Chapter 662: The Chessboard Unfolds

At 4 a. m. Dubai time, the President's office conference room was brightly lit.

At one end of the long table, Chen Feng sat in the head seat, holding a cup of tea that had gone completely cold. His eyes were a little red; since yesterday he hadn't slept a single minute. Yet those eyes were still bright, like two lamps in the deep night.

The two sides of the long table were filled with people.

On the left were Wang Wenwu, Li Te, and several naval staff officers. On the right were the Chiefs of Staff of several main army divisions, and Zhou Zhen guo, who had just rushed back from Borneo—his ship hadn't even docked firmly when he was summoned here.

Zhang Zhen was also present. He lay on a stretcher, carried in by others. Chen Feng saw him and frowned, "Why are you here?"

Zhang Zhen smiled, his grin tugging at his wound, and grinned, "President, the Huaihe ship is still under repair; I have idle time, so I must attend this meeting."

Chen Feng looked at him for three seconds, then nodded.

"Alright. Then listen while lying down."

A huge Yazhou‑Indian Ocean map hung on the wall. From the Persian Gulf to the Strait of Malacca, from India's west coast to the northwest corner of Australia, it was densely marked with various symbols—red arrows, blue circles, black anchor points.

After everyone arrived, Chen Feng stood up and walked to the map.

"Everyone," he began, his voice low but each word as clear as a nail driven into wood, "Yingguo gave us a slap. Now, we must return it."

He picked up a red pencil and drew a huge circle on the map.

"First front: naval blockade line."

The pencil started at the Strait of Malacca, tracing an arc across the Indian Ocean that extended all the way to the mouth of the Persian Gulf.

"Lanfang Navy, over a hundred submarines, all deployed. Since early this morning, they have been sailing out one after another."

He turned to Li Te, "General Li, please explain the specific deployment of the submarine forces."

Li Te stood up, walked to the map. He took another pencil and marked several key locations on that huge arc:

"Western mouth of the Strait of Malacca, deploy 12 submarines. This is the throat where the Indian Ocean enters the Pacific; Yingguo merchant ships from Singapore, Hong Kong, Australia heading to Europe must pass here."

"India's west coast, near Mumbai, deploy 20 submarines. Mumbai is Yingguo's largest naval base in the Indian Ocean and the main hub for merchant ships. Our forces will wait outside the port; one comes out, we take one down."

"Central Arabian Sea, the main shipping lane intersection, deploy 15 submarines. This is the densest area for Yingguo merchant fleets."

"Near the Gulf of Aden, deploy 10 submarines. The Red Sea entrance, the essential route to the Suez Canal."

"Mouth of the Persian Gulf, Strait of Hormuz, deploy 8 submarines. Yingguo oil tankers exit from here."

He set down the pencil and turned to Chen Feng, "President, the submarine mission is clear—every Yingguo vessel, whether warship or merchant ship, is a legitimate target. But to avoid harming neutral ships, each captain receives orders: warn first, then fire. If the opponent flies a neutral flag, let them go."

Chen Feng nodded and looked at the several submarine commanders present.

"Your mission is to cut off Yingguo's arteries, making them bleed to death. This is not a fleet‑to‑fleet showdown, but guerrilla warfare. Fire one shot, move to another spot, and keep the Yingguo scrambling."

A middle‑aged submarine captain raised his hand, "President, what if Yingguo warships provide escort?"

Chen Feng looked at him, "If they have warship escorts, hide. Wait until they are isolated before striking. Remember, submarines are not battleships; no frontal clash is needed. Your advantage is concealment, patience, and waiting for the prey to come to you."

The captain nodded, "Understood."

Chen Feng turned to the map, placing the pencil on the Sinai Peninsula.

"Second front: Sinai Corps."

He drew an arrow on the Sinai Peninsula pointing toward the Suez Canal.

"The 2nd, 3rd, 7th, 8th, and 9th Divisions are to be transferred to Hordasa, to join the 1st Mechanized Infantry Division and form the Sinai Corps. Total strength is about 120,000, all under the command of Major General Zhao Dengyu."

He paused briefly, looking at an army staff officer present, "How are things on Zhao Dengyu's side?"

The staff officer stood up, "Report, President: the 1st Mechanized Infantry Division is fully in place. The 2nd and 3rd Divisions are en route, expected to arrive this evening. The 7th, 8th, and 9th Divisions departed from their stations and should all arrive by tomorrow afternoon at the earliest."

"What about supplies?"

"Ammunition, fuel, fresh water, medicine have been shipped for three days. Hordasa's warehouses are piled high, enough for 120,000 troops for a month."

Chen Feng nodded and tapped the spot of the Suez Canal on the map.

"The target is here. Yingguo's carotid artery. If the Suez Canal is cut, the link between Europe and Asia is severed. India, Australia, Singapore will all become isolated islands."

He looked at that staff officer, "Tell Zhao Dengyu that until I give the order, crossing the canal is prohibited. But be ready to cross at any time—know the locations of pontoon bridges, assault boats, and enemy fire points on the opposite bank."

The staff officer stood at attention, "Yes!"

"Third front: Persian Gulf direction."

Chen Feng's pencil landed on the northern end of the Persian Gulf, southern Iran.

"Division commanders Wang Guojian, Yang Guoyan, and Fan Pupu command three Arabian divisions, advancing from Kuwait toward Iran. The target is the Abadan oil field—Yingguo's largest oil depot in the Middle East."

He looked at a middle‑aged officer in Arab division commander's uniform—Wang Guojian, who had just rushed back from Kuwait for the meeting.

Wang Guojian stood up and walked to the map.

"President, the reconnaissance troops have already passed. Yingguo's garrison at the Abadan oil field is about two battalions, mainly Indian colonial troops with average equipment. They have built a few outposts on the periphery, but the defense is lax—they probably didn't expect us to attack from Kuwait."

Chen Feng asked, "What about the oil‑field facilities?"

"They are intact. Yingguo continues normal extraction, with oil tankers departing the Persian Gulf daily."

Chen Feng narrowed his eyes.

"Then we must strike harder. Cut off their oil, and their warships won't be able to move."

Wang Guojian nodded, "Understood. But President, if fighting breaks out, the oil‑field facilities…"

"Preserve them as much as possible," Chen Feng said. "In the future those oil fields will be ours, not Yingguo's. Let the soldiers remember: bombing an oil field is easy, rebuilding is hard. If you can avoid destroying it, do so."

Wang Guojian affirmed, "Yes!"

"Fourth front: Borneo and Singapore."

Chen Feng's pencil swept across the South China Sea, landing on the tiny red dot representing Singapore.

"Zhou Zhen guo."

Zhou Zhen guo stood up. He wore a brand‑new lieutenant‑general uniform, the golden star on his shoulder boards glittering in the light. Since yesterday he had slept only one hour, yet he stood perfectly upright.

"General Zhou, your new appointment: Commander of the Borneo theater navy, commanding the Zhenyuan and Jiyuan, coordinating with Sakura Nation's ten corps for the landing at Singapore."

Zhou Zhen guo nodded, "Understood."

"How are the ten corps of Sakura Nation assembling?"