165: The Americans! They've backed down!

After finishing all of this, he looked at the funds on the system interface that had shrunk significantly again.

Far from feeling heartache, he felt an unprecedented sense of security.

"Just having iron lumps isn't enough; you need people who know how to drive them."

David stroked his chin.

Whether it's the JF-17 Thunder, J16, or S-400, these are technical jobs; you can't just grab any random Soldier and expect them to handle it.

He opened the system's human resources page again.

"Targeted recruitment, 200 experienced fighter pilots."

"Targeted recruitment, 200 personnel with experience operating S-400, FK-3, or similar air defense systems."

The system's efficiency was as high as ever.

Almost instantly, the order was confirmed and the funds were transferred.

【This military procurement and personnel recruitment cost a total of 580 million USD.】

The system's notification sound was cold yet pleasant.

David took a deep breath and dialed Oliver's encrypted number.

On the other end of the line, Oliver's voice sounded exhausted.

Clearly, the recent standoff with the US had put him under immense pressure.

"Boss, are you looking for me?"

"Oliver, I'm sending you some reinforcements."

David's tone was relaxed and cheerful.

"I've equipped you with five new armored brigades. You plan it out; put two on the northern border."

"Put one at Sosa's hydroelectric power station, and keep the remaining two mobile in the south, ready to support the direction of Argentina at any time."

Oliver's brain short-circuited.

Five armored brigades?

Did he hear that wrong?

A single armored brigade was already an iron flood that Bolivia previously dared not even dream of. Now, he asks for five just like that?

"Boss, are you joking?"

Oliver's voice was trembling.

"What kind of joke is that? The supplies have arrived at the port; hurry up and arrange for people to receive them."

David continued.

"Additionally, for the Air Force, I've equipped you with a JF-17 Thunder squadron."

"A J16 strike regiment, a J16D electronic warfare squadron, and five KJ-500 early warning aircraft."

"The planes are parked at the three airbases in La Paz, Santa Cruz, and Santa Ana; go take a look yourself."

Oliver was completely speechless.

He felt like his heart was about to jump out of his throat.

This wasn't just sending warmth; this was moving the sun right to his doorstep!

"Also," David didn't give Oliver any chance to catch his breath.

"To prevent others from becoming desperate and reckless, I've gotten you 20 sets of FK-3 and 5 sets of S-400 air defense systems."

"Deploy them in the major cities and key areas; keep an eye on our skies."

"S-400?"

Oliver finally let out an exclamation.

As the Minister of Defense, he knew too well what that name meant.

That was a strategic weapon capable of changing the military balance of a region!

"Boss... I... I..."

Oliver was so excited he was incoherent, his eyes red.

With these things, Bolivia's backbone could truly stand straight!

"Alright, stop with the 'I, I, I' and go get to work."

David hung up the phone with a smile, leaving Oliver alone in his office, crying and laughing at the phone.

Bolivia's sudden display of a tough attitude.

And its tense relationship with the US, quickly became the focus of global attention.

The headlines of major media outlets were all analyzing where this small South American country got its confidence.

As a neighbor, Argentina showed unusual enthusiasm.

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs spokesperson made statements in public three times a day.

Firmly supporting Bolivia's actions to safeguard national sovereignty and condemning any form of hegemonism and interference in internal affairs.

It had the air of "If a brother is in trouble, I will back him up."

Of course, Bolivia had not made any official response to this, just silently carrying out its own military mobilization.

Meanwhile, the US military base located within Bolivia was having a harder and harder time.

Outside the base, the exercises of the Bolivian National Defense Force never stopped.

During the day, it was the roar of tank engines and the thunder of artillery; at night, it was the screech of fighter jets flying at low altitude.

The entire base was disturbed and restless.

Even worse, the base was cut off from water and electricity.

Immediately after, the only road leading to the base was blocked under the pretext of "military exercises," and all food and supply deliveries were interrupted.

The hundreds of US Soldiers in the base completely became a group of unlucky wretches trapped on a deserted island.

The base commander, Colonel John Worden, felt he was going crazy.

The phone lines in his office were almost blown up by him, and he was begging The Pentagon for help every day.

"Sir! Our drinking water can only last three days! The Soldiers can only live on canned food!"

"Sir! The Bolivians are too much!"

"They even set up loudspeakers outside the base, playing South American tacky pop music 24 hours a day!"

"Requesting support! Requesting immediate action!"

However, the replies from The Pentagon were always vague.

In fact, The Pentagon was also in chaos.

The hardliners advocated for immediate military action to give this small country that didn't know the immensity of heaven and earth a lesson.

But the cautious faction believed.

There was a shadow of the Eastern Great Power behind Bolivia; acting rashly could very likely lead to falling into a new quagmire of war.

Eventually, after several rounds of fierce arguments and assessments, a consensus gradually formed.

The people must be withdrawn immediately!

If they stayed any longer, once Bolivia took more radical actions.

Like charging directly into the base to make arrests, then the face of the US would truly be thrown into the Pacific Ocean.

By that time, whether to fight or not, they would be completely passive.

A written order, with the highest priority, was sent to John Worden's desk.

"Order: All personnel stationed in Bolivia."

"Destroy all sensitive documents and equipment, and evacuate the base within 48 hours to return to the homeland."

Looking at this order, Colonel Warden's nerves, which had been tight for over half a month, suddenly relaxed.

He let out a long sigh, and his whole body slumped onto the chair.

Retreating was shameful, but it was better than being trapped to death in this ghost place.

He could finally leave this place that had tortured him so much.

The night was deep.

When Pedro's encrypted call came through.

David was leisurely sitting on the terrace, holding a glass of red wine, admiring the distant city night view.

As soon as the call connected, Pedro's irrepressible excited voice came through, with a bit of a tremor.

"Boss! Good news! Huge good news!"

"The Eagle! They've given in!"

"They've agreed to withdraw their troops!"

Pedro was almost shouting.

Across the phone line, David could imagine him dancing and jumping, excited to the point of almost taking off on the spot.

"Hmm, expected."

David's tone was calm; he gently swirled the wine glass, the deep red liquid leaving a beautiful arc on the glass wall.

"Don't be too excited, sit down and drink some water, tell me slowly."

"Yes! Boss!"

Pedro took several deep breaths before he could barely steady his voice.

"Just confirmed through secret channels, The Pentagon's order has been issued to the base."

"They require the base to complete the evacuation within 48 hours!"

"We won, Boss! We really forced the Eagle to leave!"

"This is the first time in South America, no, in the whole world!"

Pedro's voice was full of awe.

Once upon a time, the Eagle was a myth that was invincible in their eyes, a great mountain pressing down on the heads of all South American countries.

And now, this mountain had been forcibly pried open by them.