Pop pop—
Two bullets grazed the spot where Song Heping had just stood, monts after he had dived behind a tree.
"That was close!"
Song Heping broke out into a cold sweat.
Listening in every direction, watching every angle.
The keenest nerves and sharpest instincts of a special soldier had saved Song Heping's life once more.
As he darted behind the tree, Song Heping caught a glimpse of a black shadow about five or six ters away, also behind a tree.
Too close!
If it weren't for the opponent accidentally stepping on a dry branch and making a slight noise, Song Heping might already be dead by now.
Song Heping had no ti to think about how this person had suddenly flanked him, and he fired his gun as quickly as possible.
Pop pop pop—
Pop pop pop—
Both n opened fire continuously, unloading on each other.
But neither could get the better of the other.
Nobody dared to charge forward.
Soon, both had emptied their magazines and pulled out pistols to continue shooting.
During the exchange of fire, Song Heping felt a slight pain on his shoulder, as if sothing had tugged at him.
He knew he had been shot again, but at the mont, dopamine was being secreted crazily; he was in such an extre state of tension that he couldn't feel the pain.
The opponent's bullets ran out first.
Song Heping heard the sound of the slide locking back.
His Glock pistol still had two bullets left. He lunged forward, closing the distance to confront his assailant face-to-face with extre speed.
A few ters apart, Song Heping sprinted quickly.
The opponent had just loaded a new magazine but hadn't managed to release the slide when Song Heping was already upon him.
He thought this ti he could definitely shoot his opponent in the head.
Unexpectedly, the opponent was also tough, discarding his gun and lunging forward. Before Song Heping could stabilize his footing and aim at his head, his opponent had already pounced on him.
Pop pop—
Song Heping was forced to pull the trigger.
Both bullets hit the opponent's chest, but even so, the fierce collision knocked Song Heping straight to the ground.
"Pretty ruthless!"
Song Heping even admired his opponent a bit.
Such reaction speed, incredible!
He was worthy of the Green Berets' reputation.
If he had hesitated for even a fraction of a second, he would be dead by now.
Unexpectedly, his opponent had braced himself to take two pistol bullets to the chest.
The front chest was the best-protected part of a bulletproof vest, where the bulletproof plate was located.
Two 9mm bullets from a Glock couldn't penetrate it!
Instead, Song Heping was knocked to the ground, instantly put at a disadvantage.
The impact was trendous; Song Heping felt as if his chest had been hamred, making him montarily lose his breath.
His reaction was also swift; he perford a kip-up to stand back up.
But before he could react further, a strong arm wrapped around his neck while another large hand pressed on the back of his head, Song Heping could even sll the tobacco on the attacker's fingers.
A chokehold!
Song Heping instinctively dove forward, needing to dive then flip his opponent over his shoulder. He had to break this deadly hold before it was fully locked in place; otherwise, within a minute, he would faint due to insufficient blood supply to the brain.
But with this move, he felt like he was trying to throw a steel tower; the opponent didn't budge.
The shoulder throw couldn't be completed!
The strength and build of his opponent were beyond imagination!
Song Heping's skin crawled again.
Although it was too dark to see the opponent clearly, or to even have a chance to do so,
he could generally tell that the opponent was a power-type special soldier, much like White Bear.
Fighting in close quarters with such a guy, he was at a huge disadvantage!
The attacker not only had a strong body and frightening strength, but he was also very skilled in close combat. Realizing that Song Heping was trying to throw him off, the attacker imdiately used his knee to press against Song Heping's waist, preventing him from generating the power needed for a back throw.
Then, using his strong arms, he tightly wrapped around Song Heping's head. The attacker, feeling smug, brought his mouth close to Song Heping's ear, his breath from his nose spraying onto Song Heping's face, carrying a mix of tobacco and the scent of death into his nostrils.
"Little bastard! Let send you to hell!"
It was Roger, a mber of the Green Berets.
Roger hated Song Heping deeply.
This was the guy who lived through what he had caused!
It was he who killed three of his teammates!
Roger's eyes were bloodshot, burning with a vengeance as if he wanted to lt Song Heping on the spot!
The Colonel's tactic had worked!
He had been sent alone to this spot to set up an ambush while leading the remaining three team mbers as bait.
The judgnt was too accurate!
Sure enough, he had fled here.
"Die!"
He hissed through clenched teeth into Song Heping's ear, applying the utmost force on his grip.
Song Heping's heart sank.
Damn it, he had truly fallen into a trap.
Complacent, he had always enjoyed setting traps.
Yet, he had underestimated the Green Berets.
Veterans in tactics like them would never just passively take hits and keep playing the sa tricks, as doing so would make them easy to predict.
They are both old foxes, masters of jungle warfare; one wouldn't be any stupider than the other.
But regrets were already useless.
Song Heping felt the scenery before his eyes begin to darken, tiny stars began to dance in front of him, his head and blood vessels felt like they were about to explode, and his skull gradually beca heavier.
Roger's arm was blocking the arterial blood flow to his neck, cutting off the supply of blood to Song Heping's brain, enveloping him in a state of oxygen deprivation.
It felt like his entire body suddenly beca cold as if he had fallen into an ice cellar, his nose and respiratory tract seed to lose function. No matter how much his chest and abdon tried to squeeze, he couldn't feel any air entering his lungs.
His chest began to feel stuffy, his eyeballs bulged, and his blood vessels in his brain started hurting...
These were the beginnings of symptoms of hypoxia!
Stay calm! Stay calm!
I can't die! I can't die!
My younger brothers and sisters are still at ho!
I can't die!
But he couldn't manage to throw off Roger, who was almost two ters tall and weighed over 200 pounds, he lowered his head and tried again, still unable to shake Roger off his back.
"Hehe, stop struggling, baby, I won't let you die right away. I'll only make you pass out, then I'll tie you up and hang you from a tree, then I'll cut your flesh off slice by slice..."
Roger vented his frustrations, confident of his victory, beginning to take joy in his triumph.
The words had barely left his mouth when Roger suddenly scread in pain.
Song Heping's bending to try a second overhead throw was actually a feint since there was no chance it would succeed.
He was desperately trying to move his neck and body slightly forward, to gain just a bit of distance from Roger's face, and that would be enough!
He managed it, and then thrust back fiercely, slamming both himself and Roger against the trunk of a large tree, striking back with his head like a compressed spring suddenly releasing.
All of this was calculated very finely.
Song Heping was not short, and the back of his head just reached Roger's nose.
Crack—
A chilling crack ca from Roger's nose.
A heart-piercing pain made Roger burst into tears imdiately; his nose was hit so hard that a long snot hung comically and embarrassingly on his face.
The impact was trendous, shattering his nasal bones!
The area near the nasal bone is called the "danger triangle," rich in nerves and with very fragile and sensitive bones. Attacking here was incredibly painful, several tis more than other areas.
Even the broad-shouldered and sturdy Roger couldn't help but feel like his soul had left his body, unconsciously letting go of his grip to cover his nose.
Blood stread through his fingers, and Roger was in so much pain he nearly went mad!
Having narrowly escaped death, Song Heping quickly freed himself from Roger's hold, but his vision darkened, and he couldn't even keep his balance, staggering a few steps away.
But Song Heping's mind was still very clear; he knew he was in grave danger.
Roger's comrades would definitely arrive soon; if the two of them continued to tussle for just another minute, the other Green Berets would probably be on them.
Roger was dazed, and so was he.
It was a fight over who could recover their attacking strength first – the winner would be the survivor.
The handgun was lost, the rifle was out of bullets and there was no ti to reload.
But...
Wasn't there still a survival knife?
This was scavenged from the body of an AGLAN team mber, now sheathed on the outer side of his thigh.
Song Heping controlled his dizziness, reached for the survival knife, and lunged forward.
It was a do-or-die situation, it was either him or .
Only one could live between the two of them!
One cut!
Song Heping swung the first cut; the blade stabbed into the left side of Roger's neck.
Pfft—
Roger scread in pain again, pushing Song Heping with both hands, knocking him directly to the ground.
Song Heping got up and lunged again.
The second cut!
Still the right side, still the neck!
Pfft—
The knife was half in.
Song Heping felt sothing spray on his arm.
It was warm.
Roger tried again to push Song Heping away.
But Song Heping felt his hands were even weaker than a woman's.
He couldn't push Song Heping.
Song Heping withdrew the knife, then delivered the third strike!
Pfft!
This cut was clean and decisive.
Roger finally "behaved."
He sank down, his knees thudding to the ground.
Song Heping pulled out the knife, and Roger fell forward, lying in the rotting leaves.
He heard shouting and footsteps again.
Song Heping knelt down.
He breathed heavily, trying hard to regain his senses.
If he didn't leave now, he would die!
This thought kept flashing through his mind.
The fierce will to live made Song Heping shaky as he stood up and tried to run forward, even though his vision was still blurred.
Soon, he disappeared again into the deep jungle on a rainy night.
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