"Fire in the hole!"
Northern Darfur, inside the "Musician" defense base building.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Major Eitan's shout was like a drawn blade.
He was the first to crash into the swirling smoke, his body crouched low, pressed tightly against the cold tal door fra, with the stock of his X95 assault rifle firmly braced against his shoulder.
In the eerie green vision of the night vision goggles, the pervasive dust resembled murky ghostly shadows.
Behind him, the elite mbers of the "Poison Fang" and "Poison Snake" teams burst in like arrows, maneuvering in the drilled "cut-room" formation, with the red dots from infrared lasers sweeping swiftly and steadily through every corner of potential lurking death, like the tongue of a snake.
Puff puff puff—
Bang bang bang—
Puff puff puff—
The sound of different guns firing through silencers echoed, especially eerie amidst the smoke-filled command center.
"Clear!" A short, forceful confirmation from the left side.
"Clear!" The voice from the right side followed imdiately.
"Left corridor secured!"
"Right room cleared!"
Short reports echoed one after another on the encrypted channel, carrying a forcibly suppressed excitent. The anticipated lethal crossfire didn't occur.
The corridor was unnervingly empty, with the doors of offices on both sides wide open, like gaping dark mouths.
Papers scattered on the ground, chairs overturned, and lingering traces of tear gas mixed with the faint burnt scent from overloaded electronic equipnt painted a picture of a hasty evacuation.
The target was just ahead—a thick tal door marked "Strategic Command Center" with independent reinforced structure stood at the end of the passage like the final fortress.
That must be Song Heping's room!
Eitan's heart pounded beneath his tactical vest.
Adrenaline surged through his veins—the thrill and restlessness of a hunter closing in on the ultimate prey.
He signaled his teams to alternate cover, tactical boots making slight but swift sounds on the cold floor like a deadly swarm of ghosts, rushing precisely towards the door along the central passage.
The demolitions expert moved forward once more, as fast as lightning.
A strip of plastic explosive was ticulously placed at the lock and hinge points.
As the team mber stuck the explosives to the door, a flicker of unease flashed through Major Eitan's mind.
Too quiet...
Too quiet to be true...
Shouldn't the command center be crowded with people?
Even if the main force left the base to fend off the enemy at the border, there should still be technical and staff personnel here...
Could the "Musician" defense company be so unreliable?
No communication or basic staff mbers?
"Fire in the hole!"
The demolitions expert's shout interrupted Major Eitan's wandering thoughts.
The second explosion bood dully, sending a new wave of smoke rolling. The tal door twisted inward, groaned, and finally collapsed with a clang, revealing the tumult behind it.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Ti allowed Major Eitan no further musings.
The situation was critical.
His shout carried a do-or-die resolve, and he charged first into the rolling smoke.
Several gun barrels closely followed behind, the infrared dots weaving a deadly net through the dense smoke.
Puff puff puff—
Puff puff puff—
Puff puff puff—
Dull gunfire rang out densely.
Major Eitan dared not be complacent, knowing well who his adversaries were; he planned to leave no survivors.
Even obtaining Song Heping's corpse would be a success!
The smoke slowly descended.
The eerie green vision of the night vision goggles gradually clarified the room's outline.
The massive strategic command table stood silently in the center, with only a few standby indicator lights weakly flickering like dying fireflies.
The main screens were pitch black and lifeless.
On the control table lay scattered empty coffee cups and chaotic docunts.
These devices left Major Eitan astonished.
How did a private defense company manage to acquire such advanced equipnt?
It seed the intelligence reports were accurate.
This Song Heping wielded imnse power, seemingly richer than nations.
By the table in the middle of the command post, a chair lay askew, as if its owner had rushed up monts before. There was no target, no guards, not even a hint of living presence.
Deathly silence.
An overwhelming, cold silence instantly seized the throats of each assault team mber.
Only their own heavy breathing and the sound of tactical boots treading on small debris resonated, magnified countless tis, in this vast, eerie emptiness.
"Report..."
A team mber's voice sounded on the encrypted channel: "Command center... seems empty... sothing's not right..."
Eitan's facial muscles stiffened instantly; the fervent, soon-to-be-crowned fla of victory was doused with a bucket of ice-cold water, solidifying into a surreal stupor.
His fingers clutching the X95 turned pale from excessive force, slightly trembling. A cold chill, not from the air conditioning, but exploded from the depths of his spine, freezing his rushing blood.
Trap!
Those two characters stabbed into his consciousness like an ice pick.
He dashed to the command post, his eyes sweeping frantically like searchlights.
Table!
The table at the center of the command post was covered with docunts!
He almost lunged forward, grabbing a crumpled and discarded file beside him.
The paper was ice-cold.
His eyes quickly skimd over the contents of those docunts, trying to find so clues.
However, when he opened the first folder and revealed the white paper inside, his pupils shrank instantly.
There was a line of English on the paper - Welco to the trap!
Fooled!
It really is a trap!
"No... impossible..."
Eitan's voice, hoarse and distorted, squeezed painfully from his teeth.
Cold sweat exploded from every pore, soaking the inner lining, the icy stickiness clinging to the skin.
A massive fear of being toyed with gripped him like an invisible icy hand, choking his throat, making it almost impossible to breathe.
They weren't Hunters, but foolish insects that had crashed into Song Heping's web, waiting for prey!
That ghostly adversary must be in so absolutely safe shadow, watching their futile struggle with icy mockery, also watching the deceived "audience" before satellite screens thousands of kiloters away!
He subconsciously looked up, seeing the caras installed in various corners of the command center.
The air in the command center seed to solidify into lead, heavily pressing on the chest of every "Alpha" team mber, making each breath incredibly difficult.
Major Eitan's fingers gripped the icy docunt tightly, knuckles popping, eyes shrinking behind the ghostly green night vision goggles, staring at the glaring English words.
His mind went blank, leaving only the sharp, collapsing sirens screeching madly in the depths of his consciousness.
Silence was suddenly torn apart!
"Falcon! Falcon! This is 'Shadow Snake'!"
The voice of the sniper team observer suddenly sounded in the channel.
"Base periter! Southeast, northwest direction! Large heat source signals! Moving fast! It's an ard convoy! Too many of them! They're back! Damn! It's a trap! We're surrounded! Coordinates marked!"
Boom——!!!
The warning from "Shadow Snake" hadn't faded, yet a series of muffled, earth-rumbling explosion sounds erupted!
The sound ca from different directions in the base, like heavy drumsticks pounding on the heart, followed by a heart-palpitating, continuous trembling in the concrete ground beneath the feet!
From the sound, it seems like pre-set Claymore mines or IEDs have been triggered!
The encrypted channel was suddenly flooded with terrified screams:
"Report! Entrance B Zone! Heavy machine gun fire! RPG! We're pinned down!"
"Report! Corridor C Zone! Predesignated cross-fire point! Damn! We're nailed! Requesting support!"
The piercing screeches of bullets hitting concrete and tal, the roaring explosions, the suppressed fury of the assault team mbers, and the painful grunts of the injured...
All sounds mixed together and crazily flooded into everyone's eardrums through the headset, tearing at their nerves.
Outside was no longer a ticulously arranged empty city, but a suddenly boiling, death-roaring, massive slaughterhouse!
"Trap! It's a trap!"
Major Eitan's eyes were bloodshot as he roared beast-like into the microphone, his voice completely twisted and deford by extre fear and rage.
"Retreat! Full retreat! Execute 'severed tail' plan! Disperse and break out! Now!!"
What decapitation, what perfect infiltration, all were bait thrown out by Song Heping!
They were like a group of stupid fish falling into the net!
He turned sharply, his body erupting with desperate strength, kicking the heavy command chair beside him, trying to find fragile cover or a slim exit in the empty room.
"Watch out above!!!"
A team mber following closely behind Eitan issued an ear-piercing warning, diving at Eitan like a cannonball!
Da-da-da-da-da——!!!
At the sa mont when the team mber's body hit Eitan, knocking him down, the only intact vent cover on the main screen wall of the command room snapped open!
A pre-mounted remote-controlled Minigun suddenly revealed its nacing fangs!
Six cold barrels spun rapidly, emitting a nerve-wracking, low hum like a spinning wheel in Hell!
Then, a terrifying long fire tongued half a ter long spewed out ferociously! A chain of 7.62mm rounds woven into an inescapable storm of steel at the rate of thousands per minute, sweeping through the entire command room instantly!
Puff-puff-puff-puff-puff——!!!
The muffled sound of bullets penetrating bodies was as dense as the drumbeat of the Grim Reaper, indistinguishable.
The walls shattered, flying debris and concrete dust filled the air; expensive control panels were riddled with holes, sparks flying; precision electronic devices burst apart;
The human body...
In front of the raging tallic flood, as fragile as paper.
Lying on the ground, Eitan's cheek and neck were instantly splattered with scorching liquid — whether warm blood or the molten fluid of blasted electronic components.
The team mber pinned beneath him convulsed violently, uncontrolled jets of warm blood gushed, soaking Eitan's combat uniform, the intense sll of blood flooding his nostrils.
"No——!!!"
Eitan let out a desperate cry amid the bloody pool and tallic debris.
Above him, the cold remote-controlled machine gun continued spinning, roaring, persistently spewing destruction flas, shredding, mixing, and completely reducing the last elite of Mossad's "Alpha" action team along with their fantasy of decapitation into fluttering blood and flesh powder.
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