Right when US and Russian jets are confronting mid-air, Latamira's outskirts see the ground operation entering its final and most critical phase.
"Explosives set! Double-checked all key nodes. Five-minute countdown started! Irreversible!"
Shadow's voice is swift and calm, he holds a mini detonator controller tightly with a visible readout.
Petrovsky almost without a pause, presses the transmit button on his throat mic:
"All units be advised! Mission complete! Repeat, mission complete! Execute evacuation protocol now! Retreat at full speed along predetermined route to rendezvous point! Move! Move! Move!"
SSO squad mbers leap from their cover, quickly forming a standard retreat formation.
The team mber guarding the flanks unhesitatingly sprays bullets towards any threatening corner and window of the warehouse area, the intense gunfire crackling like exploding beans, suppressing any scattered resistance that might impede the retreat.
Bullets hit concrete walls and tal fras, sparking and splintering debris.
"Angel!"
Petrovsky shouted.
"Get Frost with Shadow onto the vehicle, we'll cover you."
"Understood!"
Angel shouted as he helped up Frost, who was leaning against the wall corner. The assault trooper Shadow hoisted Frost onto his back, while Angel assisted in securing him, checking whether the wound pressure was still effective.
Then, seizing the opportunity while other team mbers suppressed the remaining fire from the Mossad agents, the two rushed towards the ard pickups parked in the warehouse shadows at maximum speed.
"Iron Hamr, rear suppression! Buy us ninety seconds!"
Petrovsky ordered the machine gunner Iron Hamr.
"Roger!"
Imdiately, Iron Hamr, positioned at the high point near the warehouse exit, operated the PKM light machine gun, unleashing one last frantic yet accurate suppressive fire towards any movent deep within the warehouse.
Russian-style suppressive fire is very distinctive.
In summary, just two words—Fierce!
The PKM light machine gun's firepower ranks among the top in all light machine guns worldwide, with its powerful 7.62×54mmR rimd ammo capable of effectively penetrating light armor and cover, also operable as a light anti-aircraft weapon against slow-flying targets.
A combat rate of over 250 rounds per minute provides sustained and suppressive fire support, granting an infantry squad a firepower advantage.
Not just Iron Hamr using the powerful PKM light machine gun, this machine gun was equipped with the Russian Army Special Forces' latest "Scorpion" feed system, escalating the SSO squad's machine gun firepower to a new level.
The so-called "Scorpion" feed system mainly consists of a large tal ammo box, placed inside a specially designed backpack for the machine gunner.
A flexible tal feed chute delivers the ammo chain from the box to the machine gun, with the box capable of holding up to 550 rounds, at least twice the sustained firepower compared to those with ammo boxes holding one or two hundred rounds.
Scorching shell casings ejected from the machine gun's side, pattering onto the ground like raindrops, making a clinking sound.
The remaining Mossad agents among the warehouse guards were utterly pinned down by Iron Hamr alone, unable to lift their heads, forced to cower behind cover around the warehouse like turtles.
At this mont, Song Heping also left his command post on the second floor of a nearby building, swiftly moving towards the evacuation point.
He didn't idle along the way.
Being about seven ters above the ground, arguably enjoying a commanding view, he could see clearly the situation atop the warehouse.
Thus, securing the warehouse rooftop beca his task.
Given the circumstances, Mossad agents could well exploit the chance to get onto the warehouse roof to leverage favorable terrain against the retreating SSO squad with gunfire, obstructing their departure.
Indeed, having barely run thirty ters, Song Heping swiftly spotted a threat.
In the dim light, he keenly caught sight of two figures attempting to lean out of side windows and aim a precision rifle at retreating Angel and Bear.
Song Heping didn't hesitate a bit, swiftly lifting his assault rifle, aiming and shooting fluidly while on the move.
You don't question the marksmanship of anyone from the 203 Special Forces.
Bang, Bang—
Bang, Bang—
Two accurate single shots.
The bullets flew nearly eighty ters, carrying Grim Reaper's invitation, and drilled accurately into those two Mossad agents' heads.
The figures at the window fell.
"Clear!"
Song Heping's voice resonated on the channel, brief and commanding.
"Get in the vehicles! Everyone, get in! Move!"
Petrovsky standing by a pickup's door shouted loudly, waving his arms.
Team mbers helped each other, retreating as though the tide, swiftly disengaging, all hopping into the pickup's back.
The heavy gear collided with the vehicle body, making muffled thuds.
Engines had been started in advance, their low growling signaling readiness at any mont.
"Do it fast! Frost's blood pressure is dropping!"
Angel knelt in the bouncing back of the pickup, pressing hard on Frost's abdominal wound with both hands, blood already staining his arms and front.
Petrovsky was the last to jump into the lead pickup's passenger seat, he slamd the door shut with a thudding sound.
"Drive! Full speed! Get us out!"
He pounded on the door vigorously, almost roaring at Shadow in charge of driving.
"Vroom—!!!"
The diesel engine roared like a beast, the tires screeching across the rough gravel, kicking up choking dust and stones.
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