In just three days, ti flew by as swiftly as a bullet leaving the chamber.
Song Heping's left shoulder wound, under the dual effects of potent dication and his robust constitution, had mostly healed, though exertion still caused faint, lingering pain, it no longer hindered his movents.
Naxin arrived as promised, bringing with him the list of equipnt and a thick stack of encrypted intelligence files as promised by Avanti.
Song Heping carefully examined the list.
Night Vision Equipnt: Persian-made binocular night vision devices, along with a small number of Russian-made 1PN93 thermal imaging scopes.
Anti-armor Weapons: Russian-made RPG-29 "Vampire" anti-tank rocket launchers, as well as large quantities of RPG-7V2 rockets and PG-7VR tandem warhead rockets.
There were also several Russian-made Kornet-EM or Persian-made "Dehlavieh" anti-tank missile systems.
In terms of sniper rifles, there were Russian-made SVDK, paired with PSO series optical scopes.
Machine guns and individual weapons included PKM/PKTM general-purpose machine guns, with sufficient ammunition. Persian-made G3 rifles and a large number of Russian-made F-1 and RGD-5 hand grenades.
Additionally, there was a large amount of Russian-made plastic explosives (similar to C4) and detonation devices.
From this list, it was clear that there were still significant underground transactions between Persia and Russia, and being able to provide so much good equipnt also demonstrated Avanti's sincerity, with equipnt levels not inferior to the existing standards of the Revolutionary Guard.
It seed that Avanti indeed had a great interest in the crucial strategic region of Northwest Illinois.
"The General said the equipnt would be shipped in batches through secret channels once you arrive, with the first batch reaching near Samir's controlled area within five days."
Naxin reported from the side.
Song Heping nodded, quickly flipping through the intelligence.
The docunts detailed the latest troop deploynts of 1515 in Northwest Illinois, main leaders' activity patterns, known supply routes, and…
So alarming reports of atrocities.
The intelligence on Samir's "Eligo Liberation Force" corroborated Song Heping's previous understanding—its situation was extrely dire, with its controlled area squeezed into a narrow, barren mountainous and desert region in the northern Anbar Province near the Siria border, sparsely populated with scarce resources, constantly facing suppression by 1515.
"What about the money… or rather, the oil?" Song Heping closed the file.
"It's already arranged."
Naxin handed over an encrypted satellite phone and a note with a complex string of codes.
"Use this to contact a person nad 'Haji', he's our key figure on the… uh, special trade line. Give him this code, and he will arrange for you to receive an oil quota equivalent to one hundred million US dollars. How to ship it out and cash it, you'll have to figure out yourself. The General warns that this route is very sensitive, so you have to act fast and clean."
Song Heping took the phone and the note, carefully storing them away.
He knew this was a real hot potato, but it was also the lifeline desperately needed by Samir.
Originally, he could have provided this money himself.
But using the Persians' money was more cost-effective.
"Let's go."
Song Heping shouldered a heavy tactical backpack filled with essential equipnt and dicine. "Ti to et our young friend."
10 PM.
An unmarked Mi-17 helicopter painted in dark desert camouflage flew at low altitude, skimming the dunes.
Air currents stirred up by the rotor blades whipped up huge clouds of yellow sand, enveloping the aircraft in a moving sandstorm.
Inside the cabin, only the pale green light from the instrunt panel and a few dim red lights could be seen.
Song Heping and Naxin sat by the cabin door, both wearing desert camouflage combat uniforms, their faces thickly painted with camouflage, fully geared.
Another eleven robust warriors crowded in the back of the cabin, silent as rocks, only their eyes flashing with wolf-like gleam in the dim light.
They were Avanti's carefully selected "gift"—the team codenad "Sand Fox."
The violent turbulence was a norm.
Song Heping looked out through the porthole, below was an endless dark desert, with only a few scattered shadows, either abandoned villages or natural landscapes, rapidly receding.
The sand battered against the porthole, making a rustling sound.
The air was filled with the scents of engine oil, sweat, and the dry dust peculiar to deserts.
"Ten minutes until reaching the designated coordinates."
The pilot's voice ca through the headset, carrying a static hiss.
Song Heping's heart slightly tightened.
This was not a vacation, but a leap into a powder keg ready to explode.
He checked the Glock 17 pistol in the quick-draw holster on his chest—it was his personal sidearm—and tightened the tactical scabbard secured to his leg.
The helicopter began to slow down, lowering its altitude further.
A relatively flat expanse of the Gobi Desert appeared below, with a few weak campfires outlining a makeshift landing area in the dark.
"Prepare for landing!"
Naxin shouted hoarsely, instantly tightening the atmosphere inside the cabin.
The soldiers of the "Sand Fox" team quickly checked their gear.
The helicopter, like a weary giant bird, slowly landed on the soft sand, the dust storm kicked up by the rotors imdiately engulfing the entire body.
The cabin door was abruptly pulled open, and a biting cold wind mixed with sand particles rushed in.
"Quick! Quick! Quick!"
Naxin jumped down first, quickly establishing vigilance on one side of the cabin door.
Song Heping followed closely, his feet sinking into the soft sand, his vision obscured by the overwhelming dust.
He quickly flipped on the night vision device on his helt, and the scene before him instantly turned into a cold, green world.
He saw several blurry figures rapidly approaching through the dust, moving swiftly, with a clearly cautious stance.
"Over here!"
User Comments
0 comments from readers