Within the Kurdish Control Zone, inside the US Army command post.
Major Jas sat in the command chair, a chill running up his spine repeatedly.
The midnight chill of the Mannier Valley had already perated his bones through the screen and radio.
On the large screen, the dots representing both friend and foe flashed, intertwined, and vanished wildly, with icons of explosions appearing in quick succession.
These were no longer cold electronic signals; it was his most elite "Razor" squad struggling in blood and fire, a military disaster unfolding in real ti.
"Pawns... we've all beco pawns..."
This thought swirled in his mind like a nightmare.
He, a dignified Major in the US Special Forces, was lured step by step by a group of Russian special soldiers he considered prey into this ticulously designed death trap, and personally ignited the fuse of the lee with the 1515 Ard.
But now it was too late to back out, they could only brace themselves to fill this bottomless pit with more resources and blood.
In the central basin of Mannier Valley, the infernal scene intensified in the early morning darkness.
The "Razor" squad and the Kurdish Company, relying on superior equipnt and tactical skills, indeed inflicted heavy casualties on the chaotic charging 1515 Ard during the initial phase.
Precise shots and machine-gun fire reaped lives like a scythe.
But the nurical advantage and the death-defying posture driven by fanatic belief of the 1515 militant soon showed its might.
They surged like a tide, one wave falling, another wave rising.
Although their formations were chaotic and shooting accuracy was low, the firestorm created by hundreds of AK rifles, combined with large-caliber machine guns and mortars carried into the mountains by donkeys, still held terrifying suppressive power.
Various bullets and shells pounded around the US Army and Kurdish positions without pattern, with the shockwaves and shrapnel of explosions continuously compressing their operational space.
"Suppress that machine gun point on the left! B Group, report casualties!"
Over the radio, Captain Langsen's voice ca through hoarse.
He had just taken down a 1515 mber attempting to get close and throw a grenade with a precise three-shot burst, with the scorching shell cases bouncing off the icy rocks, making a slight "sizzling" sound.
"Two light injuries in B Group, ammunition consumption at forty percent!"
"The Kurds can't hold it! Their right-wing is retreating!"
Langsen's heart sank.
The situation he feared most was happening.
The combat will of the Kurdish was rapidly collapsing in the face of absolute nurical disparity and brutal casualties.
"Command! We need air support! Large-scale, blanket coverage! Now! Imdiately!"
He almost roared into the microphone, "Their mortars are test-firing! Once they set up, we're done for!"
As if responding to his call, the "Death God-2" UAV in the high sky demonstrated its high-altitude attack prowess.
Whoosh—
Boom!
An AGM-114 "Hellfire" missile, with deadly precision, plunged into the location of a 1515 mortar group that had just begun firing.
The flas shot into the sky, instantly tearing apart the old mortar and several gunners around it.
"Nicely done!"
A mber of the "Razor" squad couldn't help but growl.
The UAV operator's calm voice sounded again: "'Death God-2' has cleared a mortar position. Continuing to identify high-value targets."
In the following ten-plus minutes, the "Hellfire" missiles beca the most effective slaughter tools on the battlefield.
They fell one after another, precisely obliterating several 1515 heavy machine gun positions and RPG shooter gatherings that attempted to take shape.
Each explosion temporarily relieved the pressure on a corner of the "Razor" squad, creating brief voids in the 1515 militants' frenzied onslaught.
Song Heping and others hidden among the rock crevices could clearly hear the distinctive, muffled yet deeply penetrating explosion sound upon missile impact, and even feel the slight vibrations from the rocks below.
"The Aricans have started using drones to clear the field."
Hunter observed the distant rising flas through a tiny gap in the rocks with binoculars, speaking in a flat tone.
"They're struggling."
Major Petrovsky leaned against the rock wall with closed eyes, as if enjoying a symphony.
"Using hundreds of thousands of U.S. Dollars per missile to kill what might only be worth a few dozen bullets of enemy. This business, the Aricans can afford, but their mindset will crumble."
Song Heping said nothing, quietly assessing the battlefield situation based on the approximate explosion sounds.
There was no excitent on his face, only profound calmness.
Everything was progressing as he anticipated.
Panic, misjudgnt, anger, like catalysts, would make this lee burn even more fiercely.
On the northwestern side of the basin, Abu Omar hid behind a giant rock, watching helplessly as his laboriously organized several offensives were smashed to pieces by precise attacks from the sky, almost choking on rage.
"Damn Aricans! Despicable liars! A trap! This is a trap!"
He waved his pistol, shouting hoarsely into the satellite phone, his face mixed with gunpowder smoke, sweat, and extre anger.
"There's no Russian squad! Everything was set up by the Aricans! They want to wipe us out here!"
He was utterly convinced of his judgnt.
How could those well-equipped, tactically cunning enemies with drone support be Russians?
This was clearly the usual trick of the US Special Forces!
Tonight's events, from the ambush in the eastern channel to the lure in the center of the valley, were all a massive conspiracy targeting him, Abu Omar, and the 1515 Ard!
"Yassin! Where are your reinforcents?! I don't care what thods you use, in half an hour, I want to see you appear in the valley!"
Omar shouted at the trusted general on the other end of the phone, his eyes bloodshot.
By "everyone," he ant the main forces he had urgently gathered from several nearby strongholds earlier.
The reinforcents numbered over two thousand!
Though many of them were undertrained militian, the sheer number was in itself a formidable power.
About half an hour later, more torches and vehicle lights appeared on the horizon of Mannier Valley, the noisy human voices and engine sounds at tis overwheld the gunfire on the battlefield.
A dark mass of people, like a migrating swarm of locusts, poured into the edge of the basin from the northwest direction and swiftly engaged in combat.
"Command... command post! 'Razor' calling! Situation urgent!"
Captain Langsen watched as the screen of the thermal imaging device beca densely packed in an instant, the red dots almost covering the whole northwest region, with a voice carrying a faint tremor.
"1515's reinforcents have arrived! God... the number... the number might exceed two thousand! I repeat, over two thousand! We're completely surrounded!"
In the rear command post, Major Jas listened to this report, suddenly seeing black before his eyes and nearly fainted.
Two thousand people!
This was far beyond what the "Razor" squad and Kurdish Company could handle, even beyond the scope of conventional firefights!
"Langsen! Hold on! Air support is on its way! I guarantee it with my rank!"
Jas almost shouted as he suddenly turned to the communications officer, "CAS?! Where's our A-10?!"
"Sir! CAS is in position! The Warthogs have already entered the battlefield!"
The communications officer loudly responded.
A few minutes later, above the Gunei Mountain Area.
A low, powerful engine roar ca from above the clouds.
Soon after, two ugly-looking A-10 "Warthog" attack aircraft burst through the clouds like two giant Grim Reaper bats, diving down with terrifying montum!
"Buzz—ch-ch-ch-ch-ch!!!"
The terrifying 30 mm seven-barrel GAU-8 "Avenger" cannon beneath the nose of one A-10 opened fire! Like a hot whip swung by God, dozens of depleted uranium armor-piercing shells per second ripped through a densely congregated area of 1515 ard personnel with terrifying kinetic energy.
Where the bullets passed, human bodies, rocks, even light vehicles, were instantly torn, smashed!
The unique and dull cannon sound beca the most terrifying noise on the battlefield!
The other A-10 circled, dropping several 500-pound laser-guided bombs.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Huge fireballs rose consecutively, the ground shook violently, the shock waves from the explosions could be clearly felt even by Song Heping and others far in the rock crevices.
The entry of the A-10s instantly turned the tide of the battle.
With cannons and bombs, they plowed several bloody pathways through the crowd of 1515 ard personnel, temporarily halting the enemy's surging offensive.
"Beautiful! Just like that! Blow up those bastards!"
A "Razor" squad mber who had been suppressed for a long ti couldn't help but shout in excitent.
Langsen also slightly relaxed, but dared not be complacent, imdiately commanding the troops to adjust the defenses and prepare for possible chaos and new waves of attacks.
However, Abu Omar, despite being sowhat stunned by this sudden aerial strike, suffering heavy losses, his fury and stubbornness now ca into play.
He scread orders to his subordinates, "Spread out! Take cover with rocks! Their planes can't stay in the sky forever! Mortars! Aim at the Arican positions! Allahu Akbar! For the jihad, charge!"
Under his stern orders, the surviving 1515 ard elents, though fearful, used the basin's complex terrain and rock cover to reorganize, leveraging nurical superiority to continue infiltrating, squeezing, and shooting at the US Army and Kurdish positions from multiple directions.
The battle once again fell into a more brutal, more chaotic stalemate.
The A-10's attacks, although deadly, couldn't instantly clear all enemies scattered in the complex terrain.
Just at the mont when the chaos reached its peak.
In the rock crevices, "Hunter" slowly mounted the SV-98 sniper rifle fitted with an extended silencer on an extrely hidden firing hole—this was a pre-observed angle that barely allowed visibility of parts of the US/Kurdish positions.
His movents were gentle as breathing, with no expression on his face.
"Ti to spice things up."
Hunter muttered quietly to himself, then calmly began searching for targets through the high-magnification aiming scope.
He selected so Kurdish light machine gunners who were actively firing.
"Pssht—"
The very light gunshot was completely masked by the explosions on the battlefield.
About four hundred ters away, a Kurdish shooter who was operating the machine gun, wildly spraying fire towards the 1515 ard direction, suddenly shuddered, a small bullet hole appeared on his forehead, and he collapsed onto the machine gun without a sound.
"Pssht—"
Another shot.
A US "Razor" squad mber who was gesturing to his teammates to move, suddenly burst out a spray of blood from his calf, scread in pain and fell.
"Sniper! There's a sniper!"
Terror-stricken shouts imdiately echoed from the attacked area.
This cold shot ca at a deeply inopportune mont!
While facing imnse pressure from the 1515 ard forces on the front, a precise and hidden sniper suddenly erged from the flanks, instantly exacerbating the US Army's and Kurds' panic and chaos.
They couldn't determine the specific direction of the bullets, only cautiously huddling behind cover, which invisibly eased the front-line pressure from the 1515 ard forces.
"Damn! It's those Russian rats! They're still here! They're nearby!"
Captain Langsen realized sothing at once, a chill running from the soles of his feet to his head.
These Russians not only engineered all this, but are still lurking nearby, occasionally firing shots like they're enjoying watching a gladiator performance!
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