The night in Desert City was painted a sickly orange-red by shellfire and incendiary bombs.
The air was scorching, laced with acrid smoke that stung the nostrils, mixed with the scent of blood and building dust, forming a suffocating thin mist.
The sound of gunfire was like a never-ending downpour, showering from all directions, tracers weaving a deadly web of fire among the ruins.
General Haftar's last bastion—a half-collapsed municipal building basent on the west side of the city, was heavy with tension, like a lead block.
Under the flickering ergency lights, dozens of faces dirtied with blood and dust were etched with despair and fatigue.
The only background noise was the suppressed groans of the wounded.
Song Heping was half-kneeling over a spread-out map of the city, his finger jabbing forcefully at a section in the southwest corner, nearly piercing the paper.
"Here!"
His voice was hoarse yet carried a penetrating firmness that cut through the outside clamor.
"The GNA's main forces have been drawn to our feint on the east side. The southwestern periter is manned by militia they've just absorbed—poorly equipped, disorganized, with the thinnest defense! This is our only way out!"
General Haftar, leaning against the corner, one arm wrapped in a blood-stained bandage, his face was ashen, but his eyes remained sharp.
He stared at the direction Song Heping was pointing, and nodded slowly: "Past the southwest... there's open Gobi... further south..."
He paused, his voice carrying a faint strand of hope.
"...Is the Sahara... cross it... and there's the border... the road to Northern Darfur!"
"Understood."
Song Heping stood up, his gaze like a hawk sweeping across the remaining mbers of the "Disaster Star" squad and the surviving officers.
"'Viper', 'Anvil', take your n, gather the last two RPG-7s and all the anti-tank hand grenades! Target—southwest corner roadblock and any armored threats! 'Wrench', 'Doc', organize all the wounded who can move, prepare to follow closely! 'Hunter'..."
He looked at Hunter, already heavily bandaged but still holding on.
"You're in charge of the core unit of the general's personal guard, don't leave his side!"
"Yes, boss!"
The response was weak but resolute.
"Move out!"
Song Heping snarled low, grabbing the HK417 leaning against the wall first, pulling back the bolt, the crisp sound of tal clashing distinct in the oppressive space.
The breakout had begun.
They moved like a wounded wolf pack, stealthily through the burning city ruins.
Song Heping was at the front, his figure flickering in and out of the shadows of broken walls and rubble, each pause, each gesture precisely directing the team to avoid sniper shots from high and side positions.
The shouts of GNA fighters and the distinctive "dadada" of AK-47 fire were incessant.
Bullets "whizzed" into the bricks and stones beside them, sparking and scattering fragnts.
"Three o'clock! Rooftop! Machine gunner!"
The shout from "Anvil" of the special operations rcenary unit was like a thunderblast.
Almost simultaneously, a PKM general-purpose machine gun mounted at a second-floor window spewed fire, a rain of bullets showering down, instantly pulverizing a low wall in front of Song Heping, causing two of Haftar's soldiers to collapse with muffled groans.
"Suppress!"
Song Heping rolled to hide behind a load-bearing pillar, instantly setting up the HK417, short, precise shots hitting the window edges, forcing the opponent to retreat.
"'Viper'! RPG! Send him to hell!"
"Viper" had already shouldered the launcher, and at the exact mont when "Anvil's" PKM general-purpose machine gun bellowed loud, temporarily suppressing the enemy's fire with a dense barrage, he lunged out, squeezing the trigger!
Bang——!
A rocket, trailing a fiery orange plu, lashed into the window, exploding into a blistering fireball! The machine gun fell silent, shattered bricks and body parts were tossed out by the blast wave.
"Charge through!"
Song Heping leaped up, leading the rush towards the blasted gap.
The team erupted with roars, pushing forward relentlessly under the sporadic incoming bullets, stepping on the scorching debris and the bodies of their companions.
The southwest corner was within reach! Ahead, a crude barricade of sandbags, abandoned vehicles, and barbed wire blocked the way, behind which dozens of GNA fighters were shooting wildly from cover.
Even more troubling, an ard pickup truck mounted with a DShK 12.7mm heavy machine gun was roaring in from the flank, its black muzzle like the eyes of the Grim Reaper!
"Heavy machine gun pickup! Eleven o'clock!"
"Wrench's" voice carried a hint of terror.
"Damn it! RPG!"
"Viper" shouldered the launcher again, but just as the loader beside him handed over a rocket, he was cut down by a barrage of heavy machine gun bullets, his upper body nearly blasted apart, the rocket slipping to the ground.
Despair lood instantly!
"Cover !"
A roar rang out as the burly "Anvil" ditched the PKM with its expended ammo chain, charging at the fallen rocket like a raging rhino!
The heavy machine gun bullets chased at his heels, kicking up dust and debris from the ground.
He grabbed the rocket, and without a glance, relying on sheer arm strength and battlefield intuition, hurled it with all his might at the speeding pickup as if throwing a javelin!
This was a suicidal gamble!
The rocket traced a less-than-perfect arc in the air but miraculously struck the sand in front of the pickup's hood!
Boom——!
The violent explosion didn't hit the vehicle directly, but its shockwave and shrapnel instantly flipped the pickup over!
The heavy machine gun twisted into the air, and the fighters onboard were flung out, screaming.
"Great job!"
Song Heping's blood surged, seizing this golden opportunity.
"Everyone! Hand grenades! Clear the way!"
The survivors hurled their last hand grenades—including both defensive F1s and offensive RGD-5s—like rain towards the GNA position behind the barricade.
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