Their old BMP-1 armored vehicle was like a paper mache toy in front of the terrifying 30mm autocannon.
Thud thud thud—
Thud thud thud thud—
30mm high-explosive shells and armor-piercing rounds rained down like hail, as another pickup truck was struck directly in the middle by a precisely aid 30mm high-explosive shell. The modified fragile armor and vehicle body were instantly torn apart, disintegrating as wreckage and everything inside was blasted to pieces, scattering in all directions.
The front wheel of another pickup truck was precisely shot off by a string of artillery shells, causing the vehicle to veer uncontrollably and crash heavily into a protruding rock, with ear-piercing tal grinding sounds. The soldiers inside were jolted violently, bleeding from head wounds, struggling to escape the mobile coffin.
Joseph's BMP-1 was not spared from the disaster.
Bang bang bang—
Clang clang clang—
Several 30mm shells hit the front body and left side of the turret consecutively, the armor plates releasing deafeningly terrifying noises.
After being hit by several autocannon rounds, the weak armor was easily torn open, and rivets and internal structural fragnts flew through the cramped fighting compartnt like lethal darts, dense, suffocating black smoke instantly poured in through the breaches and hatch gaps, filling the entire space, making it impossible to breathe.
Joseph felt a burning pain near his left armpit, as a hot tal fragnt embedded itself hard into the edge of his bullet-proof plate, with blood instantly soaking through his combat uniform.
"Retreat! Everyone retreat! Reverse! Get the hell back! Find cover! Find cover!"
Joseph, enduring the excruciating pain, scread into the radio, while desperately operating the equally old coaxial machine gun, futilely firing back in the direction of the faintly visible firing points on the cliff, trying to open a faint escape route for the survivors still struggling within the wreckage.
The public channel on the radio was completely drowned out by screams in various languages, explosions, cries of despair, and chaotic commands.
However, the 1515 ard n ambushing here were clearly well-prepared, the only retreat route had long been completely blocked by crisscrossing machine guns and possibly anti-tank firing points.
On both sides of the sand and rock slopes, more muzzle flashes appeared, light machine guns and automatic rifles began to spew deadly tongues of fire with "da da da" sounds. Bullets poured down around the remnants of the convoy like a storm, sparking on rocks and tal, suppressing the few survivors who could barely lift their heads, let alone organizing an effective retreat or counterattack.
Despair crawled up the spine like a cold poison snake.
Joseph leaned against the hot wreckage of the vehicle, looking at his subordinates inside who had either lost their lives or were groaning in pain, listening to the increasingly faint, even disappearing cries for help on the radio public channel, a chill colder than death itself instantly overwheld the pain from the wounds.
"We've been fucking betrayed!"
He shouted into the radio.
"The intelligence is wrong! This place is full of 1515 people!"
Forward command base, inside Song Heping's mobile command vehicle.
"Commander! Ergency military situation! The 'Ranger 1-1' reconnaissance team has encountered a high-intensity ambush in Tuz Valley!"
The communicator's exclamation pierced the calm inside the command vehicle.
Song Heping, who was concentrating on planning the next offensive route, imdiately turned his head to inquire: "Report the situation! Details!"
The communicator's Adam's apple moved arduously, his voice involuntarily low, "Preliminary...preliminary report, encountered a ticulously arranged three-dinsional ambush, extrely intense firepower, reconnaissance squad losses...extrely heavy."
He took a deep breath, almost not daring to et Song Heping's eyes, "The reconnaissance squad...is basically...basically wiped out."
"What happened!?"
Song Heping slamd a fist hard on the edge of the command control console made of high-strength alloy.
Everyone in the vehicle, including the staff and operators, held their breath, looking in fear at their commander, who was always known for his calm and composure.
Song Heping closed his eyes, took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the explosive fla burning within his chest.
"Order: All front line units, including the foremost main assault battalion and the Abu You Brigade flanking cover units, imdiately cease all forward movent! Deploy in place, construct defenses, set up sentry posts! Without my direct and explicit order, no unit, no one, is allowed to step into any valleys, towns, forests, or any other terrain complex areas!"
He paused, each word spoken seed to be pulled from an ice cellar.
"Anyone who defies... regardless of rank, will be executed on the spot!"
This command, filled with a chilling killing intent, was quickly transmitted by the signalman with the highest priority, his voice trembling, to every combat unit.
Soon thereafter, Song Heping walked steadily but with an invisible pressure to the dedicated communication terminal with multiple encryption, directly linked to the US Joint Command Headquarters in Baghdad.
His expression was terrifyingly dark.
"Connect to Baghdad, US Joint Command Headquarters, get Colonel Kote, imdiately! Highest encryption level, video call."
After a few seconds of suffocating wait, the screen flickered, revealing Colonel Kote's ticulously grood face, bearing a standard Arican professional expression, against the backdrop of a modern US military command center filled with various flickering screens and busy personnel.
"Boss Song."
Kote's tone was perfectly asured, mixed with a hint of "concern" and "relief".
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