I was a prince in the Middle East

Chapter 17 The King Behind the Scenes! A Strategist as Wise as Zhuge Liang!
Almost at the same moment the Bugatti plunged into the sand pit, the Phantom 2000-9 following closely behind was also at its most critical moment!
It has just entered the high-speed gliding phase.

The speed has increased, but it's still a few hundred meters away from takeoff speed!
The F-15s ahead stood like insurmountable steel mountains blocking the middle of the runway.

The Bugatti, which went out of control and crashed into the sand pit, stirred up sand that spilled onto the track, creating even greater obstacles!
The pilot's face drained of all color instantly!
Pulling up? If you haven't reached the 'decisive speed' for takeoff, forcibly pulling up will result in a 100% stall and crash!
Crash it? The plane will be destroyed and everyone on board will die!

The only way out—brake at full throttle!
The pilot used all his strength to push the brake lever to its limit!

Beneath the Mirage 2000's belly, the massive drag chute hatch suddenly sprang open!

But before the parachute could fully inflate and deploy...

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A series of explosions, as dense as firecrackers but even more muffled and loud, erupted from the wheel position!
As expected, all four tires, which had been subjected to tremendous impact and friction, burst instantly!

There's no way around it; it's a feature that all fighter jets come with.

In RTO mode, when the taxiing speed exceeds 167 km/h, and the thrust handle is forcibly moved to the IDLE position, the aircraft will automatically output maximum braking pressure, and all tires will automatically burst simultaneously.

Rubber fragments scattered and flew everywhere like black snowflakes!

The wheel rim, now without a tire, rubbed violently against the rough track, sending up countless blinding sparks! Like a chain of sparks blooming in hell! The immense friction caused the entire machine to tremble and lurch violently! Its speed was plummeting in a devastating manner!

boom!
Unable to withstand the terrifying heat that instantly accumulated, enough to melt gold and iron, the wheel brake disc suddenly burst into flames!
The orange-red flames, like a demon's tongue, instantly licked the belly and landing gear!

Thick black smoke billowed up, enveloping the silver-gray fighter jet!
The Mirage 2000, like a giant steel bird ablaze, struggled and slid painfully on the runway, finally coming to a stop, skewed, less than a few hundred meters from the tail of the F-15 that was gliding ahead, accompanied by a piercing metallic screeching and raging flames!

They have completely lost all ability to move!
The viewers on the platform were dumbfounded.

Bugatti gets stuck in a sand pit, engine destroyed!
Phantom, tire blowout and fire, paralyzing the track!

draw!

A draw that no one could have predicted, and that was achieved in such a devastating way!

The entire viewing platform fell into a deathly silence.

Time seems to have frozen.

Everyone's expression froze on extreme astonishment, bewilderment, and disbelief.

Turki opened his mouth wide, but no sound came out.

His hand, which had just been roaring and cheering for Phantom, now hung limply on the railing.

Muhammad loosened his clenched fist, his face blank with relief and a hint of barely perceptible elation.

The excitement on Prince Bandar's face froze completely, turning into ashen white, his eyes staring blankly at the runway.

However, this deathly silence lasted for less than three seconds!

Woo-la-woo-la-woo-la-

The piercing, alarming fire alarm sounded like a death knell throughout the airport!

The onlookers suddenly noticed that several giant fire trucks had appeared out of nowhere and were rushing toward the Mirage 2000 with sirens blaring.

Boom! Boom!

Thick, high-pressure water jets and snow-white fire-extinguishing foam, like angry white pythons, slammed into the burning belly and landing gear of the fighter jet with a chilling force!
The ear-piercing sound of metal cooling and foam spraying exploded instantly!

Thick white steam mixed with black smoke shot into the sky, instantly engulfing the Mirage fighter jet behind a white wall of fog!
Prince Bandar was dumbfounded upon seeing this.

His airport does have fire trucks, but there's only one, and it's currently parked on the other side of the airport.

Where did these vehicles come from?

Almost at the same second that the fire truck convoy rushed out, several loud explosions suddenly rang out in the passageway below the observation deck.

A Dodge Ram 2500 Power Wagon, adorned with the Ahmed family's golden eagle emblem, roared like a steel behemoth freed from its cage, its engine emitting a deep and violent roar as it smashed through the air and sped off!

In the driver's seat, Prince Ahmed's steward, Vahish, still had that rocky, hard face.

His thick arms gripped the steering wheel firmly, maneuvering this American beast, renowned for its pure power, as if riding a wild steed.

Ignoring everything, it charged straight off the track with a ferocious, crushing force, its front end crashing into the edge of the deep sand pit where the Bugatti was stuck!

The tires churned up sand and dust wildly, creating a deadly sandstorm that blotted out the sky!

A steel cable as thick as a child's arm trailed out from the rear of the vehicle, like a giant steel python poised to pounce!

The rear panel of the cargo bed suddenly slammed down!
Three guards leaped out like agile mountain leopards!

Braving the lingering scorching black smoke from under the Bugatti's hood and the onrushing dust, they fearlessly lunged under the car!

The heavy metal hooks found the tow hooks precisely and quickly in their hands, and with a reassuring click, they locked in place!
The Dodge Ram's powerful HEMI V8 engine instantly unleashed its immense power!

Four wheels, encased in giant off-road tires, sank deep into the sand like iron claws, spinning and digging wildly!
The steel cable instantly stretched into a straight, tense line of death, emitting a sickening metallic groan!

Crunch... crunch...

The Bugatti Veyron was dragged out of the sand pit bit by bit by this pure American brute force!

Just as it was dragged onto relatively hard ground, the Dodge Ram's driver's side door was suddenly pushed open.

The butler, Vakhsh, who had always been as cold and hard as a rock, was like a different person at this moment. He practically tumbled and crawled off the tall driver's seat.

"Your Highness! Your Highness Faisal!"

He staggered to the Bugatti's twisted and deformed cockpit, his calloused hands trembling slightly from the exertion, and roughly grabbed the equally deformed door handle!

"Bang! Bang!"

With a few forceful tugs, he managed to tear open a gap in the sturdy car door!
He leaned over and looked inside. The young master in the driver's seat had wide eyes and his chest was heaving violently, clearly conscious.

Vahsh frantically touched, rummaged through, and examined Faisal's body.

Well, aside from being a bit disheveled, I'm fine!

Although he was covered in dust and dirt, his expensive custom racing suit was stained with sand and oil, his hair was messy, and his face was pale and scraped from shock, he was perfectly fine.

You can even swear at people.

"Damn it! This junk! This mold! What on earth happened?! My Bugatti!"

He cursed and unbuckled his seatbelt, trying to climb out on his own.

Just then, woo-woo-woo!
The piercing siren of an ambulance grew louder as it approached!

An ambulance with flashing blue emergency lights rushed up to us as if timed perfectly, then came to an abrupt stop!

The car door opened, and two medical staff carrying a stretcher quickly jumped out.

Vakhsh gave Faisal absolutely no chance to protest or stay!
Seeing the ambulance arrive, he felt a sense of relief, which was quickly replaced by a deeper sense of urgency.

"Your Highness! Your safety is paramount! Quick! Get in the car and check!"

Without a word, he practically dragged and pulled the prince, who was still cursing and struggling to confront the American pilots, onto the stretcher.

"My car! Wait! Vakhsh! Let me go!"

Faisal's protests were cut off by the ambulance door slamming shut.

Without stopping, the ambulance, its blue roof lights spinning, carried the still-shaken and furious prince away.

Vakhsh stood there, watching the ambulance drive away, his chest heaving violently a few times before slowly calming down.

He lowered his head and patted the thick dust off his robe. The momentary loss of composure and anxiety on his face had vanished without a trace, and he returned to his rock-hard demeanor.

He turned and silently walked toward the Dodge Ram, which was still parked beside the sandpit.

The pickup truck slowly drove away from the rescue site, and stopped when it passed below the main viewpoint platform.

He jumped out of the car and bowed deeply and perfectly in the direction of Walid, facing the top of the observation deck!
On the observation deck.

Walid calmly watched everything unfolding below, including the speeding ambulance and Vahsh's silent yet profoundly weighty bow.

As Vakhsh straightened up, Walid gracefully raised his right hand and gently placed it on his chest where his heart was. At the same time, with an impeccable demeanor, full of the style of an ancient desert nobleman, he slightly but very clearly bowed forward.

One is by the car.

One is on stage.

There are no words.

There are no unnecessary movements.

A deep bow.

He touched his chest and bowed slightly.

In this chaotic airport, in this air filled with smoke, foam, and yellow sand, a tacit greeting and confirmation that only the two of them understood was completed.

The tacit understanding needs no words.

At this moment, Turki finally recovered from his extreme shock.

His gaping mouth snapped shut with a short "Uh!", followed by a complex expression on his face—a mixture of lingering fear, absurdity, and immense relief. "Allah is the Greatest!"

He let out a strange cry and slapped his thigh hard.
"It's...it's really a tie?!"

My...my money! My money didn't go down the drain?!
Ha ha! Walid! Muhammad! We won!

He excitedly turned to look for his brother, his voice trembling with excitement.

And at this time...

Rumble!
A strange sound came from afar.

The onlookers' jaws nearly dropped.

Several infantry fighting vehicles, painted in the distinctive desert camouflage of the Saudi National Guard and with menacing turrets, like mobile steel fortresses, brutally cut into the heart of the airport in a combat wedge formation!

The insignia on the vehicle reflected a cold, deathly gleam under the police lights!
Black military boots surged down like a tide!
The soldiers moved with lightning speed, their roles clearly defined, their guns gleaming coldly, instantly sealing off all passages, controlling the control tower, and seizing key points on the helipad.

One of the two "aces among aces" in the Saudi army, the 1st Mechanized Brigade of the National Guard under Salman's command—

The Iron Camel Corps!

Coming!

The once noisy viewing area instantly fell silent, the eyes of the onlookers cleared, and even the sound of swallowing could be clearly heard.

Every face was etched with undisguised terror.

The Iron Camel Brigade: a spear for external intervention and a shield for suppressing internal rebellions!

Appearing here?

This is……

Quell the rebellion!

Major General Setfeg, the brigade commander, with his towering figure, walked through the crowd separated by soldiers and went straight to Muhammad.

With a crisp salute, Settvergert's voice boomed, "Your Highness! The 1st Mechanized Brigade of the National Guard has arrived! Please give your orders!"

Major General Setifegte's boots struck the ground with a thunderous sound, but Muhammad's throat tightened as if scorched by the desert wind.

He never imagined he would stand at the top of the military command chain.

In the past, he only needed to analyze data and handle municipal affairs at meetings of his father, Crown Prince Salman's, staff.

He was destined to be his brother Turki's assistant in the future.

Even now, following Walid's plan, he did ask his father for command, and his father reluctantly agreed.

But when faced with Setfog's request for instructions, Muhammad was still a little flustered and was momentarily stunned.

Just as his Adam's apple bobbed but he couldn't utter a command, a warm hand pressed against his lower back without him noticing.

Walid's voice pierced his ears like a desert night wind:

"Brother, this is your stage! Make your voice heard!"

These words instantly pierced through the fog!
Muhammad's mind flashed with the blazing eyes of Walid as he slammed the evidence of treason onto the table in the VIP room, the blood-pumping roar of their high-five, and then...

Walid's arrogant attitude today!
Okay, if Walid can do it, why can't I?!

He clenched his teeth, the last trace of hesitation in his pupils replaced by a sharp, razor-sharp edge.

At this moment, he was no longer the "alternate successor" of the Sudri faction, but the sword-wielder of the Crown Prince's will!

"The fighter jet is severely damaged and there is a risk of unknown explosives!"

Muhammad's arm, like a javelin, pierced the phantom 2000-9 in the foamy steam, the sound shattering the deathly silence of the entire arena.
"Immediately protect UAE personnel and ensure their 'absolute safety'!"

"Our engineering team immediately entered the site for emergency troubleshooting and identified the root cause of the malfunction!"

"A cordon will be set up three kilometers from the airport. No one is allowed to enter without my permission! Trespassers will be killed on sight!"

"Within the airport premises, no one may leave without my permission! Anyone who leaves without authorization will be killed on sight!"

"Confiscate all communication devices! Anyone who disobeys will be killed on sight!"

The final command, carrying a bloody and murderous aura, crashed down on Setfregate.

Anyone who obstructs this will be considered a traitor!

I hereby declare my head displayed on a banner, all male members of my family exiled to the Rub' al Khali Desert, and all female members imprisoned forever in the Black Stone Prison!

Muhammad's menacing command was like an icicle piercing boiling oil, causing an uproar on the observation deck!

"What right does he have to detain people?!"

"Several crown princes of the UAE are still alive! Is this an attempt to bring shame upon the kingdom?!"

"God above! This is going to tear apart the last vestiges of royal dignity!"

Amidst a chorus of rebukes, several princes, who were abusing their seniority, slammed their fists on the table, their jeweled scepters thumping loudly against the floor.

Without even lifting his eyelids, Muhammad snatched the M4A1 from the waist of the Setfeggar guard.

Bang bang bang bang!
The scorching hot shell casings clattered onto the marble floor, and the scene fell silent.

Smoke curled around him as Muhammad held his gun to the ground, his eyes colder than the barrel.

"Who else... dares to teach me how to do things?!"

The audience was silent.

Several old princes who were rebuking him for "usurping the throne" were frozen in place by this gaze, their angry rebukes stuck in their throats.

At that tense moment, Vakhsh, covered in sand and dust, silently stepped onto the stage.

At the same time, the chief stewards of the seven Sudri chiefs stepped out from the shadows of the crowd, and the seven figures stood like iron towers on Muhammad's left flank.

Immediately afterwards, the leaders of the nine tribes lifted their robes and stood to Muhammad's right, their gold-inlaid swords drawn half an inch from their sheaths, their hawk-like gazes piercing the entire scene!

The Iron Curtain of Royal Power crashed down!

Before the gasps of the onlookers had even subsided, Walid strolled forward leisurely.

He deftly pried Muhammad's finger off the trigger, snatched the scalding rifle, tossed it to Setforgett, and turned to the trembling nobles with a sneer:
"Is it fun just standing there like an idiot? Why don't you sit down and watch the show!"

He picked up a dusty date from the fruit plate, blew on it, and took a big, crunchy bite. "Eat and drink as you please, what are you standing there for?"

This brazen mockery, ironically, broke through the suffocating feeling.

An old prince with white hair coughed and cursed angrily, his face flushed: "Young people are so impetuous!" But then he slumped back into his velvet chair.

This near-concession served as a signal, and everyone followed suit and took their seats.

Countless gazes swept over Muhammad's murderous eyes, Walid's dates, and the scimitars at the waists of the nine tribes, finally recognizing the reality that the Iron Curtain had descended.

The atmosphere at the scene had returned to normal.

Everyone turned their attention to the racetrack.

At that moment, a squad of fierce Iron Camel soldiers pounced on the Mirage 2000 with lightning speed, forcefully "protectively" taking the terrified UAE pilot away and detaining him to the side!

In the stands, those figures draped in white Emirati robes had faces ashen, like dried dates in the desert, and eyes so sinister they seemed to drip with water.

They clenched their fists tightly under their sleeves, their knuckles turning white, but they gritted their teeth and not one of them uttered a word to condemn this blatant detention of people on "UAE territory"!
This unusual silence stood in stark contrast to their previous elegant and composed demeanor, as if they were detached from the situation.

The onlookers exchanged knowing glances, filled with immense surprise and excitement.

They are not three-year-old children; this silence itself is abnormal.

Given the "insider information" that spread like wildfire among the crowd before the match, doesn't the reaction of the Emiratis at this moment confirm those terrible rumors about dirty deals?
So... it really is true?!
From this perspective, sitting down and watching this grand spectacle personally staged by the core members of the royal family might just be a source of amusement!
Walid remained seated in his wicker chair, as if the earth-shattering scene from just moments before was merely a passing cloud.

He slowly picked up a plump, glossy date from the exquisite silver plate in front of him, put it in his mouth, and chewed it carefully.

At this moment, he had an almost leisurely calm on his face, as if the chaos in front of him had nothing to do with him.

However, he still felt some regret.

One feather fan is missing.

If one were to gently wave a feather fan at this moment, the scene would perfectly illustrate what it means to 'strategize within the command tent' and what it means to 'annihilate enemy ships and forts with a laugh'!
Walid, who had secretly resolved to buy a fan at the Wuhou Temple when he went to China, turned his head slightly, his gaze passing over the excitedly gesturing Turki, and landing on Muhammad.

It must be said that iron and blood are ultimately his instincts...

No wonder he was Muhammad in his previous life, the one who could hang up and beat hundreds of princes!

This kind of ruthless destruction, burning cities and splitting the earth...

I'm definitely only suited to be the man behind the king.

……

(End of this chapter)