The low-frequency hum of bombers penetrating through the clouds echoed in the sky.
The northwestern sky turned ocher red, and the hundred-ter-high wall of sand was advancing at a speed of eighty kiloters per hour.
At that mont, the Mossad attack squad on the "Black Hawk" helicopter also saw the distant "sand wall".
"There's a sandstorm ahead, we can't continue forward."
"Just a bit further!"
Yager, the team leader, stood behind the pilot, unwilling to abandon the pursuit so easily.
Turning back now would be a wasted effort.
Searching for Song Heping again would require considerable ti, and by then, he might have already exited the Alish Desert and reached the areas near the Suez Canal.
That place is Egypt's heavy shipping region with many military deploynts, flying a helicopter openly to kill soone there would be pure madness.
Previously, they had avoided Egyptian Army radar surveillance by flying low, but now calculating fuel, they couldn't continue this chase; otherwise, they'd run out of return fuel.
"Fly over, we will rappel down! You guys leave imdiately!"
"My God! You're crazy! Commander!"
The pilot was already drenched in sweat.
He wasn't part of Mossad, he was an elite pilot temporarily assigned from the Air Force.
Risking life like this wasn't their style.
Everyone knew Mossad mbers were lunatics, but he wasn't!
"Hurry!"
Yager suddenly drew his pistol and pressed it against the pilot's forehead.
"You're insane, Major?!"
The pilot scread.
Yager's eyes were now red, screaming madly, "Fly over! Catch up! Let us down!"
"You can get down right now!"
"Too far!"
"If you shoot, everyone dies!"
"Compared to completing the mission, dying isn't a big deal!"
"Major, you are crazy!"
"Anyone in Mossad isn't normal!"
Finally, the pilot yielded.
He realized he couldn't reason or converse with an extraordinary human being.
That would be tantamount to harming himself.
Seeing this madman's state, he might fire at his head if provoked...
"Alright, I'll fly!"
The pilot lightly pressed the throttle, manipulating the control stick to accelerate the "Black Hawk" helicopter, hoping to reach the designated location faster to let them descend.
Yager turned and walked into the cabin, yelling at the assault team mber near the cabin machine gun: "Open fire! Kill them all!"
"The wind and sand are strong! Hard to aim, need to get closer..."
"Get lost, you idiot!"
Yager directly shoved the machine gunner aside, taking charge himself.
The outside had already turned dusty, making visibility blurry.
They were still about a thousand ters away from Song Heping.
This distance indeed couldn't accurately hit the target.
But Yager didn't care.
Seeing Song Heping was like seeing his archenemy.
That guy who left the worst mark on his command record was just a thousand ters away.
He wished he could tear this bastard apart with large-caliber machine gun fire! Scatter him to bits!
Zzzzzz—
The motor of the Gatling machine gun on the cabin side began to spin, bullets sprayed out of the gun barrel like raindrops, firing like a thread of fire toward the rapidly fleeing Song Heping and his companions.
Ahead, gullies and dunes crisscrossed.
"The sandstorm's vanguard will reach in less than thirty minutes!"
Antonov's voice was shredded by the wind.
Pop, pop, pop, pop—
Pop, pop, pop, pop—
Yellow dust splashed about ten to twenty ters around them.
These were the bullet splashes forming as bullets densely hit the sand.
Jiang Feng, who was weak monts ago, now driven by survival instinct also began to run.
Song Heping shouted at Antonov: "Help carry her and run!"
They imdiately carried Sara, one on each side like holding a scarecrow.
It was a desperate escape.
The helicopter would soon close in if they didn't run fast enough, entering the shooting range of its cabin machine guns, and then they'd be turned into a honeycomb.
The wind carried increasingly dense and nurous sand particles, hitting everyone's faces like buckshot, rendering them unable to open their eyes.
"No ti to reach a building, jump into the riverbed!"
Song Heping pointed at the nearest gully ahead.
That was a dry riverbed.
Only twenty ters away.
The sandstorm was already here, with about a hundred ters left to that dilapidated building, it was clearly out of reach.
Sandstorm ahead, "Black Hawk" helicopter and Gatling machine gun behind.
Hesitating a second would an death.
Desperately, they ran with all their might to the gully's edge, then leaped in.
The dry riverbed was about three to four ters deep, filled with years of accumulated soft sand below.
Sara scread as she landed.
The impact caused her wounds to throb painfully again.
But now was not the ti for pitying a lady; Song Heping ignored her injuries, hoisting her up again and rushing to the edge of the riverbed, huddling against the eroded rock wall to hide in the alcove.
They swiftly used scarves to cover their mouths and noses, then huddled together, clinging tightly to the rock wall, trying to shrink as much as possible into the alcove.
From afar, the leading pilot on one of the helicopters started to narrow his pupils.
"Hover, rappel!"
At last, he heard the mad Major Yager's shout.
Imdiately, he hovered the helicopter at ten ters altitude.
Ropes were thrown down; Mossad's assault team mbers agile like monkeys, four at a ti, rappelled down with speed.
But just halfway through their rappelling, the sandstorm arrived.
The lead "Black Hawk" helicopter was instantly swallowed by the yellow wall of sand...
The pilot saw the windshield turn entirely yellow, his vision completely lost; instinctively, he pulled the lever, trying to elevate the helicopter to escape.
However, this sudden elevation spelled doom for the Mossad assault team mbers rappelling down.
The sandstorm and the abrupt elevation caused several rappelling team mbers to lose their balance in mid-air, their grip slipping...
"Ah—"
Cries of agony followed as so people fell directly from seven to eight ters into the ground...
Then, the instrunt panel inside the "Black Hawk" helicopter started to beep warnings, red lights flashing.
Various gauges fluctuated, indicating abnormal flight attitude and decreasing engine rpm.
"The engine's ingested sand! It's going to stall..."
Before he could finish, the two "Black Hawk" helicopters wobbled like drunkards, finally losing control and crashing onto the ground.
A Mossad assault team mber below was unfortunately too slow to escape; so were flung out and injured on the ground, unable to move...
They could only watch helplessly as the massive "Black Hawk" helicopter plumted from the sky, crashing toward them.
The rotor blades severed the bodies of several team mbers, thighs, arms, even bodies halved; blood and flesh sprayed across the yellow sand, screams more harrowing than damned spirits being boiled in oil in the Avici Hell...
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