Lemont put his coffee cup down on the console, the bottom of the cup knocking against the metal surface with a faint sound.
"But she made the wrong bet." His voice was so light it was almost inaudible.
He looked at the digital clock on the wall.
Red numerals flickered: 23:41.
Nineteen minutes left until the final ultimatum.
"Song Heping isn't afraid of any wanted list, and judging from his past style, he doesn't care about winning or losing a city or a stronghold. If he dares to besiege the base, then he's prepared to go down with us."
Lemont kept talking, more like he was speaking to himself.
"We've driven him into a corner, cut off all his retreat routes, hunted down all his comrades, detained all his men… Now he either climbs the wall to escape, or he knocks it down and crushes us underneath."
He paused, added a line: "He'll definitely choose the latter."
The air in the comms room seemed to congeal.
