The "Black Canyon" pass is about 5 kiloters from the previous "Death Curve."
On either side of the narrow road are slopes, with a width of less than fifty ters in the middle, flanked by sandy and rocky mountains over a hundred ters high.
Samir personally sits here, commanding the ambush team with the strongest firepower in this segntal blockade.
Twelve 82mm mortars and eight AGS-17 "Fla" automatic grenade launchers are carefully deployed at strategic points on both sides of the canyon, with firing range covering the entire mouth of the valley and hundreds of ters of slope in front.
When Eddie's already battered and demoralized convoy is forced to gather at the canyon entrance, trying to swiftly pass through this final perilous spot—
"Target, convoy gathering at the mouth of the valley, distance 450, full charge, three rapid shots, fire!"
Samir observed the convoy below, wriggling like ants, through binoculars and coldly gave the order.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
...
The muffled rhythmic sound of mortar fire erupted like holiday fireworks.
Imdiately followed by the denser, cloth-tearing sound— "Dong Dong Dong..."— as the AGS-17 poured 30mm VOG-17M fragntation grenades at a rate of 400 rounds per minute toward the mouth of the valley.
"Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—"
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Artillery shells and grenades fell with precision like hailstones onto the crowded convoy!
The 82mm mortar rounds exploded upon landing, with fragnts flying in a fan shape at high speed, effortlessly tearing through the fragile pickup truck bodies and human tissue.
The grenades fired by the AGS-17 exploded at a predetermined height mid-air, forming a deadly steel rain over a large area.
A pickup trying to use DShK heavy machine gun to suppress fire from the mountaintop was directly hit by a mortar shell on the front, the hood exploded, and the driver and machine gunner were instantly killed.
Another troop carrier was covered by several air-burst grenades, and the soldiers within fell like cut wheat, with screams ringing incessantly.
"Disembark! Organize a counterattack!"
Eddie's troops tried to muster the n to attack the hillsides on both sides and seize fire points.
But the slope is steep, easy to defend and hard to attack.
The snipers and sharp shooters of "Liberation Forces" specifically targeted the officers and machine gunners trying to gather.
And whenever Eddie's soldiers paid a heavy price and gasped their way up the high ground, all they found were empty firing positions and scattered hot shell casings.
This precise, ruthless, hit-and-retreat "skinning" tactic caused Eddie's once elite force of five thousand n to suffer trendous ntal and physical wear.
The 1515 Ard personnel began to beco highly tense, the extre exhaustion of physical and ntal energy caused morale to plumt.
What should have been more than an hour of marching took over three hours, barely half completed.
anwhile, continuous signals of distress were received on the radio from Mosul garrison, transitioning from anxious to almost desperate wails.
"Eddie! Where are you?! They... They're attacking the last line of defense! We can't hold out much longer! For Allah's sake!"
The Mosul garrison commander's voice already carried cries and hopelessness.
Eddie suddenly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of air mixed with the sll of gunpowder, blood, and charred flesh.
He knew that he and this weary force were no longer able to break through these layers of death traps and reach Mosul smoothly.
Just these few hours of assaults had cost his troops over a thousand n...
More importantly, the vehicles.
Vehicle losses were even more severe.
Moreover, there were the wounded...
At least hundreds of wounded.
This was driving Eddie crazy.
He couldn't just disregard the lives of his soldiers and abandon the wounded to continue pushing forward.
"Allah..."
He sighed deeply, picked up the radio communicator, and connected with the higher command.
"Emir..."
Eddie spoke with a dry voice.
"Eddie?!"
Buckdadi's voice carried a barely perceptible urgency, "Have you reached Mosul?"
"No... Emir, we... we're still on the road, have only completed half of the journey so far... The convoy is constantly under attack, and we have no ti or energy to pursue those obstructers, and we've suffered heavy losses ourselves."
"What?!"
Buckdadi's roar instantly penetrated the receiver, audible amidst the gunfire.
"I gave you five thousand n! So many heavy weapons! And you're telling you're blocked by a group of militia?!"
"They're not ordinary militia!"
Eddie's accumulated pressure and fear exploded at that mont, almost screaming into the phone, "They are like ghosts! Using landmines, IEDs, mortars, snipers... layers of ambushes! We've advanced thirty kiloters with five ambushes, lost over a thousand n, over thirty vehicles destroyed! They're specifically targeting troop carriers and supply convoys! Without reinforcents, I can't break through! I can't even guarantee to safely bring the remaining n to Mosul!"
The other end of the line fell into a dead silence, only Buckdadi's heavy breathing sounded like bellows.
After a long ti, he spoke slowly, with a voice terrifyingly cold: "Are you, threatening, ?"
"I'm stating facts, Emir."
Eddie had resigned to the situation, his tone carrying a desperate calmness, "Without Zakavi's five thousand n returning, we'll be slowly worn down on this godforsaken road! Mosul will be lost! Nineveh Province will be lost! Then, without catching the 'Ghost,' we won't have a foothold!"
"Bang!"
A loud crash of heavy objects shattering ca from the other end of the phone.
Buckdadi's anger erupted like a volcano, a torrent of vicious curses and roars surged forth, rebuking Eddie's incompetence, cursing Song Heping's cunning.
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