82: Chapter 79 The Last Thirty Days

On August 5th, Reza received core intelligence from Karimi in Baghdad.

This intelligence was not hearsay from an unknown source, but came from an old informant who had over twenty years of connections within the Iraq Ministry of Defense.

The information the informant transmitted back was extremely detailed—precise down to division designations, specific transfer dates, and even private transfer orders for certain mid-level officers.

"Saddam's attack time is September 16th," Karimi said. "It is not the September 22nd date historically announced by Baghdad. They will launch a full-scale offensive at dawn on the 16th, with the goal of capturing Abadan within 72 hours."

Reza frowned.

This intelligence had a six-day discrepancy with the historical timeline in his mind—historically, Saddam launched the attack on September 22nd, but Karimi's informant clearly indicated that the 16th was the actual operational time, and the 22nd was merely the "official start of war" announced by Baghdad to give the international community a window of psychological preparation.

This detail—Reza noted it in his mind—once again proved his long-held judgment: intelligence is not static; it needs constant verification and correction. The future script was his advantage, but it could not replace real-time intelligence work.

"Adjust the deployment immediately," Reza said. "Final inspections of all frontline positions must be completed before September 10th. Missile units are to enter the highest state of combat readiness, on 24-hour rotating standby. Additionally—" he paused, "notify Hassan that his rapid response force must conduct a live-combat simulation every day between 3:00 AM and 5:00 AM from September 10th to the 16th."

"Why between 3:00 AM and 5:00 AM?" Karimi asked.

"Because the early morning hours are when people are most tired and when mistakes are most likely to happen. If Iraq really strikes at dawn on the 16th, those hours before daybreak are the most likely time they would choose for an attack. I want Hassan's troops to be able to make a first response even during that time slot."

On August 10th, Iskandari sent some not-so-good news from the workshop.

The localization progress of the T-72 Tank production line was 15% slower than expected, mainly because the Iranian factory could not yet fully master the heat treatment process for certain critical components and needed on-site guidance from Soviet technical advisors. However, due to diplomatic turmoil during the hostage crisis, some of the Soviet advisory group had already evacuated, and the visas for the remaining few were about to expire.

"If we don't solve the heat treatment process problem, our schedule for mass-producing the T-72 Tank will be delayed by at least six months," Iskandari said over the phone. "I need you to make a decision: accept the delay, or have Fatima and me solve this problem together."

Reza was silent for two seconds, then said, "Give me twelve hours."

He hung up the phone and immediately contacted Karimi, asking him to find a way to secure visa extensions for the Soviet advisors within twenty-four hours, citing the "necessary continuation of military technical cooperation projects" as the reason. Karimi's reaction was: "That's very difficult."

"I know it's difficult," Reza said, "but if we don't resolve this, our tank mass-production schedule will be delayed by six months. You have dealt with the Soviets; you know what they want most."

Karimi understood: "I will go find Volkov."

Volkov was a key figure in Soviet arms trading and was also the Soviet lead on the T-72 deal earlier that year. Reza had dealt with him and knew that this man had one characteristic—he liked the concept of "long-term cooperation" and disliked "one-off deals." As long as he could see room for future cooperation, he was willing to be flexible on minor matters.

Twenty-four hours later, news from Volkov arrived: the visa extension issue for the Soviet advisory group was "technically resolved." The six core heat treatment experts could continue working in Iran with their visas extended for three months, on the condition that the Iranian side provide "appropriate compensation" for the diplomatic efforts the Soviet embassy had expended.

"What kind of compensation?" Reza asked.

"They want some technical data on the Persia-1 Type missile," Karimi said. "Not the core design, but non-critical parts of the propellant formula."

Reza thought for a moment and agreed.

His calculation in this deal was clear: what he was giving the Soviets was not the true core technology, but what he got in exchange was six months for the T-72 Tank production line—six months meant that by the middle of the war, Iran would be able to use domestically produced main battle tanks rather than relying entirely on imports or Soviet supplies. This difference would be decisive in a long-term war of attrition.

On August 15th, Fatima completed the first full-range test of the Persia-2 Missile.

The test was conducted deep in the desert 120 kilometers south of Ahvaz, with the target being one of three pre-set impact zones. Reza was there in person to watch, accompanied by Hassan and Farrokhzad.

The launch time was exactly 3:00 PM.

The moment Fatima stood before the control console and shouted "Launch," Reza felt the ground beneath his feet vibrate slightly—not an earthquake, but a resonance produced when metal and fuel released all their energy in an instant.

The missile ascended, trailing fire, streaking across the clear August sky, and disappearing toward the horizon.

Then came the wait.

Everyone was staring at the timers in their hands; no one spoke, and the air solidified into a pressure that felt almost tangible.

Twelve minutes later, the voice of the impact observation team came over the communication channel: "Target area confirmed hit; the error is within the design range."

Fatima turned around and said to Reza, "Range is 558 kilometers, and the warhead power is 8% higher than the design value."

Reza nodded and said, "Very good."

Only those two words, but he could see the light in Fatima's eyes—the light that only appears when an engineer pours all their wisdom and energy into one thing and then sees it succeed with their own eyes.

The strategic significance of this test was not explained by Reza to anyone that day, but it was written into his notebook:

"Persia-2 full-range test successful. From today on, the distance from Tehran to Tel Aviv is no longer a political no-go zone."

On August 20th, Reza called Hassan to his office.

"In the next twenty days, you need to do three things," Reza said. "First, continue the early morning live-combat simulations; do not stop. Second, select the fifty most elite personnel from the rapid response force to form an independent action team—this team's mission is wartime infiltration; it is not defense, it is offense. Third, help me confirm one thing."

"What is it?"

"Help me confirm one thing," Reza said, looking at Hassan. "Tell me, if you were an Iraqi commander leading three armored divisions and wanted to break through Iran's border defense line from the direction of Shatt al-Arab, how would you fight it?"

Hassan was stunned. He had not expected Reza to ask this.

"I would—" Hassan thought for two seconds, "I would first use artillery to cover Iran's frontline positions, clear out all their anti-tank firepower points, and then have the armored clusters break through from three directions simultaneously to disperse their defensive forces."

"Good," Reza nodded. "Now think in reverse. If you were the Iranian commander and you knew the opponent would use these three steps, how would you defend?"

Hassan was silent for a while, then said, "I would build the anti-tank positions on the second line of defense—only place a small number of observation posts on the first line of defense to make them think that is the front. When their artillery covers the first line, they will waste a large amount of ammunition and time. Then the armored clusters will set out, thinking there is no threat ahead—only to crash into a whole web of Anti-tank mines and rocket launcher firepower on the second line of defense."

Hearing this answer, a nearly imperceptible smile appeared on Reza's face.

"You are ready," he said.

Hassan understood what he meant—Reza hadn't been asking for tactical knowledge just now, but was testing Hassan's ability to think using "the enemy's logic." An excellent commander must play two roles simultaneously: themselves and the opponent. This ability to switch thinking is the key to distinguishing an ordinary officer from a strategist.

"The third thing," Reza continued, "starting today, your fifty-person action team must conduct a night infiltration training every day. I will not specify the location, the time, or the mission objective—you just need to let them know that every training session could be their last, and they must treat every simulation with the attitude they would have for a real mission."

Hassan nodded and left.