63: No good at fighting, but number one at surrendering.

This was a fact that no one could deny.

"Commander-in-Chief," Deputy Commander-in-Chief Lorenzo pushed up his glasses, his gaze solemn behind the lenses.

"I believe the most crucial things right now are two matters."

"First, immediately order the Third Brigade, which is heading north, to stop advancing and switch to defensive positions on the spot."

"If they charge in again, they are very likely to repeat the Seventh Division's mistakes."

"Second, we must immediately request support from the US Military!"

Behar suddenly came to his senses.

Right! The Third Brigade!

He had almost forgotten about that.

"Immediately issue orders to the Third Brigade! Stop advancing! Construct defensive lines!"

He roared, then looked at Lorenzo, a hint of inquiry in his eyes.

"The US Military... do you think they will intervene?"

"They will," Lorenzo's tone was very firm.

"The emergence of this 'Free Army' has seriously threatened the stability of the entire South America, which is not in US's interest."

"Moreover, they are very likely using weapons from the East, and this alone is enough to make Washington wary."

Behar took a deep breath, his eyes once again becoming fierce.

"Good!"

"No matter who is behind them, anyone who dares to run wild on Bolivian soil must be made to pay the price!"

"I have decided to dispatch one brigade each from the Fifth Division stationed in the north and the Second Division in the east to reinforce the south!"

"Commander-in-Chief, no!" Lorenzo immediately objected, "The northern and eastern defense zones are already short on troops; if we withdraw more units...

"What if Brazil and Peru take advantage of the weakness? I believe the key to victory now is not the army, but air superiority!"

"As long as we can get air support from the US Military and destroy their air defense positions, then their tanks will be nothing more than living targets!"

Behar stared at the sand table, silent for a long time.

Finally, he nodded.

"You are right."

"Immediately contact Colonel Daniel, the head of the US Military Advisory Group in Bolivia."

"Tell him that I need an urgent meeting with him."

"We need powerful air power to send all those damned flies and iron shells to hell!"

Thirty kilometers outside Santa Cruz.

Soldiers of the Third Brigade of the Bolivian Army's First Division were grumbling as they dug makeshift fortifications by the roadside.

Shovels scraped into the dry, hard ground, making a grating sound that set teeth on edge.

"Damn it! What the hell is going on?"

"Yesterday they told us to march urgently, today they tell us to dig here?"

"Brigade Commander, what exactly is happening?"

Brigade Commander Esdenso kicked away a shovel a soldier had left on the ground, the metallic clang particularly harsh.

His dark face was filled with irritation and anger.

"All of you, shut the hell up!"

He roared, his chest heaving violently.

"How the hell should I know what those pigs in the General Staff are thinking!"

Just half a day ago, the order he received was to "advance at full speed towards Santa Cruz at all costs to annihilate the rebels."

He was preparing to lead his elite brigade to claim the first credit for suppressing the rebellion.

What was the result? Not long after the convoy set out, a new order came through the radio.

"Stop advancing, construct defensive lines on the spot, and await further orders."

Orders changed overnight!

Esdenso felt his fists clench.

He wished he could rush back to the General Staff now, grab those officials by their collars, and demand an explanation.

"Brigade Commander, calm down."

Chief of Staff Paz handed him a bottle of water, lowering his voice.

"The order came directly from the Commander-in-Chief; something might be wrong."

"What the hell could be wrong?" Esdenso unscrewed the bottle cap and took a big gulp.

"Isn't it just a bunch of dirt-poor rebels with AKs? The Seventh Division couldn't handle it, but does that mean our Third Brigade can't either?"

In his perception, the Seventh Division was the disgrace of the Bolivian Army, with poor soldier quality.

Their equipment was old, and their officers were all focused on making money; they were terrible at fighting, but first-rate at surrendering.

Their collapse was completely expected.

But what did that have to do with his elite Third Brigade?

Paz pushed up his glasses, his expression unusually serious.

"Brigade Commander, the Seventh Division... didn't just collapse."

"It was routed."

Esdenso's movements stopped; he narrowed his eyes, staring at his Chief of Staff.

"What's the difference?"

"A big difference," Paz's voice was even lower.

"The 19th Brigade, its entire formation was wiped out. The main force of the Seventh Division is still being chased and beaten around Sotutu."

"They're no different from stray dogs."

"Most critically, according to the report from Colonel Victor, who escaped, and the news from the Air Force..."

Paz paused, seemingly organizing his words.

"That 'Free Army' is equipped with main battle tanks, and... long-range air defense missiles."

"What did you say?"

Esdenso's eyes instantly widened; he grabbed Paz by the collar, practically roaring.

"Tanks? Air defense missiles? Are you messing with me?"

"Brigade Commander, this is top-secret intelligence from the General Staff!" Paz struggled to speak, breathless from being grabbed, but still managed to say.

"Fifteen planes sent by the Air Force for support were all gone before even entering the combat zone! Not even a single piece of wreckage was found!"

Esdenso let go, stumbling back two steps.

The arrogance and anger on his face were, at this moment, replaced by an unbelievable shock.

He wasn't a fool.

He knew better than anyone what tanks and long-range air defense missiles meant.

It meant that what they were about to face was not some guerrilla group or armed drug traffickers at all.

But a regular army... equipped with modern weaponry!

"Ha... haha..."

Esdenso suddenly laughed hysterically, his laughter full of absurdity and self-mockery.

"A bunch of rebels, better equipped than our damn regular army?"

He slammed the water bottle in his hand onto the ground; the bottle bounced and rolled far away.

"My orders!"

"Tell everyone to dig their asses into the dirt! Dig the fortifications deeper! Anti-artillery positions, air defense outposts, all of them must be manned 24 hours a day!"

"Those idiots in the General Staff want us to die, but I won't go along with it!"

Santa Cruz.

"Free Army" temporary command post.

Oliver stood in front of the huge electronic sand table, reporting the battle situation to David with exhilaration.

"Boss, everything is going smoothly."

"The Third Regiment has completely routed the flank of the Bolivian Seventh Division and successfully occupied San Carlos."

"Adding the towns taken earlier, we have controlled four important cities around Santa Cruz in just two days."

David leaned back in his chair, playing with an exquisite lighter in his hand, his face expressionless.

"Their reinforcements?"

"They came, then stopped," Oliver pointed to a flickering red dot on the sand table.

"According to drone reconnaissance, the Bolivian Army's Third Brigade."

"They stopped about twenty-five kilometers from us, seemingly constructing defensive positions."

"Oh?" David raised an eyebrow, "Not charging anymore?"

"They were probably intimidated by the strength we displayed," Oliver's tone carried a hint of pride.

"The tragic state of the Seventh Division is enough to make them calm down."

"I guess they won't act rashly again until they figure out our true capabilities, especially our air defense capabilities."

David nodded, acknowledging this assessment.