Late at night, the Mannier Valley District was imrsed in the dead silence of past two o'clock in the morning.
A crescent cold moon hung in the sky, casting a pale glow that struggled to penetrate the thick shadows deep within the valley.
The cold wind swept across the rocky ridge, producing a low moan that added a chilling murderous air to the black night.
Song Heping and Hunter were enacting a ticulously orchestrated "escape" amidst this treacherous terrain cloaked in darkness.
Utilizing the ghostly green vision provided by their night vision goggles, each step they took was a calculated "hurry."
This was no blind rush; it was a deliberate draw, a high-stakes gamble where they were the bait themselves.
The "escape" route had been carefully set by Song Heping long beforehand.
The winding corners of the valley allowed for brief monts out of the pursuers' sight, and the heavily weathered rocky ridges cast twisted and ferocious shadows under the moonlight, providing cover for the two but also leaving behind scratch marks that were hard to completely erase, continuously guiding the relentless pursuing U.S. special operations team and Kurdish people behind them.
Both of them donned the ghillie suits that had long been prepared in their backpacks, which could block most infrared radiation. Individual body temperature remained high due to the intense activity, posing a significant danger under the infrared detection of drones, a signal they needed to cautiously hide.
"Hunter, three o'clock direction, that rocky slope."
Song Heping's voice was low and steady, his breathing rhythm impressively controlled even at a full run, showcasing incredible endurance and lung capacity.
His gaze pierced through the four-lens night vision goggles, sharply scanning the green-hued world ahead and on the flanks, his mind rapidly processing terrain, wind direction, pursuer positions, and... how to leave the perfect "gift."
This was a skillful task.
You had to stay out of the pursuers' sight, yet not completely lose them.
Hunter did not respond, only nodding once.
Years of fighting side by side had made their hearts and minds synchronized.
The rocky slope ahead had a gradient exceeding sixty degrees, littered with loose rock fragnts of varying sizes.
For a sniper seeking concealnt, this place was absolutely off-limits; every step would create sounds that traveled far in the silent night and leave unmistakable traces.
But at this mont, for baits needing to occasionally be "seen" and "tracked," it was undoubtedly the perfect waypoint to the destination.
The two exerted force almost simultaneously, pushing off to "dash" up the rocky slope.
The tactical boots treaded a cascade of noise in the dead of night, countless rocks tumbling, leaping, and colliding down the steep slope, forming a clear, moving trace, like an eye-catching arrow drawn across a gray canvas.
"Traces are obvious! They've climbed the east side rocky slope! Just left recently!"
Soon, the vanguard of the first "razor" team to track there discovered these practically flagrant signs and imdiately reported to Captain Langsen via a personal radio.
He crouched at the foot of the slope, vigilantly scanning the surroundings with his panoramic night vision goggles, wary of possible sniper shots.
Captain Langsen quickly caught up, kneeling on one knee on the cold rock, gently brushing a piece of shale fragnt, freshly crushed by a boot, with his tactical gloves, then looking up towards the slope's peak, where a hint of disturbed dust seed to linger.
"They seem in a hurry...but, the tracks seem a bit too 'generous'..."
A sliver of professional doubt flashed across his mind. As a veteran of nurous hunt and counter-hunt missions, he instinctively sensed a hint of discordance—their fleeing appeared to carry a guiding intent.
However, the indisputable command from Major Jas over the radio and a deep-seated desire to complete the mission swiftly overshadowed this doubt.
Besides, they had over two hundred Kurdish Company soldiers in tow.
In terms of manpower, they were overwhelmingly dominant over the opposition.
Furthermore, there was drone support from above.
Even with a slight risk, it was worth taking.
"Continue tracking! Stay at high alert! A group left flank, B group right flank, advance with alternating cover! Watch for trap mines and side ambushes! They seem to be deliberately guiding us..."
He decisively issued the order.
The "Razor" team imdiately began operating like a precision killing machine.
The six-man group instantly split into two three-man tactical formations, advancing upwards along the relatively stable regions on either side of the rocky slope with proficient alternating cover maneuvers.
Their movents, aided by night vision goggles, were silent, the muzzles of their guns following their line of sight, aid at every potential threat corner.
In the sky, that silent Grim Reaper—Death God-2 UAV, hovered at fifteen thousand feet high.
Its high-resolution electro-optical ball and infrared sensor, like the eyes of God, firmly locked onto this area.
The terminal screen on Langsen's arm displayed real-ti thermal imaging and low-light enhancent images transmitted back by the UAV, with every rise and fall, every rock, and any possible residual traces on the terrain forming contrasts.
"Command, 'Death God-2' reporting, target continues moving towards the northwest direction in the heart of the Mannier Valley at a speed of about seven kiloters per hour. No signs of reception personnel or pre-set positions detected. Nightti thermal sources are distinct, but terrain interference is severe, exposure ti is too short, unable to effectively lock onto for attack."
The drone operator's calm voice resonated in the channel at the rear command post.
Major Jas, seated in the command chair, stared at the two distinctly prominent heat source signals representing Song Heping and Hunter on the cold background on the large screen, a confident smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
"Do they think they can shake us off using the night and terrain? Naive! Langsen, keep a close watch! Kurdish Company, imdiately flank and encircle from left and right, compress their space, force them into a deadly position!"
He did not realize that the two heat sources on the screen were actually Song Heping and his rcenary buddies.
He still assud his current opponent was a Russian special forces unit.
Had he known it was Song Heping, maybe Jas would have been more cautious.
But, unfortunately, there is no "if" on the battlefield.
With Jas' order given, a large number of local Kurdish ard personnel, like driven sheep, began clamoring along the ridgelines on either side, accelerating in movent.
Although their training and discipline couldn't compare to the "Razor" team, they were familiar with every blade of grass and tree here, nurous like a large and rough net, working in tandem with "Razor," the sharp spearhead, attempting to completely enshroud their prey.
The pressure, instantly escalated in geotric progression.
"Whoosh—bang!"
A stray bullet, from an unknown direction, struck the weathered listone in front of Hunter.
The warhead sparked and scattered stone shards, its sharp altered whistle vanishing into the distant darkness.
Hunter didn't even lower his head, naturally making a slight evasive maneuver during his run, without disrupting his pace in the slightest.
He imdiately reported to Song Heping nearby: "Kurdish soldiers on the left ridge, four hundred ters, about a platoon, with light machine guns. Night vision equipnt is average."
"Ignore them. Maintain the rhythm."
Song Heping's tone was unwavering, as if those whistling bullets were rely botherso insects in the night.
"If I'm not mistaken, Major Petrovsky should already have 'started the feast,' and we can't allow our 'guests' to miss the main course."
As if to confirm his words, a series of dull explosions, interspersed with the indistinct roar of machine gun bursts, ca faintly from the eastern side of Mannier Valley.
Song Heping and Hunter's "escape" route began to more clearly aim towards that final destination—the center of Mannier Valley, an ancient basin filled with massive weathered rock pillars and deep natural caverns, carefully selected by Petrovsky's squad.
There, would be the climax stage for this death drama.
User Comments
0 comments from readers