Mist turned back and gestured for Rabbani to get out of the way and stop causing trouble.
Rabbani could only retreat, but Song Heping quickly grabbed him, shook his head fiercely, and then gave Mist a stern look.
Mist imdiately understood that letting Rabbani back away at that mont could potentially cause noise, which might lead to an uncontrollable situation.
Song Heping signaled Rabbani to wait in place and then gave Mist a aningful glance, pointing ahead.
Truth be told, although they weren't trained in the sa unit, their tactical awareness was remarkably alike.
Mist nodded imdiately, indicating he understood.
Ahead was a bend.
The two of them tiptoed to the corner, knives drawn, waiting.
The sound of chatting was getting closer.
It soon reached them.
Just as the first silhouette appeared in front of them, Song Heping struck first, holding the knife handle backhand, blade outward, charging forward in a lunge while the blade hissed across the opponent's neck.
The three knives were trophies picked up from soldiers of the Revolutionary Brigade. These knives, unlike the common military issue daggers and utility knives, were slender and curved with an extrely sharp point, in the traditional shape of the Persian Pesh-kabz.
The Pesh-kabz was extrely popular in Persia, Pakistan, and Afghan, mostly used as a close-guard blade. So resembled an S-shape, while others were more like an R-shape.
But this knife had a benefit, it was perfectly suited for being held in reverse.
As Song Heping charged forward, he saw the number of opponents.
Three n!
"Damn!"
The word flashed through Song Heping's mind like lightning.
The three opponents, startled by Song Heping's sudden assault, froze, failing to even rember to call for help.
The man whose neck was slashed by the Pesh-kabz felt a chilling, burning pain at his neck and instinctively reached to touch it.
This touch was disastrous.
Blood spurted out.
An arc of blood shot out, creating a mist of blood around him.
He tried to yell.
But found that his throat was leaking air...
That's right.
Song Heping's slash had severed the trachea.
Before the other two could react, Song Heping used the montum from his surge forward to pass the second person. The position of his knife unchanged, it sliced across the neck of the first Revolutionary Brigade soldier and then the second.
Simultaneously, Mist also lunged out. Instead of slashing at the neck, he pinned down the third Revolutionary Brigade soldier against the ditch wall.
This soldier had begun to react and attempted to shout.
But Mist's left hand was faster, clamping over his mouth and nose and pressing his head against the ditch wall, causing dirt and small rocks to pour down.
Almost in sync, Mist's Pesh-kabz, held in his hand, stabbed upward from beneath the jaw, piercing through the tongue and then the upper jaw.
Because the blade was curved, it hooked onto the upper jawbone just like a skewer through at, stringing the mouth shut.
Poorly, tears stread down the soldier's face from the intense pain.
Mist showed no rcy, flipping the soldier over, wrapping his arm around his neck, and twisting powerfully!
Crack!
The neck of the Revolutionary Brigade soldier snapped.
The entire process was clean and efficient, without any hesitation or delay.
After all was done, Song Heping didn't stop imdiately but continued walking a few more steps, sticking close to the ditch wall at another bend to listen carefully. Only after confirming he heard no footsteps did he peek around the other end.
No one else was there.
Only these three.
It was probably a patrol from the Revolutionary Brigade that knew about the ditch and understood it extended far, so they had stationed three n here.
What they hadn't anticipated was underestimating the combat prowess of Song Heping and his n, who silently took out three soldiers not more than two hundred ters away under their watch.
Song Heping returned to the site of the killing, glancing at the Revolutionary Brigade soldier on the ground.
He wasn't dead yet.
On the ground, he writhed like a squirming earthworm, his hands futilely covering the wound, blood gushing out from between his fingers.
Mist frowned and said to Song Heping, "You didn't sever his artery?"
Song Heping didn't want to check the wound, pulling away the man's hands would probably spray his own face with blood.
Seeing the man's agony, he sighed, crouched down, plunged his knife into the man's heart, and then gave it a twist.
The struggling Revolutionary Brigade soldier on the ground went limp like a deflated plastic doll, instantly collapsing.
Very soon, the last trace of life flickered across his pupils and then vanished as he breathed his last breath and died.
Rabbani, watching the whole process from the sidelines, felt his blood run cold.
Both n before him were lethal.
Butchering people as if they were chickens, he felt fortunate not to have crossed them, or else...
Thinking this, he instinctively reached to touch his own neck, feeling a shiver there.
"Look for water and food, and check for ammo and grenades to resupply."
While speaking, Song Heping began to search the bodies on his own.
There were three bodies altogether, one for each to search.
After the search, finding water was the most relieving.
The water found on the three n was enough for a few more days' sustenance for them all.
"Let's go."
After finishing the task, Song Heping did not delay.
"We need to get out of here quickly. The people on the ridge are likely to soon notice their teammates are missing."
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