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The Arican-made Humvee armored vehicles' pitiful armor couldn't stop an RPG rocket at all, and what was more fatal was that this RPG was fired from above, on an overpass, aning it was a plunging fire.
The rocket hit the window of the first Humvee in the convoy, piercing the bullet-proof glass directly.
The ICDC driver's head was imdiately shattered by the tal jet, filling the entire cabin with a mist of blood, leaving the other ICDC soldiers seated in the vehicle with nothing to do but scream in chaos.
The RPG rocket launcher is practically considered an armor-piercing deity around the world; it's simple in structure, cheap in price, widely produced, and an uneducated militant only needs less than five minutes of training to learn how to operate it.
Its nurous advantages have made it a high-profile star weapon in the Blue Star battlefield; it truly is the undisputed choice for ho travel, murder, and looting, and a favorite among all the underdeveloped countries' regular forces or militants.
There's nothing a single RPG can't solve; if one doesn't cut it, fire two.
Look.
Here cos the second one right away.
Whiz—
Almost simultaneously with the first strike on the Humvee, the second RPG has arrived.
Since the Humvee had already swerved due to the driver's death, the second rocket hit the left-side door.
The shaped-charge RPG warhead penetrated the side door armor, tore through the bullet-proof lining inside and burrowed into the back seat—where the soldiers were sitting.
It exploded successfully inside the vehicle, and flas sprayed out from the opening of the sunroof where the machine gunner was positioned. Song Heping saw the soaring flas from his vehicle, thirty ters away, like a large firework lit during the Spring Festival.
Dead as a doornail.
At least, Song Heping thought the people inside the Humvee were essentially dead as a doornail.
Even if they weren't dead, they were maid.
Actually, there were quite a few vehicles driving on the road at that mont.
Ard attack.
This term wasn't new in Illiguo or Baghdad in the least.
Especially in these recent months, it happened every day.
Baghdad locals had long grown accustod to the blood and gore, sowhat desensitized to life and death.
The roadway was in chaos, with overturned Humvees and sideways toppled cargo trucks blocking the way; all passing vehicles stopped, and the people inside expertly opened their doors and began to scatter and flee.
Amazingly, there were no screams.
It was as if everyone was participating in a daily life-and-death ga.
Firing had already begun furiously from the overpass.
Bullets whizzed by, concentrating their fire on the Humvees, sparking deadly eruptions.
By now, posing as ordinary passersby was futile.
They must get out of the vehicle and flee for cover at the side of the road.
To continue sitting in the car was simply waiting to die.
The feeling was almost identical to the last attack.
Song Heping felt his mouth and tongue dry.
After all, for a novice like him, the oppressive feeling and tension of real combat were still intense.
"Get to the side of the road!"
The cook's voice echoed in the air.
Song Heping opened the door, and was imdiately hit by the pungent sll of gunpowder and the stench of blood.
Next to the first Humvee, an ICDC soldier lucky enough not to have been blown to smithereens struggled to crawl out of the vehicle, only to be shredded by the jubilantly firing PKM machine gun from the overpass.
Bullets rained down incessantly, and the body of the ICDC soldier lying beside the vehicle was continuously whipped, splattering blood and scattering chunks of flesh.
Song Heping felt a pressure in his chest and even breathing seed difficult.
He still wasn't quite used to such scenes.
There was a feeling of swelling at his temples, and even under the blazing sun, the colors in his vision seed to dim.
This was a visual effect caused by the accelerated blood flow due to nervous tension.
White Bear threw a smoke bomb.
Taking advantage of the smoke, everyone began to flee rapidly.
Song Heping raced out onto the road with the fastest speed.
About 5 ters from the roadside was the wreckage of a blasted T62 tank, he didn't think twice and took cover behind it.
There was nowhere safer than here.
Grey Wolf wasn't so lucky.
Being in the driver's seat, his escape was a tad slower than Song Heping's.
And in that tad of a mont, the situation changed completely.
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Having just run two ters, a barrage of bullets ca flying, and the local running ahead of Grey Wolf instantly turned into a bloody figure, collapsing onto the ground.
Grey Wolf imdiately perford a tactical roll, rolling towards the roadside and without a second thought, he dove behind a car, hiding behind the tires.
In the midst of the smoke, the cook and White Bear from the rear vehicle managed to escape the patrol SUV and took cover behind the concrete road barriers on the side of the road.
But soon, Song Heping heard the furious voice of the cook—
"Where's the VIP!? Where's the VIP!?"
He quickly pressed the talk button on his personal radio, calling for Queen.
Queen was in charge of the close protection of Angel.
"Queen! Where are you! Where's the VIP?!"
"Damn it! This crazy woman refuses to get out of the car! I can't drag her out!"
Queen's voice sounded so desperate over the channel.
In a PSD mission, everyone has their own roles to play.
For instance, Queen's task was to take the opportunity to escort the VIP to cover on the side of the road once White Bear threw the smoke bomb and it had effectuated.
This action had to be completed within 30 seconds.
As for the cook and White Bear in the sa vehicle, they had to suppress enemy fire for a while and then retreat to take cover themselves.
All had to be in sync, accomplished flawlessly.
However, Queen encountered so complications while evacuating Angel.
Just like the previous incident at the airport, Angel had another ltdown.
She lay in the backseat of the patrol SUV, curled up on the floor, clutching the seat base with both hands tightly, like a drowning person grasping at straws, starting to scream hysterically but absolutely refusing to leave that damned car!
The cook said to White Bear, "You're strong, go get her over here!"
After speaking, he aid his gun and continuously fired to suppress the enemy from the overpass.
At that mont, the modified RPD Light Machine Gun showed its unique advantage, its 100-round drum magazine allowed the cook to fire for a while without worrying about running out of ammo and needing to reload.
White Bear nodded, took a deep breath, and dashed out, crouching low.
But no sooner had he dashed two ters than a burst of gunfire swept over, and White Bear fell to the ground with a scream of agony.
It turned out he'd been so focused on watching the enemies on the overpass that he failed to notice three people had descended from the tailgating cargo truck that had hit the Humvee.
The three ard militants had clearly noticed White Bear, one of them raising his weapon to shoot, knocking White Bear down instantly.
"White Bear! Are you okay?!"
Seeing this, Grey Wolf hurriedly swept the three individuals who had co down from the cargo truck with his AKM, accurately taking one down while the remaining two dives behind the truck, using it as cover to return fire.
The enemy's shooting seed pretty good, their accuracy was on point.
Grey Wolf was actually being suppressed by the two n, completely immobilized.
Montarily, the cook too couldn't spare any attention elsewhere.
Despite holding an RPD Light Machine Gun, with at least seven to eight people firing at him from the overpass, he too was suppressed behind the barrier.
Firepower, positioning; the Blue Star rcenary Group held no advantages.
Soone on the bridge was shouting loudly.
Song Heping couldn't understand what they were saying.
The scene was in chaos.
There were at least a dozen corpses on the highway, so locals caught in the crossfire, moslty ICDC soldiers, with the first two Humvees completely unresponsive, nothing but a pile of corpses beside them—clearly, there was no counting on their help now.
Song Heping's position was the safest of everyone's.
Finally, the cook thought of Song Heping.
"Song! We'll cover you, go help Queen get that bitch out!"
Song Heping poked his head out from behind the T-62 to assess the situation around the patrol SUV.
The distance was less than 20 ters.
What sent chills down Song Heping's spine was the intense suppressing fire from the overpass; the patrol SUV already had several bullet holes, and fresh ones were continuously appearing on the asphalt around it, the machine gunner on the overpass seed to be having the ti of his life.
That 20 ters might as well have been a death sentence!
"Song! Go and get that bitch out!"
The cook urged him again.
Song Heping leaned against the back of the T-62, taking several deep breaths to steady his nerves.
Facing a rocket attack and an ambush on his first day on the job.
It was just one thing after another.
This money, it sure wasn't easy to earn!
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