From the direction of Latagua, 400 ters above ground.
Two Colombian National Army Black Hawk helicopters skimd the edge of the jungle.
Inside the cabin of each helicopter sat a reconnaissance squad from the 26th Leticia Jungle Brigade's first battalion, each squad comprised of nine mbers.
Lieutenant Louis, the squad leader, crouched at the edge of the cabin with binoculars searching the jungle below. Beside him was the machine gunner, operating an M240 machine gun and keeping a vigilant watch over the surroundings.
Just recently, the 26th Brigade had received orders that a fierce battle appeared to have broken out near Latagua, close to the border river. The sounds of explosions were intense and could be heard from over ten kiloters away.
Based on the coordinates, it seed to be AUC territory.
The AUC had several barracks nearby, and the Colombian governnt army had long maintained a policy of non-interference with them.
In a sense, the ELN and FARC were the true enemies of the governnt army. This involved so issues of stance; the AUC shared similar interests to maintain with the governnt army, unlike with the ELN and FARC, who were more like archenemies.
Therefore, the Colombian governnt army had not been very proactive in rounding up the AUC, often turning a blind eye to their actions, letting them battle it out with the other two major ard groups.
However, this ti the high command had ordered the 26th Jungle Brigade to dispatch a reconnaissance squad to the scene to find out exactly what had happened.
If it was the ELN and the AUC fighting each other, they were to act as if they had seen nothing.
If other situations were discovered, the reconnaissance squad could report back and proceed with flexible asures.
This area was a jungle close to the border, through which drug trafficking organizations also passed on their way to Ecuador, then from Ecuador's ports out to sea, smuggling into the United States using submarines or ships.
The Colombian governnt army might ignore the squabbles of those ard groups, but they did take action against drug trafficking organizations.
After all, the Colombian governnt did receive so aid from the United States every year. Although no one wanted to go to war with the drug traffickers, so results had to be delivered.
Louis's gaze, through the binoculars, scrutinized the ground. Soon, he was attracted by a truck driving on an unpaved road.
It was a local truck known as "Qiwa," quite common, with a payload of around 5 tons.
Normally, such a truck would not attract attention, but this one was different; it was covered with tarpaulin, sealed tight, hiding everything within.
The experienced Lieutenant Louis felt there was sothing off about this vehicle.
Could it be a drug transport vehicle?
Was the firefight due to a conflict between drug traffickers and ard groups?
The situation here was quite complicated.
Ard groups were involved in anything, including colluding with drug traffickers. They also carried out kidnappings but sotis would clash with unfamiliar gangs.
Especially in the border areas, such incidents were not uncommon.
"Let's go down and check out that truck!"
Lieutenant Louis issued the order to the pilot.
Soon, the two helicopters, one following the other in a combat formation, began to descend, heading toward the moving "Qiwa" truck.
On the dirt road, inside the Qiwa truck's cargo hold, a pair of eyes watched every move of the two helicopters in the sky through a gap in the tarpaulin.
Seeing the helicopters begin to lower their altitude, the cook pulled his head back in and, hunched over, quickly walked to the back of the driver's cab, knocking on the rear window.
"They're coming down, looks like they've spotted us!"
The cook's face was steely, his expression grave as if facing a formidable enemy.
Song Heping slid open the rear window and said to the cook, "Wait for the right mont, and take it out. We're one kiloter from the jungle edge. We'll get off there."
"All right!"
The cook, not one to waste words, turned and returned to the cargo hold, saying to White Bear, "We still have an M72, right!?"
"One left!"
Amid the ruckus of the jostling cargo hold, White Bear gestured towards Disaster Star.
Disaster Star took out the last remaining M72 rocket launcher.
He and White Bear each had one.
But one had been used at Camp K1.
Only this last survivor remained.
The cook pointed to the sky and loudly instructed, "White Bear, get ready. When the tarp is opened, you take out one of the helicopters!"
White Bear asked, "What about the other one?"
The cook replied, "Don't worry about that! We're one kiloter away from our disembarkation point. Grey Wolf and Song He will secure the position. Once you fire, everyone will imdiately suppress the other helicopter with gunfire, and we'll make our escape while they're evading."
White Bear understood that from the disembarkation point, it was about five kiloters away from the riverbank boarding point.
If they couldn't shake off the helicopter, it would be difficult for the group to safely reach the evacuation point.
But now it seed he had no room to worry about these issues.
That's how the battlefield is.
Sotis, you can only take one step at a ti.
Thinking too much is not as good as surrendering.
If you don't surrender, just do your best.
"Fine!"
He turned back to Disaster Star's side, took the M72 rocket launcher tied to the backpack on his back, checked it, flipped off the safety, and prepared to fire.
The cook then walked toward the front, near the driver's cabin, loosened the front half of the tarp's ties and held them in his hand.
Now, with just one pull, he could uncover part of the tarp.
He turned to everyone and said, "Anyone who doesn't want to beco a roast suckling pig should crouch on the left!"
Then, pointing to the right, he said to White Bear, "You shoot from the right side!"
"No problem!"
White Bear crouched to the left, shouldering an M72 rocket launcher and ready to fire at any mont.
The helicopters' altitude was getting lower and lower.
Soon, the helicopters had descended to just over ten ters high.
"Team B, go intercept them!"
Aboard the Black Hawk Helicopter where Team A was positioned, Lieutenant Louis issued a command to another helicopter through the radio.
The Black Hawk Helicopter with Team B tilted its nose slightly and accelerated rapidly, rushing to the front of the Qiwa truck. Just as the pilot was about to rotate the helicopter to block the road, he heard a shout from inside the cabin: "Watch out!"
The pilot imdiately stopped descending and pulled out the control stick.
In that instant, the Qiwa truck shot past beneath the belly of the helicopter.
The roof of the truck was less than 4 ters away from the helicopter.
This distance was already extrely dangerous.
Onboard the other helicopter, Lieutenant Louis, seeing this, imdiately ordered his machine gunner: "Give them a warning shot at the truck!"
Warning shots are generally not ant to be lethal, but to warn the other party not to be reckless and to obey commands.
The machine gunner rotated the M240 machine gun, aiming the barrel about ten ters ahead of the truck and started a sweeping fire.
Ratatatatatatatatata————
Inside the cab, Grey Wolf saw a line of dirt being kicked up not far ahead on the ground, and quickly turned the steering wheel.
The truck swerved into the bushes beside the dirt road like a drunk, hurtling through the vegetation for more than a dozen ters before wobbling back onto the road.
The people in the truck were thrown from side to side as if riding on rocking chairs.
Everyone's heart was in their throat, with all guns at the ready, prepared to engage in a firefight at any mont.
The two hostages might not be ordinary in front of civilians, but in front of these desperate rcenaries, they were utterly weak.
Ivan's face was as white as the snow in Siberia.
The canvas had no bulletproof capability at all.
If the machine guns on the helicopter aid at the truck, there would definitely be a few more corpses here.
His throat felt unbearably dry, he desperately tried to produce so saliva to moisten it, but after a long while, he found himself secreting loneliness, his mouth dry from fear and unable to produce a single drop of moisture.
Seras, being from South Arica with a bronze complexion, didn't show any paleness. However, his eyes were like a mouse under a cat's gaze, his fear indescribable.
"Team B, try intercepting them again. If they dare to break through, open fire directly,"
"Roger that, Lieutenant!"
Team B quickly responded.
Once again, the Black Hawk Helicopter lightly dipped its nose, speeding past the truck.
The Air Force is the Air Force; its speed and battlefield superiority are absolutely crushing.
To a lone truck, they were nothing but fish in a barrel.
This was why Lieutenant Louis remained so calm.
Of course, if he had known what kind of desperadoes were hidden inside the truck, he probably wouldn't dare intercept them at all and would choose to strafe them, turning the truck into pieces for safety.
The Black Hawk Helicopter descended again, this ti about fifty ters ahead of the truck and successfully blocked the road.
The pilot was showing off his skills.
He intentionally flew the helicopter only five ters above the ground.
At this altitude, the truck could not collide with the helicopter, but the machine gunner inside the cabin could directly strafe the truck's cabin.
The machine gunner had already aid at the Qiwa truck.
He was staring intently at the driver's cabin, at the person behind the windshield.
"Idiot, it's so obvious..."
Before he could finish his contempt, suddenly, several bullet holes appeared in the windshield of the driver's cabin.
The other scouts in the helicopter cabin actually didn't hear the gunshots.
After all, the sound of the propeller was too loud.
When the machine gunner fell back dead, the other scouts in the cabin didn't understand what had happened.
At that mont, the tarp on the Qiwa truck suddenly flew up, slung off by the truck like a person sprinting while shedding their clothes, tossing it into the air.
White Bear stood up, shouldering the M72 rocket launcher.
Finally, soone in the Black Hawk Helicopter with Team B blocking the road realized what was happening.
"Rocket launcher!"
The truck and the helicopter were only about 25 ters apart at this point.
The pilot frantically pulled on the control stick while stepping on the balance pedals, attempting to rapidly lift the helicopter.
But it was all too late...
Whoosh—
A rocket fired from the M72, trailing a tail of white smoke, and headed directly towards the panicked Black Hawk Helicopter.
"Ahh—"
"Ahh—"
"Climb!"
Boom—
Amidst panicked cries, the helicopter exploded in midair into a fireball.
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