"Quick! Hold on to the rope!"
Song Heping tied the group into a centipede formation with the rope, then broke the last remaining glow stick and held it in his hand: "If you get blown away, head here imdiately!"
The glow stick emitted a red light in the sandstorm.
He recalled encountering a quicksand trap during extre survival training in the Taklamakan Desert years ago. The last thing left on the sand surface from his swallowed comrade was a right hand clutching a compass.
Antonov was cursing the sandstorm in Russian, but soon his voice was drowned by the sound of the wind and sand.
The sand underfoot suddenly ca to life, like water gradually inundating several people's ankles, knees...
Song Heping wanted to remind everyone not to let the sand bury them, to withdraw their hands and feet from the sand before it reached their chests, or it would be too late to escape.
The sandstorm didn't last very long.
After a full hour, it suddenly dissipated like the ebbing tide.
In the dry river bed, a few people were crouched quietly against the weathered rock walls like sealed sand people.
"Cough cough cough—"
Song Heping's violent coughing broke the silence.
Shaking off the half-kilogram of sand from his dust mask, he imdiately looked around.
"Antonov!"
"Sara!"
"Jiang Feng!"
The three were missing.
Only sand surrounded him.
Song Heping hurriedly began to dig through the sand beside him.
"Suka!"
A large furry hand erged from a pile of sand.
Antonov was the first to drill his way out of the sand.
"Ptui, ptui, ptui—"
He tried to spit out the sand in his mouth but it was dry; the yellow sand sprayed out like mist.
Song Heping found sothing in the sand and pulled hard, dragging Jiang Feng out.
"Jiang Feng!"
He quickly brushed the dust off Jiang Feng's face.
The dust on Jiang Feng's face fell off, his breath blowing onto Song Heping's hand.
He was still alive.
Song Heping's heart relaxed.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine..."
Jiang Feng snorted twice forcefully, spraying out the sand from inside.
"Almost suffocated, damn it..."
"Where's Sara?!"
Song Heping suddenly rembered the only woman in the group.
"Damn!"
He quickly turned and started digging in the sand.
Of all the people, Sara was the only one injured and the weakest.
Upon hearing this, Antonov also ca over to help.
The group worked together frantically to dig through the sand, finally finding the barely breathing Sara.
"Damn, she's not breathing."
Jiang Feng checked for breath.
He felt nothing.
Song Heping placed his hand under Sara's nose; indeed, she wasn't breathing.
He imdiately pressed his hand on Sara's carotid artery.
There was still a faint pulse.
"There's still hope!"
Saying this, he dragged Sara out and laid her flat on the ground, then began performing CPR.
"I'm giving her mouth-to-mouth!"
Antonov was eager.
Song Heping looked at Antonov, whose face was covered in yellow sand and unshaven, and scoffed: "Get out of here, you still sll like vodka!"
"Gasp—"
After so effort, Sara suddenly opened her eyes, gasping and starting to breathe on her own.
"Help her sit up."
The group helped Sara sit up.
Song Heping forcefully patted her back.
Antonov said: "We need to move quickly, those Mossad guys are probably still nearby."
"I think I heard an explosion when the sandstorm ca," Jiang Feng said, "Did they crash?"
"Go check it out."
Song Heping gave the last bit of saline solution to Sara and sent Jiang Feng to scout.
"Be careful."
"Got it."
Jiang Feng responded, walked to the opposite river bed, and climbed up the cliff.
Quickly, he reached the edge of the river bed and cautiously poked his head out to look in the direction where the helicopters had been pursuing them.
The wind and sand had stopped in the distance, and the sandstorm had flattened everything, making the desert appear smooth and dense.
The wreckage of two Black Hawk Helicopters, covered in yellow sand, lay about four hundred ters away.
"Serves them right!"
Jiang Feng grinned but the motion cracked his lips, causing pain.
Suddenly, sparks appeared beside the helicopter wreckage.
It was near dusk, and the sky was not yet completely dark, so the sparks weren't glaring.
But Jiang Feng sensed a threat, recoiling his head.
Bang bang bang—
Bang bang bang—
A volley of bullets hit the ground about three ters away from him.
"Damn!"
He slid down the cliff back to the river bed and imdiately reported to Song Heping: "Sergeant, the Mossad guys are still alive!"
Song Heping nodded, stood up, and pried out a warhead embedded in the rock wall.
"5.56, NATO standard; those guys aren't dead."
"Let's retreat!"
"Retreat where?!?"
Antonov angrily said: "We might as well fight them, there's desert everywhere, nowhere to hide. They have water, they can outlast us. Plus, we're carrying an injured person; we can't run!"
Song Heping said: "We have no choice. First, retreat to that building, if we can't escape, we'll have to find a place to fight them. In a building, we might have a chance in close combat. They're probably suffering too; their helicopter crashed, likely taking many lives with it, so their numbers are likely few."
"That's the only way!" Jiang Feng agreed with Song Heping: "Retreat to the building we saw earlier; if they co, we'll engage in close combat indoors."
He touched his belt.
"This thing could strangle soone too!"
Antonov pulled out his GRU knife, flipping it twice in his hand.
"No problem! Before I die, I want to slit a Hebrew's throat."
Song Heping quickly supported Sara, and together with Jiang Feng and Antonov, moved along the river bed towards the dilapidated building they had seen earlier, possibly a smuggler's hideout.
The dry river bed, weathered over unknown millennia, had beco brittle, but with one advantage: the crisscrossing gullies provided cover, ensuring a safer approach to the building compared to running over the open sandy ground.
"Look, what's that!?"
Walking in front, Jiang Feng suddenly stopped, eyes fixed ahead.
Following his gaze, Song Heping inhaled sharply.
A skeleton leaned against a weathered rock wall, head tilted, clothes in tatters hanging from it, and a rifle across its lower abdon!
Indeed, Song Heping saw clearly—it was a rifle!
"Jiang Feng, support Sara, I'll check it out."
Walking to the skeleton, Song Heping imdiately recognized its significance.
This skeleton didn't lie here just for a year or a few years; it had been here for at least several decades.
The tattered clothes, though unrecognizable in color, were undoubtedly once military uniform; lying across its legs was an old Lee-Enfield Rifle, a weapon used by the British Army during World War II.
It seed to be a leftover from a World War II battle in North Africa.
Inspecting the rifle, it was clearly no longer functional.
But Song Heping was very interested in the bayonet attached below the rifle's muzzle.
None in the group had a firearm, except Antonov's GRU knife and the distress signal gun he had from the aircraft.
Relying on these to fight ard Mossad forces was pure fantasy.
So, even an old military bayonet was extrely useful to Song Heping.
He hurriedly detached the bayonet.
The junction of the bayonet and rifle was rusted, taking significant effort to remove.
"No problem, it's a World War II British casualty; let's keep moving."
Song Heping took the bayonet and returned to his group, leading them towards the suspicious building.
But about twenty ters from the building, Jiang Feng suddenly stopped.
"Sergeant!"
His voice was coarse, due to the lack of moisture.
Song Heping saw Jiang Feng turn, lips trembling.
"I think I stepped on a landmine..."
"Landmine!?"
Song Heping's mind buzzed.
Antonov frowned: "Why would there be landmines here?!"
"Possible!"
Song Heping interrupted Antonov, scanning their surroundings: "We might be in big trouble."
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