"Damn..."
Song Heping pulled off the pin and held the hand grenade in his hand.
"I still have twenty million left to spend..."
He wasn't worried about his siblings' living expenses anymore.
The only thing Song Heping had now was regret.
A full twenty million US dollars!
This damn...
Didn't get to enjoy it, and now I'm gonna die here.
Being a rcenary...
It's really crappy.
One day you're fine, the next you could be dead.
I was thinking of expanding the "Musician" defense business.
Never thought I'd die here on the Persian Plateau.
What a pity...
If only I had a satellite phone.
Just one...
Rabbani was curled up nearby, his hand trembling as he pulled at the grenade.
Song Heping looked at him worriedly, concerned that this guy might accidentally blow himself up before the enemy even reached him.
Getting stuck with such a pig-headed teammate, truly my bad luck for eight lifetis.
Song Heping now understood why old soldiers hated taking newbies online.
An incompetent leader can get three armies killed.
Incompetent teammates can get yourself killed...
The blind man next door in my village even said I'd flourish once I passed 26 years old.
Flourish my ass.
Now I'm probably going to ascend early, up to heaven...
Just as Song Heping was hiding behind a mound, brooding and preparing to take a few unlucky bastards with him, he suddenly heard various screams and shouts around him.
Listening closely, he heard so new gunshots mixed in with the gunfire.
It wasn't the sound of G3 automatic rifles used by the Persian border police.
It sounded more like the crisp firing of M4A1 assault rifles.
Soon, Song Heping heard the chef's voice.
It was the chef using a gaphone, shouting, "Everyone drop your guns! Otherwise, I'll kill your commander!"
The chef?!
Song Heping's eyes suddenly lit up with a glimr of hope.
This guy actually made it in ti!?
"Did you hear that, put down your guns! Surrender! If you don't want to die, drop your guns!"
"Chef! Chef!"
Song Heping shouted.
Maybe it was too far, but the chef didn't hear him at first.
Song Heping didn't dare to show his head and continued to hide behind the mound shouting, "Chef, I'm here! These guys might be corrupt cops! Be careful!"
This ti the chef seed to hear, albeit dimly.
"Nobody move! Drop your guns now, I'll count to three, and if you don't, you're dead!"
At this mont, the chef was holding a gaphone in one hand and a pistol in the other, its barrel already pressed against Lieutenant Abel's head.
The whole squad had rushed over after hearing the gunfire here.
Earlier, the chef had led his n here to rendezvous with Song Heping, and the firefight took place less than three kiloters from them.
At first, they barely heard so gunfire, followed by the sound of explosions.
How could there be gunfire and explosions here this early in the morning?
Grey Wolf imdiately beca alert, suggesting it might be Song Heping!
So, the whole gang rushed over.
Luckily they arrived in ti, or Song Heping would have been dead by now.
"We are from the border police squad! You dare kill us here? Don't you want to leave Persia alive?!"
Although Lieutenant Abel knew things were going south, he still tried to intimidate the chef, attempting to scare them away.
If the other side showed even a slight laxity, he could find a chance to counterattack.
After all, his n outnumbered them, and they had managed to take him hostage by appearing suddenly from behind.
He didn't know where these people had co from.
He also had no idea what kind of force they were.
But he was certain these weren't US Special Forces.
Arican forces wouldn't dare to openly deploy special forces into Persia.
Aside from US Special Forces, that only left rcenaries.
Yes!
It must be rcenaries!
Guessing the chef's identity seed to give Abel a bit more confidence.
rcenaries dare to kill cops here?
Do they not want to live?!
He thought he could intimidate them, at least make them a bit fearful, perhaps even willing to negotiate with him.
Worst case, let them go and he too would pull out.
That way, at least his identity as a corrupt cop wouldn't be exposed.
But he never imagined the chef simply didn't care at all, coldly saying, "Who are you trying to scare?! Do you know who we are?"
"Who are you?"
Abel was also very curious.
"You cannot possibly threaten US forces."
"Of course not! We are rcenaries."
"rcenaries? You're looking for death! Do you know where you are?! This is Persia!"
"I know, I can read GPS and maps." The chef wore a disdainful expression, "Suka! A few border cops dare to ss with my brother?! You clearly don't know how many ways there are to write 'death'!"
Saying this, tired of talking to Abel, the chef's gaze shifted toward those border policen standing dazedly in place, unsure of what to do.
"I'm starting to count jetzt, one!"
"Two!"
The site was eerily silent, all the border policen looking from their boss, Lieutenant Abel, to the chef, whose serious deanor seed no joke.
Seemingly, they could only see four rcenaries.
Four n?
Daring to oppose an entire squad on their own turf?
The reluctant border policen were unwilling to imdiately give up their firearms.
But Lieutenant Abel was in their hands.
Several people looked toward the second platoon leader.
The platoon leader gathered his courage and shouted, "Let Lieutenant Abel go! If you dare to kill him, you won't get away, we have over a hundred n..."
He hadn't even finished his sentence when the chef counted to "three".
"Three!"
Bang—
A gunshot rang out from afar.
The platoon leader's head exploded, his body fell stiffly backward, cracking on the ground, instantly lifeless.
All the border policen shuddered in fear, and seeing the state of the platoon leader, they understood that snipers from these rcenaries were lurking nearby, their muzzles aid here.
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