371: Chapter 371 Live Broadcast: Zhang Cheng

The collar of Tea Banh's military uniform was soaked with sweat. He had just rushed from the Ministry of Defense command center, and the red arrows indicating defeat on the tactical terminal were still flickering behind his eyelids. "Prime Minister, the Thai Army's fire density has exceeded our intelligence department's estimates by more than five times. Their 155mm guided shells can reach seventy kilometers, with a circular error probable of less than ten meters. Our artillery positions—they were locked by counter-battery radar as soon as they fired, leaving no time even to relocate."

"I'm not asking what kind of cannons they have." Hun Sen turned around, his eyes bloodshot from staying up all night. "I'm asking—where is our defensive line?"

Tea Banh remained silent for a few seconds. Those few seconds felt longer than the artillery fire.

"Pursat Province." He walked to the electronic map on the wall and pointed his finger at a location marked with a red dashed line. "The 70th Brigade has already set out from Phnom Penh and is expected to establish a second defensive line at the Cardamom Pass west of Pursat Province before 8:00 PM tonight. That is the last natural barrier for entering Phnom Penh from the west. The 70th Brigade is our ace—the entire brigade is at full strength, with four mechanized infantry battalions, one tank battalion, and one self-propelled artillery battalion, all equipped with Dragon Country-made—"

"I know what the 70th Brigade is," Hun Sen interrupted him. "The question is, do the Thais know?"

Tea Banh did not answer.

Hun Sen walked to his desk and picked up the red encrypted phone. On the other end of the line was the USA Ambassador to Cambodia, Michael Peterson.

The call connected. Peterson's voice came through the encrypted line, carrying the slight delay and hollow echo characteristic of transoceanic satellite communications.

"Mr. Prime Minister, I deeply understand your country's current situation. The White House is closely monitoring the development of events."

"I need Article 3 of the 'US-Cambodia Military Cooperation Agreement' activated immediately." Hun Sen skipped the pleasantries and cut straight to the point. His fingers gripped the phone cord, his knuckles turning white. "The Thai Army has already crossed the Dangrek Mountains and is advancing toward Pursat Province. From Pursat to Phnom Penh, the straight-line distance is less than two hundred kilometers. Mr. Ambassador, this is not a border conflict; this is a full-scale invasion."

Peterson was silent for a moment—Hun Sen could tell it wasn't a line delay, but the specific pause of a person weighing their words.

"Mr. Prime Minister, I fully understand the urgency of the situation. I have already submitted an emergency assessment report to Washington. But you must understand—the activation of Article 3 of the 'US-Cambodia Military Cooperation Agreement' requires authorization from the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. The Senate is currently in recess, and the earliest a hearing can be held is next week. Additionally, the 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit stationed in Okinawa needs at least seventy-two hours of preparation time to complete loading and maritime transit—"

"Seventy-two hours?" Hun Sen's voice suddenly rose. "Mr. Ambassador, by then, Zhang Cheng's tanks will be parked at the gates of the Peace Palace!"

"Mr. Prime Minister, I assure you that Washington is utilizing all available resources." Peterson's voice remained as steady as an automated answering machine. "Our country has already expressed 'serious concern' to the Thai military leadership through the military attaché in Bangkok. We have also authorized the Military Training Mission in Cambodia to provide your military with real-time satellite intelligence—"

Hun Sen hung up the phone.

He stood by the desk, his hand still pressed on the receiver, his knuckles turning from white to red. Outside the window, on the Phnom Penh skyline, a mass of rain clouds was pressing in, obscuring the midday sun into a blurred halo.

"He didn't even dare to say 'considering deployment'." Hun Sen's voice returned to a low, dangerous calm. "From Okinawa to Sihanoukville Port, a C-17 transport plane takes five hours. The 'seventy-two hours of preparation time' he mentioned—is waiting for us to die completely."

He turned abruptly and looked at Tea Banh.

"The 70th Brigade, tell them to speed up. Complete resupply within one hour and leave the city within two. Tell them—abandon all heavy equipment, as long as the men can reach Pursat Province. If they can't make it, Phnom Penh will be the next Mandalay."

He picked up the remote and turned on the TV. National Television of Cambodia was broadcasting a replay of his speech from last night—on the screen, he was holding that new version of the Thai map, shouting righteously that "the Cambodian people will never back down." Hun Sen watched for a few seconds and gave a cold laugh.

"Stop this. Open all channels. I want to make a nationwide live broadcast speech."

Fifteen minutes later, Hun Sen stood at the podium in the Peace Palace press briefing hall. His face appeared simultaneously on every television screen, radio, and mobile phone notification across Cambodia.

"People of Cambodia, today, I want to expose the true mastermind behind this war."

He paused, looking directly into the Lens with eyes that had survived the Khmer Rouge, the Vietnamese occupation, the United Nations trusteeship, and decades of political whirlpools.

"It is not Thailand that is invading Cambodia. Thailand is merely a manipulated puppet. The real enemy is entrenched in Naypyidaw. His name is Zhang Cheng. He is an international criminal who rose to power through telecom fraud, drug smuggling, and human trafficking. He used the ill-gotten gains from fraud parks to build a gangster army, used that army to overthrow the legitimate government of Myanmar, and now—he is using that army to control Thailand and launch an invasion against Cambodia."

He raised his voice.

"The international community has an obligation to stop this combination of transnational crime and military aggression! I have officially requested the USA to invoke the 'US-Cambodia Military Cooperation Agreement'. I also call upon ASEAN, the United Nations, and all peace-loving nations to implement comprehensive sanctions against the Zhang Cheng regime! Cambodia will not yield! Cambodia will fight the invaders to the death in Pursat Province—in every street and on every bridge of Phnom Penh!"

The live signal was cut.

On the streets of Phnom Penh, the crowds that had been watching the big screens began to disperse. It wasn't a spirited dispersal—it was a silent, head-bowed dispersal of people who exchanged glances and then left in a hurry. Some began packing their bags. Some withdrew all their cash from ATMs. Some got on motorcycles and drove east—toward the border with Vietnam.

West of Pursat Province, Cardamom Pass.

The convoy of the Cambodian 70th Brigade sped along Highway 5 in the heavy rain. It was a mixed convoy consisting of BMP-1 infantry fighting vehicles, T-54/55 tanks, Nanjing Iveco military trucks, and civilian buses. The tracks ground over the asphalt softened by rainwater, splashing mud against the sides of the vehicles. Soldiers huddled in the truck beds, clutching their rifles, silently watching the rubber plantations recede rapidly outside.

Brigadier General Kong Sor, the brigade commander, sat at the turret hatch of the leading BMP-1, observing the mountain terrain ahead with binoculars. Cardamom Pass was a narrow canyon about eight kilometers long, with the highway winding through the bottom. On both sides were impenetrable tropical rainforests with slopes exceeding forty degrees. This was the last natural barrier for entering Phnom Penh from the west.

"Engineer Battalion," he shouted into the radio, "as soon as you reach the pass, lay mines on both sides of the highway immediately. Mix anti-tank and anti-personnel mines, with a density of two hundred per kilometer."