134: This war really can't go on!

After Ambassador Jerejian left, Hafez al-Assad turned to look at Jameson, his eyes full of admiration.

“Jameson, you truly are the lucky star of my Crescent Nation! Your strategic brilliance was indispensable for this victory!”

Jameson merely smiled faintly, not taking credit.

“I’ve decided!” Hafez al-Assad suddenly emphasized, staring intently at Jameson.

“Jameson, I officially appoint you as the Minister of Defense of the Crescent Nation! I trust you to lead our army!”

Jameson was stunned, then shook his head with a bitter smile.

“Mr. President, you overestimate me. I’m just an arms dealer. It’s not appropriate for me to be Minister of Defense, truly not appropriate.”

“What’s not appropriate about it?!” Hafez al-Assad waved his hand.

“You’re not an arms dealer, you’re a strategist! You’re a hero of our Crescent Nation!”

“With a Minister of Defense like you, who would dare to look down on our Crescent Nation?”

“Mr. President, I appreciate the thought.” Jameson’s tone was firm.

“My identity is indeed not suitable for the position of Minister of Defense. I am more skilled at strategizing behind the scenes and providing technical support.”

“If I were to take that position, I would be constrained and unable to exert my maximum effect.”

Seeing his resolute attitude, Hafez al-Assad had no choice but to give up, though the regret in his eyes was evident.

“However,” Jameson changed the subject, “Mr. President, I do have some suggestions that I hope you can adopt.”

“Please speak!” Hafez al-Assad immediately perked up.

“Since we’ve agreed to a ceasefire, we must be fully prepared,” Jameson analyzed.

“First, our ground forces can be appropriately withdrawn, but the Golan Heights must be held at all costs!”

“Not an inch can be given up! This is what we fought for with blood and sacrifice, and it’s our biggest bargaining chip in negotiations.”

Hafez al-Assad nodded repeatedly in agreement.

“Second, our air defense system still needs to be strengthened,” Jameson continued.

“Although Israel was severely beaten by us this time, their air force foundation remains, and Eagle Country will certainly provide them with blood transfusions.”

“Therefore, we must remain vigilant at all times, weaving our air defense net even tighter, so that not even a fly can get in.”

“You’re right!” Hafez al-Assad clenched his fist. “The Golan Heights must not be lost! The air defense system must be strengthened!”

While Hafez al-Assad and Jameson were discussing post-ceasefire strategic deployments in the Presidential Palace in Damascus.

The war on the front lines continued.

On the position of the Crescent Nation’s 3rd Armored Division, smoke permeated the air. Major General Salimdin, the division commander, had dust all over his face.

Yet his eyes were exceptionally bright. The binoculars in his hand were locked onto an Israel apache attack helicopter in the distance.

“Fire at it! Aim carefully and fire!” Salimdin roared.

“Boom!” An anti-aircraft missile, trailing a long plume of smoke, shot straight towards its target.

“Hit!” The spotter shouted excitedly.

The apache helicopter struggled for a few moments in the air.

Then, spewing black smoke, it plunged downwards, emitting a deafening explosion.

“Well done!” Salimdin laughed heartily, punching a nearby sandbag. “How many is that now?”

“Reporting, Division Commander! This is the fifteenth apache shot down today!”

The signalman’s voice trembled, a sign of extreme excitement.

Salimdin’s 3rd Armored Division had performed exceptionally valiantly in this war.

Their anti-aircraft firepower was simply the nightmare of apache helicopters.

Israel pilots never dreamed that the Crescent Nation’s anti-aircraft firepower.

When did it become so precise and so dense? Every time they took to the sky, it was like a journey to death.

However, just as Salimdin was about to issue a new attack order, a signalman rushed over, holding a telegram.

“Division Commander! Urgent telegram from the Presidential Palace!”

Salimdin took the telegram, unfolded it, and his brows immediately furrowed tightly.

“Withdraw?!” He practically roared.

“How is this possible?! We just beat Israel to a pulp, this is the perfect time to press our advantage, why withdraw?!”

The surrounding officers also erupted in confusion, expressing their incomprehension.

“Division Commander, we’ve pushed Israel to the brink of collapse! Withdrawing now, wouldn’t that make all our efforts in vain?”

“Yes, Division Commander! We still need to reclaim more land!”

Salimdin raised his hand, signaling for everyone to quiet down. He reread the telegram; although he had countless questions.

A Soldier's duty is to obey orders. This was an order personally issued by the President, and he could not defy it.

“Order the troops to immediately cease the attack and retreat in an orderly fashion!”

Salimdin took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions. “The entire division will gather at the Golan Heights! Hold the position!”

Although unwilling, Salimdin’s orders were thoroughly carried out.

The Soldiers of the 3rd Armored Division, with the joy of victory, began to withdraw from the battlefield in an orderly manner, heading towards the Golan Heights.

Meanwhile, the Israel front lines were in ruins. Destroyed tanks, armored vehicles, and bodies were everywhere.

The Soldiers were all covered in dust, their eyes filled with fear and exhaustion.

They had no idea why the Crescent Nation’s bombers could so accurately find their hidden positions.

Why their artillery fire could so precisely cover their assembly areas.

Every shelling, every airstrike, was like the grim reaper’s scythe, mercilessly harvesting their lives.

“Ceasefire! Ceasefire!”

Suddenly, a cheer came from the command post. An officer rushed out, shouting loudly.

Hearing the news, all the Israel Soldiers froze, and then immense joy surged through their hearts like a tide.

They collapsed to the ground, panting heavily, the feeling of surviving making them almost cry.

This war, it really couldn’t be fought anymore! If they continued, these people would probably all perish here!

What they didn’t know was that ten thousand meters above their heads, two inconspicuous Rainbow-7 Drones.

Were silently circling. They were equipped with the most advanced reconnaissance equipment, monitoring every move of the Israel army.

The war between the Crescent Nation and Israel ended in a way no one expected.

But the storm unleashed by this war had only just begun to sweep the globe.

The front pages of major media outlets were dominated by this short but intense conflict.

“The End of an Undefeated Myth! Israel Air Force Suffers Epic Defeat!”

“Roar of the Crescent Lion! Middle East Pattern May Be Reshuffled!”

“Mysterious Eastern Fighter Jet, the ‘Thunder’ Dominating the Skies!”

For a time, the world’s attention focused on the country that had just emerged from the flames of war.

And that little-known fighter jet—the JF-17 Thunder -3.

Israel’s undefeated myth was completely shattered.

This was more painful than directly killing them.

Eagle Country.

In the Oval Office of White House, the atmosphere was so heavy it could drip water.

President Ronald Reagan’s face was ashen, clutching a battle report, veins bulging on the back of his hand.

“Who can tell me what exactly happened?!”

He slammed the battle report onto the table with a dull thud.

“F-15! F-16! Our most advanced fighter jets! Why did they lose so badly?!”

“Fifteen! A full fifteen apaches! In one day! All shot down!”