Just as the cook was preparing to rush to protect VIP Miss Angel with the utmost speed, he discovered a dark shadow flashing past everyone.
To everyone's surprise, it was Song Heping who outran them all, dashing forward with unbelievable speed to tackle Miss Angel to the ground.
This lightning-fast action was breathtaking.
While everyone admired Song Heping's bravery, the only thought in his mind was—he couldn't let the God of Wealth be hard!
Ten thousand US dollars!
No!
It was ten thousand US dollars a day!
Angel was a walking God of Wealth.
If she died, his own reward would certainly be gone too.
What would he do then?
What would he use to pay off his debts?
So, Angel absolutely couldn't die!
The one he was holding wasn't just a lovely, fragrant Arican beauty but a bundle of warm cash.
He was holding the living expenses for his younger brothers and sisters!
"Get the Humvee over here fast!"
As he pinned Angel underneath him, he shouted loudly for the Illigo soldiers of the ICDC troops to bring the Humvee armored vehicle over to evacuate the VIP.
The vehicles were on the asphalt road at the edge of the tarmac, no more than a hundred ters away.
But he soon realized he had overestimated the courage of that rabble—the ICDC soldiers had already scattered like birds and beasts, running without a trace!
"What a bunch of cowardly pigs!"
That really infuriated the cook nearby, who began to curse loudly.
"Grey Wolf, co with to get the cars!"
He then instructed White Bear and Queen, "You two go and give Song He a hand!"
As the cook and Grey Wolf went to move the vehicle, a spectacle appeared in the sky.
Above the clear blue, white lines rapidly stretched towards the airport, growing longer and nearer.
"Katyusha!"
White Wolf looked up at the sky and let out an alard cry.
He was all too familiar with this weapon.
It was a product of their once mighty Soviet holand.
During the Iran-Iraq War, these rocket launchers, along with countless T-72s, were sold here; after so many years, they were still as effective as ever.
The flight speed of the rockets wasn't very fast, making it easy to identify and track their trajectory.
The dense array of defensive systems installed around the airport had ti to retaliate, ensuring the safety of the airport, the US Army had installed these close-defense weapons near the airport and other important facilities.
The system was instantly activated. Under the guidance of the fire control radar, the bases of the dense array swiftly rotated, aid, locked on, and fired—all in one smooth motion!
Zzzzzz—
The sound of gunfire, like an electric saw, accompanied with a rate of 6000 rounds per minute, and the orange streaks of fire tore through the air as the dense array began crazily intercepting the Katyusha rockets flying through the sky.
Simultaneously, all the anti-aircraft machine gun positions within the airport started to converge their fire, weaving a massive net of flas.
These scenes reminded Song Heping of massive military drills where only then one could witness such an impressive spectacle.
Under the interception of the dense array and on-duty weapons, the Katyusha rockets in the air were blown up one after another.
So exploded into fireballs on the spot, while others lost their propulsion and aim, changing direction and crashing to the ground.
But alas, even the tightest net has its gaps.
The hallmark of Katyusha rocket launchers is their ability to fire multiple rounds in quick succession. They rely not on absolute precision, but rather on their fiercely concentrated firepower.
When quality doesn't et standards, quantity is used to fill the gap.
Bang—
Finally, a rocket broke through the dense net of fire, successfully landing on the lawn about fifty ters away from the group, exploding into a two-ter high ball of flas.
Obviously, the interception net couldn't stop all the Katyusha rockets.
Because the dense array had a drawback.
Anything too fierce doesn't last for long.
It's rare for sothing to be both fierce and enduring.
That would be a pri example.
Most tis, the dense array's continuous fire wouldn't even last a minute.
If there's a first, there will be a second.
The second Katyusha rocket also landed and exploded successfully, this ti about twenty ters from the C-130 transport plane.
Song Heping could even hear the sound of the fragnts from the Katyusha rocket explosions striking the plane's body, sounding like big droplets of rain hitting the eaves on a quiet rainy night.
White Bear and Queen rushed over, crouching down on either side to stand guard and protect Angel's flanks.
From this, it was clear that these rcenaries were absolutely professional.
Song Heping's pressure suddenly decreased.
He slled a strong fragrance entering his nostrils.
Miss Angel whom he was pressing down was trembling violently.
That was the scent of the foreign woman's perfu.
Song Heping tried to get up.
But to his surprise, a terrified Angel opened her arms and hugged him tightly.
Instantly, the fragrance intensified.
This left Song Heping blushing and embarrassed.
As a grown man, he had never held a woman's hand other than his mother's and sister's, let alone be enveloped in such a warm and fragrant embrace.
"Miss Angel... hurry up, we'll get you in the car!"
There was no ti to appreciate exotic customs.
Nothing was more important than his own life.
The Katyusha rockets landing all around were becoming more nurous, with no discernable pattern to their strikes, and their aim was very poor.
However, sotis the lack of a pattern is what's most terrifying...
Professional artilleryn firing shells and rockets have a predictable rhythm, usually with concentrated impact points.
Even when firing is extended, the impact points progress from far to near, like an ox plowing a field, from one direction to the other.
It's the shells without pattern or accuracy that are nerve-wracking.
You never know where the next one will land.
Luckily, the cook and Grey Wolf had already driven the car over, parking it beside everyone.
The cook opened the door of the Land Rover and waved frantically at Song Heping, screaming, "Get in the car! Get in the car!"
Song Heping could no longer care about protocol or manners, he grabbed Angel by the waist, half pulling, half lifting the God of Wealth as he ran towards the Land Rover.
At the side of the car, Song Heping said, "Miss Angel, get in the car!"
Angel shook her head, cried, and continued to shake, but she would not let go.
Song Heping struggled a bit and realized, damn it, the foreign woman was surprisingly strong.
Those raised on beef were indeed extraordinary.
Song Heping was in a hurry, almost knocking her out before throwing her into the car.
In the current situation, every extra second they stayed was a second more of danger.
This woman, ah!
She was comfortably clinging on.
But this was about clinging to death together!
If just one fortunate Katyusha landed within ten ters, he was sure to ascend to heaven!
The cook was even more anxious than he was, bellowing at Song Heping, "Pick her up! Get her in the car!"
Then he said to Yuliy, who was waiting by the car ready to board, "You, go to the car with Grey Wolf!"
The boss had spoken; Song Heping had no choice but to comply, he scooped up Angel with a princess carry and stuffed her into the car like a piece of luggage.
The car door slamd shut, the cook floored the accelerator and the car sped away.
A little while later, Angel seed to calm down slightly, she tried to sit up and look around.
Unluckily, a Katyusha rocket exploded about thirty ters away from the patrol car.
Without a second thought, Song Heping pressed Angel down again.
The body of the Land Rover emitted a faint crackling sound.
Obviously, so small fragnts of shrapnel had hit the car.
This sent a chill down Song Heping's spine.
He rembered Ah Guan.
Poor Ah Guan had been killed by a bullet that pierced the sheet tal.
Shrapnel could be just as deadly.
Sitting in the driver's seat, the cook switched to cursing in Russian, though it was unclear at whom.
The cook's cursing, the explosion of Katyusha rockets outside, the returning fire of artillery and machine guns from the US Army base, and the still-sounding alarms.
The entire world was in chaos like a ssy porridge.
And beside him, Angel seed to want to sit up again.
Without hesitation, Song Heping pressed her down once more.
Hmm…
As a novice rcenary, Song Heping's performance could be called professional.
Although he lacked so real combat experience, his military expertise was by no ans low.
When protecting a VIP, it's a must to provide the best protection possible...
What constitutes the best protection?
Of course, it was pressing Angel down and using his own body to protect her.
What is professionalism?
This is professionalism!
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