Queen truly deserved her title as one of the few female Special Soldiers in the paratroop division; her two shots eliminated the machine gunner and greatly assisted Song Heping.
An excellent soldier always knows what to do and when to do it, never misjudging the situation.
From the farm to the ambush point, Song Heping ran until he was out of breath, but the drive was over in a blink of an eye.
Sayif's bodyguards were not to be underestimated either. As mbers of the Suicide Squad, they rembered to adhere to the rules of warfare during the escape, which ant keeping the lights off.
Driving without lights is a skill of its own.
Unfortunately for them, Song Heping had night vision goggles.
He could even see the silhouette of the Suicide Squad mber driving the first SUV as the convoy entered the range of the claymore mines, and without hesitation, Song Heping pressed the remote control.
Good things truly are worthwhile, costing for a reason.
The two claymore mines exploded in the night, blooming flowers of death.
Each claymore mine contained 700 steel balls, making a total of 1400 when combined.
Placing them on either side of the dirt road to create an X-shaped crossfire pattern, they shot out like a rain of deadly darts, easily covering the convoy.
The imnse power made Song Heping's heart skip a beat, and he couldn't help but mutter to himself, "I hope I haven't killed anyone?"
Normally, in an ambush using mines, one would hope for the greatest possible destructive power, ideally, one mine could take out a tank.
But this ti was different.
Sayif was in one of the vehicles.
At this point, each end of the four-vehicle convoy was flanked by a pickup truck, with two SUVs sandwiched in between.
Sayif was definitely in one of those vehicles.
Song Heping didn't know exactly which vehicle the guy was in; after all, the cooks who had engaged the Suicide Squad hadn't relayed this intel to him, clearly, they didn't know either.
If Sayif was killed, a dead Sayif wouldn't be as valuable as a living one.
Thomas had emphasized that he wanted him alive.
That was worth five million dollars.
It would be a pity if the mines blew that away.
However, at that mont, Song Heping couldn't afford to worry too much. With at least a dozen bodyguards in Sayif's four-vehicle convoy, it wasn't up to him, Song Heping, to concern himself with their survival.
The first SUV beca a hornet's nest in the barrage of steel balls, riddled with countless dense bullet holes all over, and the driver's face took more than a dozen hits.
The power of the small steel balls was significant, entering the driver's face and chest from various positions, so embedding into his chest cavity and piercing the heart and lungs, others directly into his face, embedding in the jawbone, nasal bones, or skull, and so balls even burst his eyeballs.
For a mont, he was neither dead nor able to see, turned blind, the agony drove him temporarily insane, sitting in his seat wavering his arms and screaming in agony.
The co-driver was even unluckier than the driver; perhaps his skull wasn't as hard as the driver's, two fully kinetic steel balls penetrated his skull, sending him to et his maker.
The vehicles behind also took quite a few hits from the steel balls, and since the cars weren't bulletproof, they were easily penetrated, leaving everyone inside wounded, without exception.
The claymore mines bought Song Heping precious ti.
His position was still undetected, otherwise, hot bullets would surely be greeting him.
Seizing the opportunity, Song Heping quickly picked up the RPG launcher, took a rough aim—damn this dark night, he wasn't aiming for absolute precision, it was all about the feel of the shot.
The familiar feeling!
As the rocket, screaming sharply like a starving dog scrambling for food, plunged toward the pickup at the tail of the convoy equipped with a Desheka heavy machine gun, Song Heping suddenly rembered the sensation he felt years ago on the firing range.
He loved this stuff.
Loved it too much.
If the world's classic anti-armor weapons were ranked, the first place would not go to those with higher armor-penetration capabilities, more advanced aiming equipnt, and locking modes like TOW, Milan, Javelin, or Spigot.
But to this RPG launcher—an enduring classic.
Its thrilling trajectory, its flamboyant movents, the visible flight…
Though not advanced, its simple structure made it easy to maintain.
Though old, many years later, its outdated shaped charge warheads could still easily breach the weak points of so-called modern armored personnel carriers and even so tanks.
Is the old soldier still good for a al?
Yes!
Was there a cheaper and more practical armor-piercing weapon anywhere?
No!
Boom—
The rocket hit the pickup truck, entering from below the A-pillar, and exploded inside the cabin.
But at the mont of the explosion, Song Heping's heart skipped a beat again.
"Fuck!"
He cursed out loud,
at himself this ti.
A neglect!
If Sayif was in that pickup...
Damn, he would definitely be reduced to ashes...
But Song Heping couldn't dwell on it any longer, he dropped the launcher and began a tactical leap, moving away from his previous hiding spot at breakneck speed.
Indeed, as soon as he left, bullets poured down like raindrops on the mound, sending sand and stones flying.
The RPG is not without its flaws.
Its huge tail fla can injure soone standing ten ters behind it, and it cannot be fired in a confined space unless specially modified.
That's its drawback.
Nothing in the world is perfect, nor are people.
Song Heping began to maneuver, using the darkness to conceal his movents.
Moving…
Moving…
And then?
Of course, he couldn't keep moving indefinitely.
Once behind another mound, he imdiately turned and swiftly lay down, drew his gun, aid roughly, and fired — the tactical movent fluid like flowing water.
Pop Pop Pop—
Pop Pop Pop—
The two Suicide Squad mbers who had continually fired at his previous position from their vehicle were precisely shot down beside the car.
Injured or not, the bodyguards began to get out of the cars.
Even on the most heavily damaged lead car, there were still survivors struggling to get out.
This fucking…
Song Heping didn't think twice, pulling a hand grenade from his tactical vest.
Eliminating the opponent's remaining forces quickly was the key to survival.
He had no backup, nor could he count on the cooks and their team.
The seven of them including Samir and his two n, had to face dozens; they too were barely managing to keep their heads above water.
Pull the pin, throw!
Without any delay.
The throw was accurate; the grenade flew forty ters and rolled next to the lead car.
Accurately throwing a grenade is also a basic skill that an elite soldier must master.
Boom—
After the explosion, the two front car bodyguards who had survived the earlier mine attack finally stepped onto the path to heaven.
After sending off two n, Song Heping picked up his MK18 and began calling the roll.
Thanks to the two mines and one RPG attack, the convoy's bodyguards were either dead or injured, with every survivor visibly wounded.
The lead car was annihilated, and the tail car was destroyed.
The people who ca out of the remaining two SUVs were rapidly called out by Song Heping, falling one after another.
At that mont, Song Heping was on edge but felt an indescribable thrill.
The most primitive killing instinct within him completely stirred up from the depths.
By the convoy, Song Heping was no longer human; he was a god of death.
Excellent combat genes and talent, coupled with a solid tactical foundation and advantages in terrain and equipnt, completely compensated for the nurical inferiority.
Soon, apart from occasional crackling sounds from the burning vehicles, the surroundings were particularly quiet.
Song Heping, holding his gun, began to slowly approach.
This too was a skillful task.
Theory put into practice.
First, move to the rear of the convoy, then slowly start moving around.
From a distance, first scan the environnt around the convoy and the situation in the driver's cabin before drawing closer.
With no teammates nearby to provide cover, this cautious approach was actually the safest.
Reality once again proved that the combat skills taught by those experienced instructors on the training ground were definitely life-saving moves.
When he quietly moved to the other side, he found two bodyguards crouching behind the car wheels, sneakily planning to ambush him.
"Smart guys!"
Song Heping thought to himself.
Unfortunately …
They were out of luck.
Song Heping aid at the nearest one and pulled the trigger.
Pop Pop—
Two shots, two bullets, short bursts.
The first man was shot through the head, his brain matter burst out.
The other reacted very quickly, turning his gun around and swiftly aiming at Song Heping.
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