Although in the past he had deep grudges with the Kurd people, at this mont, watching the warriors who were also resisting the atrocities of 1515 being besieged and massacred, a strong sense of shared hatred and anger surged through him.
He could even vaguely see through the lens, amidst the explosion's firelight, the silhouette of a Kold Warrior being violently blown into the air by the shockwave, crashing heavily against a broken wall like a kite with a broken string, no longer moving.
The Kurd people, at a nurical disadvantage, clearly understood that they were dood if they stayed put, and they were trying to break through.
A ticulously organized attempt erupted three minutes later.
Three concentrated pickup trucks suddenly burst out from the northwest corner of the ruins, the heavy machine guns and automatic rifles on the vehicles pouring all their ammunition like water at a single point in the encirclent, attempting to forcibly tear open a gap.
About twenty Kurd soldiers followed closely behind the vehicles, charging desperately while shooting rapidly and decisively.
"They're trying to break through!"
Samir murmured, with an unconscious trace of hope and tension in his voice.
However, the commander of 1515 was evidently experienced and seed to have anticipated this.
Just as the Kurd pickups roared out, at least three RPG-7 rockets streaked out from the dunes lying in ambush on the flank, trailing a trail of deadly smoke!
One of them hit the leading pickup's hood directly, the huge explosion could be faintly heard even from over a kiloter away, the entire vehicle was blasted into the air, flipping and crashing to the ground, with burning debris, equipnt, and body parts scattering in all directions.
The tires of another pickup were almost simultaneously blown out by concentrated fire from heavy machine guns, causing the vehicle to spin out of control and overturn, viciously throwing its occupants out.
The third vehicle, though luckily escaping the first wave of deadly interception, was imdiately covered by crossfire from at least two heavy machine guns firing from different directions, riddling the vehicle with many holes, it wobbled and crashed into a short wall, coming to an abrupt halt, then bursting into fierce flas.
The infantry trying to break through instantly lost the cover and fire support of the vehicles, becoming completely exposed on open ground, turning into moving targets.
The firepower of 1515 poured down like a torrential storm, bullets piercing through bodies releasing clouds of blood mist, even under night observation equipnt, it appeared as large eerie greyish-white mists.
Kurd soldiers fell like wheat cut down by an invisible scythe, the wailing screams for a short ti even drowned out the dense gunfire.
A few tried to crawl back or find shelter in shell pits, but on this relatively flat open ground, they were soon completely wiped out by follow-up fire.
This tragic attempt to break through was utterly crushed within just a minute or two, leaving behind only a ground full of burning, twisted tal wreckage, and bodies in varying postures, quickly cooling.
War is always cruel.
Human life is worth nothing in front of hot weapons, as humble as dust.
"Allah… have rcy on them…"
A young guard beside Samir lowered his head in anguish, mumbling prayers, his voice trembling.
Inside the ruins, the resisting firepower noticeably weakened, appearing sparse and disordered.
The militants of 1515 let out more excited and wild howls, their assault becoming even more frenzied.
They began to penetrate the interior of the ruins from multiple directions, the sound of close-range gunfire, explosions, shouts, and screams beca clearer, more chaotic, and heart-pounding.
Song Heping watched all of this with a blank expression, his fingers subconsciously adjusting the telescope's focus, extrely concentrated and calm in analyzing every detail of the battlefield.
He particularly noted that those 1515 militants, even in seemingly frantic charges, maintained a certain crude but effective tactical coordination, so throwing smoke bombs or shock bombs for cover, so providing steady suppressive fire, others quickly advancing to clear.
This was by no ans an ordinary, unruly mob; its core mbers must possess considerable military experience.
The final battle did not last long.
The gunfire within the ruins rapidly thinned out, leaving only sporadic single shots, and soon it fell into complete silence.
Replaced by the victorious shouting and yelling of 1515 militants, and…
A certain chilling sound of tal dragging and coarse shouting and cursing.
In the flickering firelight, it was clear to see so wounded or finally surrendering Kurd soldiers being roughly dragged out from the ruins, or from piles of bodies, forced to kneel in a row on the sandy ground.
Their weapons were confiscated, casually thrown to the side.
Even from a distance, the aura of despair, fear, and the cruelty of victors still penetrated through the cold night air.
Then, a few executioners dressed in black robes, wearing black hoods, as if having erged from hell, appeared.
They held long, curved Swords in their hands, reflecting cold, tallic glints mingled with the firelight.
"No…"
Samir's face turned pale, he abruptly turned his head to look at Song Heping, eyes filled with shock and pleading, his voice slightly altering in pitch due to agitation.
"Boss! They seem like only a few hundred n! We also have thousands here, and including the able-bodied young people who can fight among us, we have several hundred too! If we launch a sudden attack on their flank or rear now, we can certainly catch them off guard! We can save those people! They are all warriors, real warriors fighting against 1515! We cannot just watch them being…"
His words were filled with the passion and compassion of a warrior.
Song Heping's gaze finally moved away from the telescope to Samir.
His face showed no emotion, only a calmness that was almost cold, his gaze as deep and cold as an icy pond.
"No, Samir." Song Heping's voice carried no ripples, yet it held an undeniable decision, "We do nothing. Stay hidden."
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