Chapter 1610: Counter-Espionage Strategy

The first faction Dike visited was the Militia Union, organized by the laborers at the bottom of the port.

In Dike's view, the Militia Union was just a bunch of stinking beggars.

Such an organization was nothing more than a large-scale begging organization formed by laborers who couldn't even get enough to eat.

However, at the thought of what he had encountered the last time he tried to win over this union, Dike suppressed the anger in his heart.

If it weren't for the fact that the port currently needed these people as a labor force, Dike would have long since sent the British army to suppress them.

None of these so-called militiamen deserved to live!

York, as the leader of the Militia Union, personally received Dike.

York very cordially addressed Dike: "Oh, isn't this our dear Great Good man, Mr. Dike? The money you gifted last time is running low; have you come to gift some more this time?"

Hearing this, Dike's face darkened, and he ignored him.

Acting as if he were the master of this place, he didn't wait for York's invitation, walked into York's office, and sat straight down in York's seat.

Seeing his seat usurped, York showed no signs of anger; on the contrary, the corners of his mouth curled into a smile, and he sat down opposite Dike very casually.

Dike glanced at him, assumed the posture of a superior, and said, "I have only one purpose for coming here this time."

"Your workers must acknowledge that the British rule this place now."

"I am your City Lord!"

York did not refute him; he spread his hands and said, "I agree with everything you have said."

Dike's expression relaxed, he leaned back, looked at York through his nostrils, and said indifferently, "Good, gather your workers and go work for our British ships."

York stood up and snapped his fingers outside the door.

Then he returned to the room and sat down again.

Dike looked at York, who had returned, raised an eyebrow, and said coldly, "What, are you unwilling?"

"No, I am very willing to gather my worker friends to work, but all of this has a prerequisite."

York narrowed his eyes and smiled: "We must receive the wages we are owed."

Dike's brow furrowed tightly, he straightened his body and stared at York's face, the fire in his heart being slowly ignited.

"I paid you money, but you didn't work for me!" Dike said in a low, cold voice.

York sneered; Dike had indeed paid, but the money paid was pitifully small, and they, these laborers, often did not receive the wages they were owed.

Just at this moment, the workers summoned by York surged in. Dike looked over, his eyes cold, and demanded, "York, I warn you, Nashadier has already left, and this city is now controlled by us British."

"If you want to do something, I advise you to dispel this unrealistic thought."

"I am the one who calls the shots here; tell your people to back down!"

York looked calmly at the angry Dike and smiled: "Then we shall follow the orders of Lord Dike; brothers, back down."

The crowd did not move; these people continued to stare at Dike's face.

Dike's expression sank.

"York, you know the consequences of provoking me."

York chuckled: "Perhaps the General should sit in my seat, or why doesn't the General issue the order himself and see?"

"You are playing me!" Dike shouted in anger.

"Ha." York gave a disdainful smile.

Dike's face was as black as iron, his fists clenched until they turned white, and his body trembled from the rage in his heart. His teeth were tightly clenched, and his throat surged as he desperately wanted to order these workers.

But these workers would not listen to him.

York was indeed playing him.

York's expression changed; he no longer had the previous respect, and he said coldly, "If you don't dare, then move aside; don't sit in my seat!"

Dike stood up; now he was in a dilemma of whether to leave or stay.

If he left, it would mean he had occupied York's seat, and his face would be completely lost.

If he didn't leave, he would keep losing face; he, this nominal City Lord, could not command these Egyptian workers at all.

In the end, Dike snorted coldly; he chose the former.

Losing face once was better than losing face here all the time.

"York, you mark my words for what you have done today." Dike threatened coldly.

York responded with a smile: "If your revenge comes, we can certainly try and see."

"Blowing up those ports is much simpler than killing a person."

A threat! A naked threat!

But Dike had no choice but to accept this reality.

Dike left with a cold face. Before coming here, he had never intended to promise the Militia Union any heavy gifts or win them over with money.

The last attempt at winning them over had already let him see through what these people were really thinking.

Although Britain was not short of this bit of money, it could not be squandered or wasted at will.

What he wanted from coming here was an attitude from the Militia Union.

Since York's attitude was so vile, Dike felt it was necessary to make York pay a price—the price of his life.

Dike headed to the next place.

……

On the other side of Egypt, Jiang Xuan and Nashadier were currently researching how to take down the three mining areas occupied by the French.

They were separated from these three mining areas by the Sahara Desert.

If they wanted to capture them, they would have to cross the Sahara Desert, which was simply an impossible thing to do.

Jiang Xuan and Nashadier fell into deep thought.

Previous marches in the desert had all been short distances; they hadn't reached the point of needing to cross the Sahara Desert.

If they were to march, they would have to cope with the extremely brutal weather environment of the Sahara Desert.

After so many people crossed the Sahara, how much combat effectiveness would they have left?

Not to mention, facing the powerful defensive formation of the French Colonial Zone.

Could the troops after crossing break through it?

As soon as this thought emerged, Jiang Xuan instantly rejected it.

The answer was absolutely negative.

"We cannot attack by force, we can only win by strategy; such a marching plan is simply unfeasible. The Sahara Desert is either high temperature or extreme cold at all times, and we have no marching tools to reach it."

Jiang Xuan said helplessly.

"But these are three Iron Mines, are we just going to give them up?" Nashadier said, unable to bear it.

"Of course we want them, but we must find a Method to win by strategy, not by capturing them!" Jiang Xuan said in a deep voice.

"How to win by strategy? We still cannot infiltrate the forces of the French Colonial Zone."

Nashadier sighed; there were three ore veins, one of which was a Saltpeter Mine, and now they had to give up these three ore veins.

Three ore veins, one of which was a Saltpeter Mine; if they gave them up, their losses would be too great.

Jiang Xuan looked at the area currently occupied by the French and said indifferently: "We have no Method to attack, but that does not mean there is no Method to attack from the inside."

Nashadier was stunned: "From the inside?"

"Yes, attack from the inside."