While Song Heping's team was struggling to survive in the sea of sand, the scene he predicted was playing out in a much more tragic manner just tens of kiloters behind.
Lieutenant Colonel Adams, the SBS Special Forces Commander, and the GNA ard elite pursuers he led had similarly plunged headfirst into the continuously escalating super sandstorm.
At first, they relied on their nurous vehicles and sophisticated equipnt to attempt a forced pursuit.
But when the sand concentration reached a critical point, when fine sand completely clogged the air filters, and when the rampant wind swayed the almost ten-ton armored vehicles, disaster struck.
Reports of stalled engines spread like a plague through the radio channels, instantly drowning out the commander's orders.
"Alpha 1 stalled!"
"Bravo 2 stalled! Unable to restart!"
"Command vehicle! Command vehicle has lost power!"
...
The massive convoy of thousands was paralyzed in the heart of the sandstorm in no ti, as if hit by a petrification spell.
Chaos erupted instantly.
Without the protection of their vehicles, the soldiers were exposed to the savage sandstorm.
Sand grains, sweeping across like buckshot, made it impossible for people to keep their eyes open or maintain their footing.
The enormous sand walls moved, swallowing their vision and their sense of direction.
"Stay put! Find cover on the spot to avoid the sandstorm!"
Captain Don's voice roared over the radio, but the signal was severely disrupted by the sandstorm, breaking intermittently.
Panic spread like wildfire.
Most GNA soldiers were temporarily conscripted, with much less discipline compared to elite units like the SBS.
In the dire situation of lost command and protection, survival instincts overpowered discipline.
So attempted to find shelter on foot but vanished within a few steps into the boundless yellow sand, without a trace.
Even more frightening were the moving sand dunes and quicksand traps.
Several vehicles attempting to move got stuck in the deep sand and were quickly buried halfway.
So soldiers hiding under vehicles were buried alive by suddenly collapsing dunes or moving vehicles.
The chilling screams and desperate shouts were torn apart by the wind, vanishing in an instant.
The sandstorm beca the most fair yet cruel Reaper.
"Stay calm! Gather together and follow your superiors!"
Captain Don tried to control the situation.
But he quickly realized that all his efforts were futile.
With thousands of people in chaos, the scene wasn't sothing a few SBS mbers could control, not to ntion in this environnt full of raging wind and sand, shouts were swallowed by the wind before they traveled ten ters.
In the end, Captain Don could only give up the struggle and organize his small team to shelter from the storm on their own.
The SBS mbers, due to their stronger discipline and survival skills, could barely maintain the assembly of small groups and find rocks or leeward slopes for shelter.
But the GNA troops suffered heavy losses, countless were dispersed, buried, suffocated, or injured in the chaos, unable to move.
Looking at the hellish scene and listening to chaotic pleas and reports over the radio, Major Ali, the highest commander on site of the GNA ard forces, wore a sullen face.
Pursue?
Now it would be a blessing to keep one's life and gather the remaining troops.
Song Heping's small unit seed to have rged with the sandstorm itself, traceless and elusive.
Almost simultaneously, at the MI6 headquarters along the Thas River in London, the atmosphere in the strategic monitoring room was grave.
On the huge screen, the recently overhead reconnaissance satellite transmitted images no longer depicting clear desert terrain and vehicle heat signals.
The screen showed only a boundless, violently swirling yellow-brown vortex. The sandstorm was so vast that it completely obscured all surface details.
Infrared imaging was equally ineffective, as the entire surface temperature had been homogenized by the thick sand dust layer.
"Sir, latest overhead imagery. Sandstorm coverage exceeds expectations, visibility in the central area is zero. Unable to identify any ground targets, including SBS beacons and the Song Heping convoy signals previously marked."
The analyst's voice carried a hint of resignation.
Technical Director Selena stood in front of the screen, her brows furrowed.
Her exquisite makeup could not hide the worry in her eyes.
"Magnify the storm's edge area, attempt to find any abnormal heat sources or movent traces."
"We've tried, sir. No valid information. Sand interference too strong, completely overwhelming the signals."
The analyst shook his head.
Selena was silent for a mont.
"Where was the SBS last reported position?"
"Coordinates reported before losing contact at the storm's central area edge, approximately 15 kiloters from the last observed position of Song Heping's convoy. But currently... it's impossible to determine their exact status and movents."
The analyst pulled up the map, the two flashing red points quickly swallowed by the yellow shadows representing the sandstorm.
Selena took a deep breath.
The sandstorm acted like a colossal curtain, hiding all sights and all sches.
Song Heping and his team, SBS, GNA ard forces, all vanished in this chaos. The situation was utterly out of control, becoming increasingly complex.
"Continue monitoring, report any changes imdiately. anwhile, contact our resources in Tripoli to obtain weather reports and GNA movents."
Direction of Desert City.
This military stronghold on the edge of the Sahara is currently also shrouded in sand, though the intensity is far less than in the depths of the desert.
Sayif stood by the window of the temporary command post, looking at the dim yellow world outside and listening to the sound of the fierce wind slapping against the windows, his face so dark it could drip water.
He had just led ten thousand GNA main force troops here, preparing to serve as the second echelon to pursue and completely crush the audacious rcenary team, and, by Ms. M's orders, take out that damned "Ghost" Song Heping.
However, the news from the front made him furious.
"What? Adams went missing? The forward unit of thousands suffered heavy losses in the Sandstorm, and all vehicles were paralyzed?"
Sayif roared into the phone, "Useless! A bunch of useless people! Can't even catch a remnant group of two hundred!"
The voice from the front-line commander on the other end sounded terrified, "General, the Sandstorm is too big! Unprecedented! Our vehicles can't hold up, and exposing the soldiers outside is a path to death! Major Ali and the others are likely... in grave danger. We can't even think of going outside the city right now, the Sandstorm is intensifying, and visibility is less than a hundred ters—going out is suicide!"
Sayif furiously slamd the receiver onto the phone. He walked to the map, looking at the small dot representing Kurtan Oasis, then back at the raging sands outside the window.
Ten thousand troops, unexpectedly pinned down by an unforeseen Sandstorm, unable to move at all in Desert City.
anwhile, his target, that small team, vanished into the depths of the Sandstorm.
Ti was passing, and the other side could be approaching the oasis or might have already been consud by the Sandstorm.
Either outco left him with a sense of uncontrollable rage and helplessness.
"Order the troops to stand by in Desert City! Fortify the defenses! Send out a few reconnaissance teams to the edge of the sandstorm center, I want to know what's inside! Notify imdiately if there are any signs of weakening!"
Sayif gritted his teeth and issued the order. All he could do now was wait and hope the Sandstorm could complete the task of annihilation for him.
While Sayif waited anxiously in Desert City, the MI6 in London watched blurred satellite images, and Song Heping's team was undergoing a hellish trial.
The sandstorm had not weakened; it had beco even more violent. The wind reached an astonishing level, with grains of sand turning from "bullets" into "shells."
The stretcher crew carrying the "Hunter" was blown over several tis by the fierce wind. The team mbers had to press down firmly with their bodies to prevent the injured from being swept away by the storm.
People kept falling, only to be dragged up again by ropes.
Drinking water beca incredibly precious, but every sip carried the risk of being filled with sand.
Many had lips cracked and bleeding, their throats burned like fire.
Just as the team was on the brink of collapse, with many chanically moving their feet and nearly giving up hope, the scout "Wrench" suddenly used all his strength to shout through the sand, "Boss! Ahead... there's sothing!"
Song Heping's spirits were lifted as he struggled to the front of the team.
Indeed, the hurricane that had been tearing them apart seed to show a faint gap. Visibility miraculously returned to twenty or thirty ters.
He looked in the direction "Wrench" pointed.
Amid the swirling sand curtain's edge, a massive, oddly-shaped black silhouette faintly appeared! It wasn't a sprawling sand dune; it was... weathered rocks!
"It's a rock area! A windbreak! Hurry! Everyone! Target the rock area! Move faster!"
Song Heping's voice, distorted by excitent and hoarseness, was like a strong stimulant injected into the dying team.
The desire to survive extracted their last bit of strength. The team erupted in astonishing speed, stumbling toward the brown rocks appearing miraculously through the storm.
Only when they got closer did they see, it was a sizeable weathered rock area.
The massive rocks, eroded over millions of years by wind and sand, ford honeycomb-like holes, deep cracks, and intertwined windward faces.
"Hurry! Find low-lying sheltered rock crevices! Place the wounded first!"
Song Heping commanded authoritatively.
The team mbers, like travelers discovering an oasis, crazily searched for shelter among the rocks.
They squeezed into giant rock crevices, curled up in sunken stone nests, using the protruding rock masses to block the fierce wind.
Although sand still poured in through various gaps, blinding them, it was heaven compared to the cataclysm outside.
Song Heping personally directed the placent of the "Hunter" and the severely injured in the deepest, most wind-sheltered cave, using anti-sand cloth and anything available to block the holes where wind poured in.
Others also quickly used the terrain and carried equipnt to reinforce their temporary shelters.
When the last team mber found a hiding spot, collapsing onto the cold rocks to breathe deeply, the sandstorm outside, as if to prove Song Heping's wise choice of location, let out an even more ear-deafening roar.
The wild wind surged up even larger waves of sand, slamming them fiercely against the rock area's periphery, emitting deep, terrifying rumbles.
The whole rock area seed to vibrate slightly. Sand poured down like a waterfall from the tops of the rocks.
But those sheltered by the rocks felt only the residual power of the torn wind.
Backed against the hard, cold stone, their minds surged with a sense of relief and exhaustion from escaping a near-death situation, as they listened to the doomsday-like roar outside.
Sand still filled the air, causing persistent coughing, but at least, for now, they wouldn't be blown away or buried alive.
Resting in a large rock depression, his mask torn off, Song Heping greedily inhaled relatively "clean" yet dust-laden air.
He wiped the sand off his face, revealing tired yet eagle-sharp eyes as he scanned the team mbers in the crevices and stone nests, breathing, coughing, checking on each other.
The over two hundred people, though in a wretched state and exhausted, still retained their core strength.
"Count the numbers! Check the injured! Conserve water! Wait out the storm!"
His voice, resonating through the rocks, was especially steady and forceful.
They were temporarily safe.
In this ancient weathered rock fortress deep in the Sahara, they found a chance to catch their breath.
And outside, the world-devouring sandstorm and the pursuers trapped by it beca their most unexpected shield at the mont.
Song Heping looked at the rolling, despair-inducing ochre outside the rock cave, a cold smile curled at the corner of his lips.
This reckless struggle against nature, the land, and people was far from over.
Kurtan Oasis, that last hope, still awaited them on the other side of the storm.
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