Song Heping turned and fired, unleashing a long burst of shots.
Several ard militants, caught off guard seven or eight ters away, cried out in agony as their chests burst open like punctured tomatoes.
Kawasi, truly worthy of his role as the commander of the assault team, did not foolishly choose to raise his gun to return fire the mont Song Heping turned around.
Perhaps it was instinct that saved his life.
Imdiately, he dove into a corridor next to him.
He had made the right decision.
Song Heping's firing and shooting speed was beyond their comparison.
Several of his n lay in front of him, less than two ters away, their eyes wide with terror as if pleading for help, which made him break out in a cold sweat.
The two guards at the entrance, responsible for keeping watch, didn't react imdiately; they had no idea what was happening and only thought of retaliating after a dazed two seconds.
But God would not give them another chance.
Because there was another mber of Seal Team—Mist—standing right between them.
Bang bang—
Almost simultaneously with Song Heping's gunfire, Mist reacted reflexively, raising his AK47 to spray a stream of bullets, taking down the guard on his right with a short burst.
He fired two bullets, not even looking to see where they hit, and turned around to fire again.
Bang bang—
His movents so swift that the other guard barely had ti to raise his gun before a bullet pierced his head.
Fast!
Accurate!
Ruthless!
These were the characteristics of a Special Soldier's attack.
The scene, once calm, was now fraught with murderous intent.
Having taken them down, Song Heping wasted no more words and quickly pulled out a hand grenade, throwing it with the greatest speed into the corridor where Kawasi had hidden.
The hand grenade landed directly in the corridor where Kawasi was hiding; this guy was also fated to live, as there was a room next to him, used for the guards at the door to rest and switch shifts.
He barged into it.
He was extrely lucky that the door was unlocked.
From the mont Song Heping started shooting, if Kawasi's luck had been even slightly worse, or the door had been locked, or he had been hot-headed enough to try and shoot it out with Song Heping, he would have probably been dead by now.
So a commander is still a commander.
Luck is still luck.
King Yama doesn't want him, so he won't die.
Boom—
The blast wave from the explosion rushed into the room, covering Kawasi in dust and gri.
At this point, he finally understood—he was not facing any ordinary soldier.
And definitely not soone sent by any other ard organization mingling around New Golden Moon, but surely a mber of the Special Forces.
As for who.
He no longer had ti to think about it.
Song Heping's fluid, thodical killing technique made this commander known as the "Helmand Monster" lose all courage to resist.
He hid behind the room door, beginning to shout loudly, warning everyone that sothing was wrong here.
anwhile, Song Heping and the other two were already sprinting towards the hillside to the right of the entrance, where there were a few trees and their vehicle was parked.
As they ran, Mist cursed under his breath.
He was cursing Rabbani.
Because when he had taken down the two guards, Rabbani should have been responsible for dealing with the attack on one side while he took the other.
Yet he had taken down both, while Rabbani stood there foolishly unresponsive.
This irritated him greatly.
If the other guard had reacted just a bit faster, it would have been him lying dead.
From the perspective of a Special Forces mber, Mist was right to curse.
But he had forgotten that Rabbani in front of him was just a minor local leader under the Revolutionary Brigade, hardly skilled in tactics to begin with.
To expect him to react correctly and swiftly without prior discussion or a set plan was clearly too much to ask.
In the direction of the parking area, under a tree, stood an ard militant.
Hearing the gunfire at the entrance, he held his rifle and ca out to see what was happening.
Before he could make out the situation clearly, Song Heping had already fired three shots at him, guided by the moonlight.
Bang bang bang—
Three shots burst.
The guard watching the vehicles fell to the ground.
Everything went so smoothly.
Song Heping quickly set his sights on a militant pickup truck.
In the back of the vehicle, a Desheka Heavy Machine Gun was mounted.
This would be very useful in shaking off pursuers.
"That pickup truck!"
Song Heping didn't hesitate, rushing to the back of the truck, and said to Mist, "You and Rabbani take the front, Rabbani you navigate, I'll provide covering fire from the back."
Mist gave Song Heping a thumbs up.
Working with this young man was always satisfying.
There was a sense of calm assurance.
He himself was skilled at driving, and Rabbani knew the roads well.
Song Heping in the back of the truck was clearly in the most dangerous position.
Yet he chose such a tactical arrangent, showing he wouldn't compromise his role for personal safety or take the easier option of driving instead of managing the firepower himself.
A true field commander exemplified such leadership and style.
Mist had previously thought Song Heping, though formidable, was sowhat unconventional.
But having interacted with him recently, he found the young man could easily fit into the Seal Team.
"No keys! FUCK!"
Mist cursed as soon as he got into the driver's seat.
Because there were no keys in the ignition.
Luckily, he had found a knife on the body of one of the militants, so he inserted the knife under the plastic cover of the steering column and pried it open, pulling out the wiring to hot-wire the vehicle.
This was a skill taught to Seals, and it ca in handy now.
However, the absence of the keys did cause a delay.
While Mist was trying to start the vehicle, Song Heping could no longer bother to check the situation; he jumped onto the truck bed and grabbed the Desheka Heavy Machine Gun, turning it towards the entrance.
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