At this mont, the sky was gradually brightening as the sun rose.
The sickly golden-red hue was cast over the city of Daguk.
Song Heping stood inside the command post, his entire view occupied by a massive integrated display screen.
The screen showed real-ti footage transmitted by the high-altitude drone "Hawkeye," with every detail remarkably clear.
"Indeed... couldn't hold back any longer."
Everything unfolded as he had anticipated.
For the extrely fanatical religious extremists, this provocation was intolerable.
To them, so things were more unbearable than death.
As if to confirm his judgnt, within the next second, nurous dark spots erged from the buildings in the inner city of Daguk.
Each dark spot was a terrorist.
At first, there were a few individuals, followed by increasingly more.
The dark mass of people resembled a filthy deluge breaking a dam; the remaining, most fervently ard extremist factions within the city comnced a suicidal charge.
Wielding AK-47s and RPG-7s, they wildly fired aimlessly into the sky, their speech slurred in obscure dialects as they bellowed extre slogans, shooting madly at any militia and rcenary they could see.
Previously hidden and camouflaged within buildings, ard pickups and armored vehicles stord out of courtyards, with Toyota pickups outfitted with outdated DShK heavy machine guns or the more powerful ZPU series anti-aircraft machine guns awkwardly yet fiercely charging forward among the crowd.
Even more terrifying, mixed within the convoy were a few trucks that seed particularly bloated, with welded-shut cabins and truck beds covered by heavy tarps—suicide car bombs!
This was the signature tactic of the 1515 Ard.
Once these powerful suicide car bombs got close, they could not only cause extensive casualties but would also instill imnse shock and fear in those not yet affected, thereby undermining morale.
They recklessly accelerated, intending to blaze a bloody path for the subsequent troops through their own destruction.
Their formation was chaotic, but the charge was rapid, infused with a kind of hysterical, do-or-die frenzy, purposefully targeting that "execution ground" to the west of the city.
"Ti to get our hands dirty."
A murderous intent flashed in Song Heping's eyes as the forefinger of his right hand swiftly and accurately swiped across several preset communication icons on the touchscreen, his speech abruptly quickening; a series of clear, ruthless commands burst forth, instantly transmitted via encrypted data links to each combat unit:
"Artillery unit, full firepower coverage! Target area Alpha to Gamma, cover enemy breakthrough paths and subsequent echelons! Turn this ground over completely for !"
"Second Battalion, abandon frontal search and destroy mission, imdiately mobilize southward, seize the high ground on H-7, H-8, and completely block their retreat route; since they're all charging out desperately, don't let them go back! Rember, not even a mouse should be let back!"
"Abu You Brigade main force, press down from the left-wing Hill No.3, use maximum firepower to flank the enemy's midsection, cut them off in the middle, and encircle them!"
"Call all air units, prioritize hunting high-value targets—technical vehicles and suicide trucks! Repeat, priority order: suicide trucks, ard pickups, personnel clusters. Do not allow any suicide vehicle near our frontline positions!"
The first to respond was the artillery unit of the militia that had long calculated all variables and waited silently.
In an instant, the ground began to shake violently.
Deployed at concealed rear positions, the 122mm and 152mm howitzers, along with 120mm heavy mortars, roared with thunderous outrage!
This was no longer the sporadic harassing shelling of before but genuinely destructive saturation bombardnt.
The sky was filled with the hiss of projectiles tearing through the air.
A few minutes later, a deadly shower of steel and flas poured precisely onto that open area and along the 1515 Ard's charge path!
Boom!
Boom boom boom!
Boom boom—
Relentless explosions were deafening, as if they'd never cease.
Massive fireballs soared up one after another, black smokes mixed with dirt blasted skyward, and...
Human remains were blown into the air, mingled with debris and stones, raining down to the ground like raindrops.
Furious shockwaves spread fiercely around, causing those near the epicenter to suffer internal injuries, bleeding from all orifices, and flipping lighter pickups like toys, tearing them apart.
A 1515 Ard extremist charging at the forefront, still firing his AK-47, had a 152mm howitzer shell explode less than five ters away in the next second.
After a blinding flash, he and over a dozen comrades nearby vanished instantly, leaving behind nothing but an expanding dark red stain and a few charred, smoldering scraps of cloth.
A pickup truck equipped with ZPU-2 anti-aircraft machine guns, part of the 1515 Ard convoy, tried to speed through the artillery blockade line but ran over a burning tire thrown by the shockwave.
The driver instinctively turned the wheel sharply, causing the vehicle to lose control and overturn, skidding into a crater.
Imdiately afterward, another mortar shell landed precisely on the edge of the crater, turning the pickup along with the occupants still inside into twisted, burning wreckage.
The open field turned into a living Purgatory in an instant.
The charging 1515 extremists fell like harvested wheat, collapsing in sheets.
Blood stained the scorched earth, shattered limbs, and entrails scattered everywhere.
The screams, blasts, crackling of burning vehicles, and the unconscious moans of the dying intertwined into a brutal battlefield symphony.
Yet the ground artillery fire was rely the prelude to this multi-dinsional slaughter.
In the sky, US air units that had been hovering at high altitudes along the edge of the battlefield—A-10 "Warthog" attack aircraft and F-15E "Strike Eagle" fighter-bombers—dove down with the howl of predators that had found their prey.
"Warthog One, visual confirmation of target area. Multiple technical vehicles and suspected bomb trucks identified. Requesting attack authorization."
The A-10 pilot's calm voice echoed over the radio.
"Authorized to engage, Warthog One. Priority on dealing with suicide trucks. 'Dagger' front observer has provided laser illumination."
The rear command link confird.
"Received. Entering attack run."
The A-10, codenad "Warthog One," was the first to strike.
Its signature GAU-8/A "Avenger" 30mm seven-barrel Gatling gun started to rotate with a low hum and then roared like a drum—
Thud, thud, thud, thud—
Thud, thud, thud, thud—
A ter-long tongue of fire spewed from the nose of the plane. The deadly barrage of 30mm depleted uranium armor-piercing incendiary rounds, fired at a rate of nearly 4,000 rounds per minute, lashed the ground like a burning giant whip.
A pickup truck ard with weapons, trying to evade the artillery, bore the brunt.
In the instant the barrage swept over, the body of the pickup was chewed by the invisible rain of bullets, instantly transforming into a violently burning fireball. The machine gunner, along with the heavy machine gun, was ripped apart and lted.
When the cannon rounds hit human targets, the effect was even more terrifying. Those struck were often torn in half instantly or exploded into a cloud of blood.
Next followed the F-15E "Strike Eagle."
"Eagle Claw One, lock on target, Alpha-3 area, large truck, characteristics match SVBIED."
"Bomb release authorized. Good luck."
A slight jolt beneath the wing and a 500-pound GBU-12 "Gemstone Road" II laser-guided bomb detached from its rack, following the invisible laser guide emitted by the "Dagger" forward observer team from a concealed distant position, striking the target with precision.
It was a conspicuous white truck mixed in the middle of the convoy.
The truck bed was covered with a tarpaulin, obscuring its contents.
The bomb hit almost vertically in the center of the truck bed.
A massive fireball suddenly expanded, with an astonishing explosion that collapsed the walls of nearby buildings. The shockwave and flas instantly consud the truck and everything within dozens of ters around!
Imdiately, a more intense secondary explosion occurred—the simultaneous detonation of hundreds of kilograms of explosives loaded on the truck.
This was a suicide bomb truck.
The shockwave spread like a sphere, crazily expanding in all directions, blowing nearby militants hiding on the ground like leaves.
While still in the air, their bodies were shattered by the impact, breaking internal organs and bones.
Thick black smoke, like a mushroom cloud, surged skyward, temporarily covering a large part of the battlefield sky, even causing the drone's footage to shake violently and snow for a mont.
Inside the command post, Song Heping kept a close eye on the high-definition real-ti images transmitted back by the drone, focusing all his attention on the subtle changes in the battlefield situation.
"Artillery units, extend fire 50 ters, cover the G-6 area, there are enemies attempting to establish a temporary support point there."
"Second Battalion, report your position. Speed up, the enemy is retreating, they want to flee! Fire support, intercept them all, don't let them shrink back into their shell!"
"The Abu You Brigade, there are small enemy units trying to infiltrate on your right flank using craters, C Company move 100 ters left and use mortars to knock them out."
His orders were concise and precise, slicing into the critical nodes of the battlefield like a scalpel.
Under his coordination, the large number of 1515 ard militants bursting out of the buildings were completely plunged into a desperate situation.
Now, it was their turn to feel the skin-deep fear.
In front was a death barrier composed of artillery and air strikes; the flank was suffering from the Abu You Brigade's elevated and fierce shooting, cutting their formation like a scythe; the retreat path was tightly sealed by the rapidly maneuvered "Musician" Second Battalion using "Short horn" anti-tank missiles and NSV "Rock" heavy machine guns. Any vehicle or personnel attempting to retreat into the city center's building cluster would face precise and deadly attacks.
The narrow roads and open spaces in the city beca veritable slaughterhouses.
They had nowhere to hide, no shelter, only to be slowly crushed under the absolute superior firepower like live targets.
The slaughtering battle continued for nearly forty minutes.
The open ground was littered with charred craters, burning vehicle wrecks, and broken, unrecognizable bodies.
The air was filled with a nauseating stench, a heavy mix of smoke, blood, and roasted flesh.
Nearly five hundred 1515 ard militants and their vehicles, attempting a counterattack, were almost completely annihilated.
Only a few lucky ones, using their companions' bodies as cover or having unbelievable luck, tried to crawl and roll back into buildings, but desperately encountered the precision cueing of "Musician" rcenary snipers from the Second Battalion.
Only a small part hiding inside the buildings and not daring to show themselves temporarily managed to beco stray fish, but could only watch this brutal slaughter through the smoke, unable to do anything.
No one dared to leave the buildings.
After all, hiding inside buildings could still provide so cover.
The US Army planes and militias' artillery couldn't distinguish the nature of the buildings, fearing harming too many innocent civilians, hesitating to act.
Once exposed, it wouldn't take thirty seconds before facing artillery and airstrikes.
Soon, the frantic shouting and prayers in the city had long vanished, replaced by a deathly silence.
Now, the leaders of the 1515 militants hiding in the city understood they had really gotten into serious trouble today.
What they faced now were not the easily crumbled governnt forces of the past, nor the moderately strong Kurd people, but elite militias with strict situational training appearing from who knows where, and so ard personnel who looked like rcenaries.
"They hired rcenaries!"
As these words squeezed through his teeth, the 1515 militant leader heard the clicking sound of his teeth clattering.
Fear, for the first ti, surged from the bottom of his heart, unstoppable, rushing straight to his head...
It was overwhelming!
How to fight now?
Can't fight...
Surrender?
This unfamiliar and disgraceful word popped into his mind for the first ti.
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