, and the 4th Armored Division obediently laid down their arms.

He pushed the planning document regarding the Safe Zone aside.

"This Assad, hesitates when he should step down, suddenly softens when he should be tough, leaving the whole world guessing what he wants to do." he said to the Minister of Defense, taking a drag on his cigarette, "Since he's indecisive, we'll make the decision for him."

Minister of Defense Akar stood in front of him, holding a freshly delivered intelligence report.

In Northern Syria, the Syrian National Army, supported by Turkey, is assembling, at least two brigades, equipped with armored vehicles, drones, and artillery provided by Turkey. Their target is not the Kurdish armed forces, but Damascus.

"Mr. President, the Syrian National Army is ready. They say, with just one signal, they can push down from the north, all the way to Homs."

Suleyman Demirel stood up and walked to the wall-sized map of the Middle East.

In Northern Syria, Turkey has already controlled Afrin, Jarabulus, and Bab, forming a narrow strip from the Mediterranean to the Euphrates River.

But Assad still sits in Damascus, still wears that old military uniform from 1973, still stands at the gate of the Presidential Palace counting aloud to soldiers. He is still living, still acting as President, and there are still people holding up his photos. Turkey cannot tolerate a pro-Iran, pro-Russia regime continuing to exist in the south.

"Tell the Syrian National Army," he turned, looking at Akar, "Operation codename 'Spring Shield.' Target—overthrow the Assad regime. Damascus."

Akar's fingers paused. "Mr. President, that's—"

"I know. Assad won't step down, we'll help him step down, he won't leave, we'll send him away. He won't die, we'll make him die."

He returned to his desk, sat down, picked up the Safe Zone planning document, turned to the last page, and signed it.

"Notify the Foreign Ministry, at ten tomorrow morning, hold a press conference. Announce Turkey's recognition of the Syrian opposition 'National Alliance' as the only legitimate representative of Syria. Announce Turkey will take all necessary measures to protect the Syrian people from the oppression of the Assad regime. Announce—"

He looked up, gazing at Akar.

"Announce Turkish troops will enter Syria to carry out 'humanitarian intervention.'"

May 29, 1998, ten in the morning, Ankara, Turkish Foreign Ministry press conference hall.

Akar stood behind the podium, in front of him were the long guns and short cannons of dozens of media outlets. The flashlights lit up like stars, the shutter sounds were as dense as machine-gun fire.

He picked up the statement and read:

"The Turkish Republic Government, in the strongest terms, condemns the Assad regime for committing crimes against humanity against the Syrian people. Over the past thirty years, the Assad regime has killed more than half a million Syrian civilians, displacing over 12 million people. The Syrian people can no longer endure the oppression of this regime."

He turned to the second page.

"Therefore, the Turkish Republic Government declares: First, from now on, Turkey recognizes the Syrian opposition 'National Alliance' as the only legitimate representative of the Syrian people. Second, Turkey will take all necessary measures, including military measures, to protect the Syrian people from the oppression of the Assad regime. Third, Turkish troops will enter Northern Syria this afternoon to carry out 'humanitarian intervention' operations. The goal of the operation—overthrow the Assad regime, establish a free, democratic, unified Syria."

He put down the statement, gazing at the cameras.

"Turkey is not an invader. Turkey is a liberator."

Less than an hour after the press conference ended, the world was in an uproar.

CNN, BBC, Al Jazeera, TASS, Xinhua—all media outlets were rolling out the same news: Turkey dispatched troops to Syria, aiming to overthrow the Assad regime.

Damascus, Presidential Palace.

Assad sat behind his desk, in front of him lay a freshly delivered intelligence report. Turkish troops had already crossed the border at three checkpoints, and at least two brigades of the Syrian National Army were advancing towards Aleppo, followed closely by Turkish regular army, including tanks, armored vehicles, drones, and at least one battalion of special forces.

The Minister of Defense stood before him, his face pale.

"Mr. President, the Turks have crossed the border. The Syrian National Army has already taken several villages east of Afrin, advancing towards Aleppo. Turkish Air Force F-16s are patrolling over Northern Syria, our air defense system—our air defense system dare not fire."

Assad raised his head. "Dare not fire? Why?"

"Because—because that's Turkey. NATO. If we shoot down their planes, NATO will join the war. If NATO joins, we're finished."

Assad stood up and walked to the window. Outside, the protesters were still there, holding photos, chanting Assad's name. But the sound was quieter than yesterday. Not because they were afraid, but because they were listening to the radio, watching TV, hearing the news that the Turks had arrived.