The command vehicle was dark, with only the indicator lights of the radio flickering. The red light flashed every few seconds, illuminating Akar's face like the curves of a heartbeat monitor.
He stood up from his seat, pushed the door open, and the cold wind rushed in, carrying the smell of gunpowder and blood.
The adjutant stood by the car, his face covered in ash.
"They're all in now. Old Homs, they came in from the west. Maher personally led the men."
Akar said nothing, staring at the map.
East of Homs City, their tanks had already breached, in the north, the 1st Brigade and 2nd Brigade were entangled with the remnants of the Syrians.
In the south, there were no troops yet.
In the west, the Old Town, Maher's men were probing inward. Four directions, three were fighting, one was waiting.
