The gunfire continued.
Outside on the street, the cook and the others were still exchanging fire with the ard militants inside the building.
They simply couldn't breach the building.
Now Samir understood why Mosul was so difficult to capture.
Once inside the city, tanks had difficulty maneuvering.
Moreover, while the heavy machine guns mounted on Humvees could shoot at an angle, their 12.7 caliber bullets, though capable of penetrating thinner walls, couldn't demolish buildings.
As long as they hid inside buildings, the militants had too many ways to deal with the people below.
They didn't even need to fire, just dropping hand grenades would be enough to cause serious trouble below.
To forcefully advance, it would cost lives.
Although the US Army had announced casualties to be just over two hundred, in reality, the number of casualties suffered by the Civil Defense Force could be several tis or even ten tis higher, they just hadn't been made public.
In the blink of an eye, when Samir looked up again to find Song Heping, he noticed he was hanging below the balcony on the fifth floor.
Samir instantly felt his goosebumps rise.
It was extrely dangerous.
One slip, and he would fall to his death.
Moreover, if the militants inside spotted him at this mont, he was dead.
He quickly held his weapon and slowly backed up, searching for the best cover angle.
Although it was not possible to completely safeguard Song Heping, he could at least share a bit of the risk.
The cook, across the street, seed to also see Song Heping climbing the building, and he too was stunned, asking over the tactical channel, "Suka! Has the kid gone mad?"
Song Heping certainly couldn't answer him.
Now he had no ti and no energy to answer anyone.
This was the critical mont.
One slight error could lead to eternal regret.
It couldn't be denied, climbing by hand was very physically demanding, testing the muscles all over one's body.
Hands, waist, feet.
Every part needed to coordinate and exert precise force.
At this mont, he was only a step away from success.
But it was the most dangerous final step.
There were definitely enemies on the roof.
The location he was climbing was at the rear left of the building.
Generally, militants would concentrate on the side facing the road; the left rear likely wouldn't have too many people.
If only he could have three seconds.
Three seconds of ti.
If nobody discovered him within three seconds after flipping over,
he would definitely be able to kill the militants on the roof.
The current Song Heping was simply gambling with ti.
And one thing he dreaded most and couldn't predict,
was whether there were militants on the rooftop of the building behind him?
Damn it!
No choice now!
Actually, the best thod was to call the Air Force and have an Apache co over to assist was the best plan.
Unfortunately, rcenaries had no rights.
Especially talking to Lieutenant Colonel Mandres about sending a helicopter to assist, would he listen to his own rcenary leader?
Even if he could persuade him, it would probably take a lot of ti.
By the ti the Apache ca, all his people would be done.
Song Heping gritted his teeth, shouted "Do or die!" in his mind, and flung his body, hooking his foot on the cent railing of the rooftop.
As he flipped over, he had already drawn the pistol tucked in his right waist.
Glock 17.
The magazine was full.
He had already abandoned the previous Beretta 92F.
Not that the Beretta was less useful than the Glock, but the Glock had a larger magazine capacity.
Sotis, a few more bullets could save a life.
As soon as he flipped over the railing, Song Heping saw a face.
That face was less than a ter away from himself.
Correct.
A militant was squatting right at the edge of the cent railing.
Shit!
Fuck!
Inside Song Heping's mind, tens of thousands of "fucking hell" stord through like a whirlwind.
The other side was also dumbfounded.
He couldn't comprehend how, while he was loading bullets for his comrades, soone suddenly appeared in front of him?
There was no staircase on that side; it was a vertical wall.
Who was this guy?
How did he get up here?
The militant's mind was full of question marks.
The magazine and bullet in his hand froze in the air, as if they had been immobilized by a martial arts point strike.
Just that mont's hesitation sealed the man's fate.
Song Heping's Glock pistol was almost pressed against his forehead when he fired.
Bang—
The bullet penetrated his skull.
So close, Song Heping could even hear the warhead shattering bones.
There were two more militants standing behind the concrete barrier on the roadside.
These two sprayed bullets across the street, standing and crouching intermittently, engrossed in their firing.
Luckily, the gunfire everywhere had completely confused their hearing, also masking the noise made by the Glock 17 when it fired.
They hadn't even noticed that Song Heping had appeared behind them.
One of the militants even put down his assault rifle and picked up an RPG launcher next to him, seeming to want to give those downstairs in the kitchen a taste of the Soviet Union's socialist iron fist.
Song Heping quickly raised his hand and fired at him.
The bullet hit the man in the back.
He struggled to turn, searching for the source of the bullet.
In a flash, Song Heping felt a gunshot from behind, as if sothing had forcefully pushed him, tumbling him down from the barrier to the ground.
"Damn!"
Song Heping realized that there must be enemies inside the building behind him.
They shot him from behind.
Ignoring his injuries, he quickly raised his hand and shot another militant twice.
Just as the man turned to see Song Heping, he took two bullets directly to the chest.
Both militants weren't dead.
Sitting against the concrete barrier, they fumbled around, struggling to reach for their guns.
Song Heping felt pain in his back but clenched his teeth and quickly aid for another rapid-fire.
Bang bang—
Bang bang—
Bang bang—
After finishing, Song Heping reholstered his pistol into the quick draw holster and switched to an MK18 assault rifle.
He had intended to estimate the position of the militants in the adjacent building and aim a soulful shot to finish them off.
But unexpectedly, before he could lift his rifle, two hand grenades had already flown over, landing on the rooftop.
"Fuck!"
Song Heping was utterly terrified.
These bastards!
They were ruthless!
He didn't have ti to think much.
With only less than three seconds to react,
The entrance to the rooftop was five ters away from him.
It was definitely too late to dive inside and run down the stairs.
The hand grenades had landed between the rooftop entrance and him, about four ters away. Running towards the entrance was definitely not a wise choice.
Standing up was also dangerous, as the militants in the adjacent building might have already been aiming, just waiting for him to get up.
Samir below couldn't help him either.
Standing downstairs, he couldn't see the situation on the rooftop. It was a dead spot.
At the crucial mont, the battlefield reflexes and wit of a top Special Forces mber played a life-saving role.
In those brief few tenths of a second, Song Heping had made his choice.
He grabbed the body of the militant he had shot in the head and used it as a shield in front of him, then leaned against the edge of the concrete barrier, curling up his body as much as possible, using the body as cover.
Boom—
Boom—
Two consecutive explosions.
Two plus of black smoke rose from the rooftop.
Samir downstairs was frantic, like an ant on a hot pan.
"Boss! Boss!"
He held his gun and wildly fired at the adjacent rooftop.
However, this kind of shooting was completely non-threatening, other than knocking down so fragnts of concrete, it achieved nothing.
Instead...
He got a reward.
Well...
Because the militants on the rooftop of the adjacent building obviously also knew there was soone in the alley below, they simply threw down two more hand grenades, which landed in the alley.
Samir, terrified out of his wits, ran around the corner at a speed he had never attempted in his life.
Boom—
Boom—
After the grenades in the alley exploded, the blast wave carried debris and dust out of the alley's entrance.
Samir, hiding behind the building, was sweating profusely.
Fortunately, because the boss had just instructed him to stand by the corner for cover, if he had been in the middle of the alley, he might not have survived that ordeal.
"Boss!"
He started madly calling out for Song Heping on the communication channel.
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