Song Heping stood in the bed of the pickup truck, looking at the flickering lights in the distance.
Those were headlights.
They were all rushing towards this place.
Obviously, the mbers of the Revolutionary Brigade hadn't anticipated that he and Mist would flee south; their interception forces had been positioned to the north and east.
The last-minute decision caught them off guard, proving his judgnt was correct.
Heading east, heading north, were both dead ends.
Only by going south, could they hope for a sliver of chance at survival.
Rabbani was now very scared.
He hadn't spoken for a long ti.
Rabbani, sitting in the passenger seat, was pale as a ghost.
In his eyes, everything was over.
The Revolutionary Brigade's territory was vast, extending even into the mountainous areas of the Persian Plateau.
Even after so many years, the Persian Governnt Army and Special Forces had not been able to completely eradicate them, and now Song Heping and his company intended to delve into their midst?
It was like seeking death—fed up with long life.
But he couldn't stop any of it.
After all, his uncle's family was in the hands of the US Army...
If death were to co, so be it.
He glanced at the gun in his hand and silently made up his mind—if they really couldn't escape, he would use the butt of this AK47, prop it against the ground with the barrel against his chin, and fire; it would be a better fate than falling into Kawasi's hands.
He looked out the window.
The darkness of the night enveloped everything, with only the stars shining faintly on the continuous high mountains.
They had run south about thirty kiloters.
The mountains were becoming more nurous.
The road was getting narrower.
And it was getting rougher.
Sitting in the vehicle, one felt as if their heart might flip up into their throat.
Suddenly, he felt a terrible churning in his stomach and couldn't help but stick his head out and violently vomit.
Mist glanced at Rabbani with disdain and said, "You're the leader of an Ard Organization, and you're getting sick in a car?"
His tone was full of contempt.
He couldn't help but follow up with another barb.
"Take a look at Song, of all of us he's feeling the worst. Did you hear a peep out of him?"
Rabbani wiped the filth from the corner of his mouth, and leaning back into the seat, took a couple of deep breaths before saying, "You are all Professional Soldiers, I can't compare!"
"Can't compare? You're a professional terrorist!" Mist blurted out.
Unexpectedly, this completely set Rabbani off, he suddenly erupted in a rage and started yelling, "Terrorist!? To you Aricans, we people living here are all terrorists, right?! The one bombing you is Laden, what are you doing invading Afghanistan? He's long gone! You're still here, claiming to be fighting the student army, but what's the result? Do you think I don't know? Our opium is assisted out by your CIA people! To find the processing plants, to kill Azhar and the others, you guys even kidnapped my uncle's family to blackmail !? How is that different from a terrorist?! Tell ! Who's the terrorist here!?"
His outburst of furious rebuke reached even Song Heping in the back of the pickup.
Song Heping remained silent.
Because there was nothing to say.
Indeed.
The man wasn't cursing in vain.
Niki and the others had kidnapped the man's uncle's family, and their thods were indeed despicable.
Besides, Song Heping had realized by now.
That Adrian was indeed a CIA agent as Avanti had claid; now he had confirmation from Rabbani's own mouth.
It seed the Revolutionary Brigade was also aware of Adrian's background, their cooperation perhaps motivated by mutual interests.
With that, all the current events beca quite ludicrous.
The CIA was actually controlling drug trafficking here while the military seed to be taking the opportunity to eliminate them.
The question was, what motivated the military?
Could it be for justice?
Whether others believed it or not, Song Heping didn't buy it.
Just like soone with a dirty behind points at another with a dirty behind and says—hey, you've got crap on your backside!
And the other retorts, "So do you!"
Thinking about it, Song Heping found the logic behind all this increasingly comical.
The world was too magical, reality always that darkly humorous.
Mist was taken aback.
He hadn't expected Rabbani to have such a strong reaction.
But once he cald down, he wanted to retort but felt like there was nothing to say.
What Rabbani said didn't seem wrong.
It's just that from his point of view, it looked so, while from his own, there were very righteous reasons—after all, he felt he was here to liberate the Afghan people.
"There's no road ahead!"
The headlights of the pickup illuminated a hillside up ahead.
The road that had led here seed to have turned into a narrow mountain path for climbing.
Song Heping shouted, "Quick, get out of the car, we're going into the mountains and keep heading south."
"Are you really planning to enter Persia?" Mist's face looked troubled.
Song Heping retorted, "Do you have a choice?"
Mist was speechless again.
Death was certain either way.
He decided to be resolute, "Alright, let's go!"
The group got out of the car, and after gathering their personal belongings, they prepared to head into the mountains.
Song Heping looked back at the pickup and said to Mist and the others, "You go ahead, I'll handle sothing and follow."
After speaking, he ran back to the pickup.
...
About ten minutes after Song Heping and his group disappeared into the highland mountainous border area, the first Revolutionary Brigade ard pickup arrived.
Several ard mbers stopped about a dozen ters away from where Song Heping and company had left their vehicle, jumped out, and then cautiously approached it.
Soon one of the ard mbers who walked in front shouted, "No one's here, they ran."
The others then relaxed, letting their guns droop, and slowly surrounded the vehicle.
User Comments
0 comments from readers