260: Chapter 260 God is the greatest, open fire!

"Drones! A massive swarm of drones! Approaching at low altitude!" the sentry screamed.

The battalion commander attempted to activate the close-in weapon system, but it was already too late. The first wave of fifty 'Locust' suicide drones swarmed toward the artillery positions from different directions and altitudes like hornets. Their targets were clear: radar vehicles, command vehicles, and ammunition transport trucks.

One drone crashed through the side armor of the command vehicle and exploded inside, blowing the battalion command post sky-high.

Three drones simultaneously struck a truck fully loaded with 155mm shells, triggering an earth-shattering sympathetic explosion. The resulting fireball engulfed two nearby self-propelled howitzers and dozens of soldiers.

The entire artillery position descended into a hellscape of fire and chaos. Surviving soldiers fired wildly into the air with rifles and machine guns, but their efforts were largely ineffective against the nimble, small-scale drones.

Ten minutes later, a second wave of one hundred drones arrived. This time, they were equipped with incendiary warheads, specifically targeting fuel trucks and tent areas.

By the time the attack ended, the 282nd Battalion had lost over 60% of its equipment and 40% of its personnel, completely losing its combat effectiveness.

The same scene played out at two other artillery positions belonging to the Squid Nation military.

Lavitz's 'absolute fire superiority' had a massive hole torn through it just eleven hours after the campaign began.

Night fell.

The Squid Nation military's advance had made 'progress' during the day—the northern route pushed ten kilometers deep, the central route eight, and the southern route six. However, the price they paid far exceeded expectations: at least twenty tanks and thirty armored vehicles were destroyed or heavily damaged, casualties exceeded five hundred, and three artillery positions were devastated.

More importantly, troop morale began to fracture. The soldiers were exhausted, their nerves frayed, growing paranoid of every shadow and pile of rubble. The officers began to doubt if this 'steady advance' was truly effective—the enemy seemed to be right in front of them, yet always out of reach, while their supply lines and command posts remained constantly exposed to the enemy's blade.

At the Three-Way Junction area, Khalid and his squad had been waiting for an entire day.

At 6:00 PM, Sinwar's headquarters finally crackled over the radio: "Attention, an enemy reinforced armored company from the northern route (approximately twelve tanks and eight armored vehicles) is moving toward your sector. Expected arrival at the Three-Way Junction in twenty minutes. Execute Plan 'Anvil'."

Khalid took a deep breath and said to his men, "Prepare yourselves. Allahu Akbar."

Young Muhammad gripped the detonator, his finger hovering over the red button, trembling slightly.

Abbas lay prone at the edge of the rooftop. Through the thermal imaging scope of his sniper rifle, he spotted the heat signature of the first merkava tank's engine at the distant street corner.

The roar of the tanks drew closer, the vibrations of the ground traveling up through the building's structure.

Twelve Merkava Mk4s, lined up in two columns, cautiously entered the Three-Way Junction intersection. The tanks maintained a twenty-meter distance from each other, their turrets rotating slowly as machine gunners vigilantly scanned the windows of the surrounding high-rises. Eight Namer armored personnel carriers followed behind, their roof-mounted machine gunners equally tense.

Leading the unit was Major Moshe Cohen, the battalion commander of the 53rd Armored Battalion, 7th Armored Brigade. He was an experienced armored officer who had participated in numerous military operations in the Gaza Strip. But today, ever since entering Gaza, he felt an inexplicable sense of unease. It was too quiet, the advance too smooth—it felt like... like walking into a trap.

"All vehicles, halt," Cohen ordered over the radio. "Scouts, move forward to check the intersection. Drones, scan the surrounding buildings."

Two armored vehicles moved forward, dropping off a dozen infantrymen who, weapons raised, cautiously inspected the center of the intersection and the surrounding ruins. A small reconnaissance drone rose from behind the tanks and began a circling scan.

Khalid lay prone by a sixth-floor window, holding his breath. He saw the infantry below; the closest one was less than thirty meters away. But he couldn't move.

"No IEDs found."

"No heat signatures detected inside the buildings."

"Drone scan complete, no anomalies found."

The scouts' reports allowed Cohen to relax slightly. Perhaps he really was overthinking things.

"Continue the advance. Maintain high alert," he ordered.

The tanks restarted, their treads grinding over broken bricks and rubble with a piercing screech.

The first tank passed through the center of the intersection.

The second.

The third...

When the eighth tank—Cohen's own command vehicle—entered the center of the intersection—

"Now!" Khalid growled into the radio. "Fire!"

Swoosh—Boom!

The first Kornet missile streaked from the roof of a nine-story building in the northeast corner, precisely striking the side of the lead tank's turret. The shaped charge jet penetrated, detonating the ammunition inside, and the entire tank turned into a burning iron coffin.

Almost simultaneously, a second missile fired from the southwest corner, destroying the tank at the rear of the column and blocking the retreat.

"Ambush! Anti-tank missiles from the rooftops! Three o'clock! Eleven o'clock!" Cohen's headset was filled with panicked shouting.

The tanks' machine guns and main cannons fired frantically at the high-rises on both sides, sending concrete fragments raining down. But the attackers were hidden behind thick walls, making them difficult to hit.

Even more lethal were the RPGs that began flying from various windows, targeting the armored vehicles and accompanying infantry. Sniper Abbas used his .50 caliber rounds to specifically target the tanks' commander sights and communication antennas.

One merkava's turret rotation mechanism was disabled by a .50 caliber bullet, turning it into a fixed pillbox.

Another's communication antenna was severed, leaving it deaf.

The infantry were pinned down behind the armored vehicles by crossfire, suffering heavy casualties.

"Retreat! Reverse! Get out of this intersection!" Cohen roared.

But the tanks behind were blocked by burning wreckage. The tanks in front tried to accelerate out, only to run over pre-planted anti-tank mines; their treads were blown apart, leaving them stranded in the middle of the road.

The entire armored company—twelve tanks, eight armored vehicles, and over one hundred and fifty soldiers—was completely trapped in this 'Death Triangle' surrounded by high-rises on three sides.

"Engineers! Blast through the wreckage blocking the road! Call for support! We need air support and artillery coverage!" Cohen screamed into the radio, but he was met only with the hiss of static—electronic jamming had intensified again, and communications were completely severed.

Just then, Khalid's voice rang out through loudspeakers hidden in the ruins, speaking in accented but clear Hebrew:

"Soldiers of the Squid Nation, you are surrounded. Lay down your weapons and come out with your hands up, and we can guarantee your safety. Resistance leads only to death."