Song Heping no longer had a choice; now, it all depended on speed!
Speed!
More important than anything else!
Trying to fix the jam would undoubtedly be foolish.
Song Heping reacted by instinct, choosing to discard the MP5 and quickly pulling out the Glock 17, moving swiftly towards the opponent's blind spot while firing.
The bullet accurately wedged into the opponent's eye socket, shattering the night vision device.
Once in the blind spot, Song Heping didn't pause but imdiately started moving quickly along the other side of the container.
Sure enough, just as he left his original position, the last Mossad agent jumped down from the top of the container, firing fiercely at the spot where Song Heping had just stood.
But little did he know, Song Heping had already circled behind him along the container, aiming at his back and pulling the trigger.
Poof—
Thud—
The sound of the skull shattering in the darkness was particularly eerie.
Song Heping stepped forward and pulled out the opponent's hand grenade, making a simple trap mine based on his habit.
This device wasn't just ant to kill.
Of course, it could kill.
But it also served another purpose.
If triggered.
The explosion could alert the placer of the enemy's location.
At that mont, Song Heping had gone berserk.
The opponents were world-class agents, each one top-tier.
But so what?
Song Heping had no ti to consider who was top-tier.
He wasn't afraid.
Nor could he be.
Because even a hint of fear would lead to a dead end.
He continued sprinting through the container area, aiming to leave the port district as quickly as possible.
The port district was no longer safe.
It seed that evacuating Liben by sea was also unsafe.
Mossad's intervention made things complicated.
In a secluded corner, Song Heping hid in the shadows.
A sudden burning sensation ca from his ribs, like needles piercing his bones.
Song Heping groaned, squeezing into the gap between containers, feeling the bullet-proof plate's warhead dent with his fingers.
He had taken several shots earlier; the opponent was using an MP5 submachine gun as well.
But this gun used 9mm bullets, which shouldn't pose too much threat to the bulletproof vest, even at close range, it shouldn't cause such intense pain.
Clearly, the impact was too great, possibly cracking his ribs.
The warhead was still lodged in the bullet-proof plate; Song Heping fiercely pulled it out and examined it.
"Damn!"
He suddenly noticed the warhead was steel-tipped!
Typically, MP5 warheads weren't made of this material.
Suddenly, he rembered sothing, hurriedly took off his own MP5, removed the magazine, and looked at the bullets inside.
The warheads were clearly custom-made; the propellant was certainly reconfigured, and although this gun was still an MP5 submachine gun, it was actually a special model.
"Damn Mossad!"
They really gave him face, using custom armor-piercing rounds.
A tallic taste spread in his mouth, and he spat out the blood.
Suddenly, a loud explosion was heard from afar.
He could tell it was where he had placed the simple trap mine.
"So fast!"
Song Heping cursed inwardly.
Mossad's combat style was indeed fierce, like a bone that refused to be shaken off, constant and relentless.
No matter how many of them were killed, they kept coming.
One had to admit, this intelligence agency was indeed formidable.
Footsteps echoed in the container passage ahead.
Soone was approaching.
Song Heping sighed lightly towards the sky.
Damn, tonight really was deadly.
It seed there was no end to this.
Escaping this port district was proving to be extrely difficult.
He tried contacting Jiang Feng again.
But there was no signal.
Which was expected.
Mossad definitely had a high-powered jamming vehicle nearby.
Suppressing his communications.
Everyone was an expert, not foolish.
Song Heping took a deep breath, waiting for the footsteps to get closer, then rolled his last smoke bomb into the main passage along the ground.
The instant the red smoke rose, the Mossad squad responsible for the search paused for half a second.
They were puzzled for a reason.
They hadn't found Song Heping's location.
Yet he had thrown a smoke bomb, effectively exposing his position, clearly seeking death.
But they quickly realized sothing was wrong.
Along with the smoke bomb, there was a hand grenade.
"Hand grenade!"
Soone shouted a warning.
Everyone scattered to dodge.
Boom—
Taking advantage of the delay caused by the explosion, Song Heping had already slipped away.
"He's over there!"
"8 o'clock direction!"
Everyone pursued in the 8 o'clock direction.
Soon, stacked containers with skull warning signs appeared in front.
It was a hazardous chemical storage area.
"Be careful!" The ti bought allowed Song Heping to break through the thin iron sheet and squeeze into the adjacent chemical container.
"This is dangerous chemicals!"
One container door was slightly ajar, clearly soone had entered.
The Mossad squad leader hesitated.
To go in?
Or not?
This place was no joke.
Typically, if the enemy was inside, they should throw a grenade or shock bomb to stun them first.
But now, this was a hazardous chemical storage area; throwing a grenade here...
If it exploded, no one would leave alive.
"Put on gas masks, go in and take a look."
After thirty seconds, the assault team finally donned their gas masks.
The lead agent gently pushed the container door open under his teammate's cover...
Everyone held their breath, aiming their weapons forward.
They chose to stand outside the container, so firing wouldn't ignite the chemicals, at least the probability was much lower, relatively safer.
As soon as the door opened, soone heard the sound of a tal object falling.
"Run! It's a trap!"
The leader realized they were tricked.
It was a trap!
But it was too late.
The grenade fell and exploded inside the narrow container, turning the chemical inside into white powder that filled the air. At the core of the explosion, a ball of fire ignited and quickly expanded, creating a blast reaction similar to a thermo-baric bomb.
Boom—
The entire container turned to shrapnel.
Nearby containers began exploding in succession.
The Mossad assault team was vaporized in the fire, leaving no remains.
Hundreds of ters away, Song Heping still felt the power of the explosion; the surrounding containers rattled, as if an invisible hand had grabbed them like a bunch of matchboxes and shook them vigorously.
Earlier, he had purposely left the container door slightly open, making an apparent flaw, but he had long climbed to the top of the container and escaped from above.
Inside a box truck outside the port area, the Mossad operation commander removed his headset and slamd it onto the seat.
"Who can tell who this guy is?!"
Everyone around remained silent.
He suddenly rembered sothing and picked up the satellite phone, dialing Kelly's number.
"Kelly, didn't you say this guy was just a rcenary company boss?!"
"Yager, he indeed is..."
"Bullshit! Your information is wrong! I need to verify the data!"
"Yager, actually he served in China's Special Forces before."
"China!? Which Special Forces!?"
"Can't find out..."
"Can't find out?!"
Yager felt deceived.
"Can't find out ans top secret! Damn it! Why didn't you tell before?!"
"I warned you, his combat skills are fierce, many of our operatives have died at his hands."
"Bullshit! Your n were trash anyway!"
"Yager, mind your tone!"
"I've lost over a dozen elite operatives. You tell to mind my tone?!"
"My team is already on their way; we'll team up shortly, and he won't be able to escape."
Thirty minutes later.
On a cargo ship by the dock, Song Heping kicked open the ventilation cover, looking out to the pitch-black sea.
Earlier, he was surrounded by over a dozen Mossad agents, fighting and retreating, forced to board the cargo ship.
He planned to jump into the water and escape under the cover of night.
But he quickly spotted a fast boat approaching.
Three Mossad agents stood on the bow.
The leader, a bald man, was loading single-headed rounds into a shotgun, his left ear Bluetooth flashing red, clearly just receiving the alarm from the command post attack.
"China People!"
The bald man shouted in Hebrew-accented English, firing the shotgun at the oil barrel on the ship's side.
Fire erupted, illuminating the deck.
The bald man roared in the flas: "You think those little tricks can fool us? You can't escape!"
Song Heping retreated into the cabin, tearing open his tactical vest to reveal the C4 explosives strapped to his chest.
These were collected from Mossad's vehicle.
Now ca the final mont where they might prove useful.
If he had to die, he would take a few with him, not to be lonely on the road to the Netherworld.
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