"Confird, about an hour ago, three heavy armored vehicles passed through here. The wheel marks are deep and wide, exactly matching the traces left by those who killed our surveillance team at the pass before. They headed north."
Omar's face was grim as he turned and took a crumpled military map from his deputy's hand, spreading it out on the hood.
His rough fingers traced across the map; the southern Al-Hasakah Province is a vast, flat Gobi desert, almost impossible to defend, with no place to hide.
His finger eventually stopped at the northern Gunei Mountain Area.
"Northward... Gunea Mountain."
Omar muttered to himself, then sneered, "That's right, only there can hide these few rats."
Next to him, his deputy, a middle-aged man with a big beard, showed concern: "Emir, further north of the Gunei Mountain Area is the control zone of the Kurdish heretics. Although it's considered a buffer zone, we've had constant conflicts with them over the past year, if a large army presses forward, perhaps..."
"Perhaps what?!"
Omar abruptly interrupted him, fierce light gleaming in his eyes, "Kurd people? A bunch of pathetic wretches relying on the Arican's handouts! Do they deserve to be called warriors? Gunei Mountain Area has never been their territory! Allah above, this land belongs to the Caliphate! Belongs to us!"
He spat, openly showing his disdain for the Kurd people.
In the eyes of 1515, this extremist ideologically ard group, everyone not of their kind is heretical, and the Kurd people are also targets to be eradicated.
"But our target is that Russian team, if conflict arises with the Kurd people, it might divert our force..." the deputy tried to persuade again.
"Enough!"
Omar roughly waved his hand, "Find that Russian team, take whatever they might be carrying, hang their corpses or directly decapitate them, that's how to beco famous, that's the primary task! If the Kurd people dare to intervene, send them to the Fire Hell along with them!"
He disregarded his deputy's concerns, directly ordering the signalman: "Connect to the highest leader Buckdadi's headquarters!"
After a brief wait, the radio connected.
Omar, speaking at the fastest speed, reported the situation and his judgnt, emphasizing the discovery of a "highly valuable target," requesting reinforcents.
On the other end of the radio, Buckdadi's voice was calm and authoritative: "Abu Omar, my brother, your judgnt is correct. Allah's warriors fear nothing. I will imdiately order all mobilizable forces in Al-Hasakah Province, at least two thousand warriors, to gather in the Gunei Mountain Area under your command. Go ahead, let the heretics witness the blade of Allah!"
Receiving the highest leader's approval and promise of reinforcents, Omar's heart settled, his face twisted into a fierce smile.
He jumped into the car, drew his pistol from his waist, and fired a shot into the sky with a "bang," attracting all his subordinates' attention.
"Warriors of Allah!"
He shouted hoarsely, "The prey is ahead! Northward, Gunea Mountain! Follow , catch up with them, use their blood to wash away the sha of our sacrificed brothers! For the Caliphate!"
"Allahu Akbar!" More than four hundred ard militia shouted in unison, their voices echoing across the desolate Gobi desert sky.
Engines roared to life, producing ear-piercing rumbles. The massive, chaotic convoy, like a waking desert beast, kicked up even larger dust clouds, and surged crazily towards the northern Gunei Mountain Area.
East of the Gunei Mountain Area, just a few kiloters away.
Three Typhoon-K anti-ambush vehicles with camouflage paint were speeding frantically across the uneven Gobi at over seventy kiloters per hour.
The massive vehicle bodies jolted, raising dust dragons behind them.
Song Heping tightly gripped the compartnt handrails, his body swaying with the vehicle's jolts.
The atmosphere inside the vehicle remained extrely tense; after all, before entering the Gunei Mountain Area, driving on this open Gobi steppe, the target was too obvious.
Everyone knew that discovery was just a matter of ti.
Suddenly, Aleksey, the SSO team mber responsible for electronic reconnaissance, spoke on the radio channel with a hint of anxiety:
"Alert! Detected airborne radar signal... it's a drone! Altitude about 5000 ters, direction southeast, speed... very fast! Continuously approaching us!"
"Suka! We've still been discovered!"
Petrovsky reflexively stood up, then squeezed through the car roof hatch, half his body out, picking up binoculars and looking in the direction Aleksey reported.
In the high-magnification binoculars' view, against the blue sky background, a tiny, cross-shaped black dot moved steadily and lethally, flickering under the thin high-altitude clouds.
The distinctive wing and tail structure, Petrovsky was all too familiar with.
"Suka, it's the Arican 'Grim Reaper'!"
He ducked back into the vehicle, face as anguished as constipation, orders imdiately transmitted through the vehicle's communication system to everyone's ears.
"Attention everyone! We've been targeted by the 'Grim Reaper'! Maximum alert! All vehicles increase speed, enter the Gunei Mountain Area in the shortest ti!"
"Damn! We've still been discovered by the Aricans!"
Machine gunner Volkov cursed as he poked his body through the machine gun slot on the roof, checking the large-caliber machine gun covered in dust, took off the safety and loaded the bullets, aiming the gun muzzle towards the drone's direction in high air.
Of course, he knew that doing so was mostly pointless.
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