"Tell , where are the Dahmars?"
In the grove, Song Heping stepped on the face of a rebel officer with his shoe sole.
The guy was sniffling and crying, pleading continuously, "Please, don't kill ."
"You're not worth killing. It's the Dahmars I want to kill. Just tell , and I won't kill you."
Song Heping spoke coldly, applying more pressure with his foot.
The person beneath his shoe began to wail again.
"He ran west, about five hundred ters. That's the parking spot."
Suddenly, the sound of helicopter blades thundered across the sky.
Song Heping looked up and saw the MI-17 helicopter.
Hmm...
The three million US Dollars spent on the Ferrari was pretty worth it. At least the aircraft was painted white, and it seed to bear UN markings upon closer inspection.
Money can make the devil grind the mill.
This old saying popped into Song Heping's mind once again.
He lifted his foot and released the rebel officer lying on the ground.
The opponent took a deep breath, as if seeing hope.
Song Heping turned and left, throwing a glance at Jiang Feng as he departed.
Jiang Feng understood and fired a shot at the man's head.
Bang—
The officer, just about to climb up from the ground, fell and lay down forever.
"You said you wouldn't kill him!"
Antonov, unfamiliar with Song Heping's style, was shocked to see him going back on his word.
"I did say I wouldn't kill him."
After speaking, he glanced at Jiang Feng and then turned to Antonov: "I said the Dahmar troops would perish tonight, so perish they will; none shall remain."
Then he said to Ferrari, "Get them to land, we'll board the helicopter and hunt down the Dahmars."
"Okay."
Ferrari imdiately started contacting the Egyptian Army informant in the helicopter, instructing them to land at once.
Once Song Heping had left, Jiang Feng went to Antonov and patted him on the shoulder: "Rember, promises must be kept. If we say they'll perish, they will perish."
Ten minutes later, up in the sky.
The sky had begun to lighten up gradually.
In the east, the horizon started to glow with dawn, with the twilight visible at the junction of the distant clouds and the ground.
It's nearly daylight.
The MI-17 helicopter cabin was filled with the pungent sll of aviation fuel.
Song Heping unhooked the fixed shooting seat from the cabin wall, with brass bullet chains coiling snake-like on the tal floor.
Through the open cabin door, he could see plus of dust rising from the western road—four ard pickups were escorting Dahmar's bullet-proof Land Rover in a frantic escape.
"Altitude 600, speed 220."
The pilot's voice mixed with the roar of the engine was heard.
"Southeast wind, turbulence level three."
Song Heping pressed his cheek against the PKM's stock, his pupils dancing with the sighting reticle.
Within the reticle's field of view were scattered vehicles and Dahmar's troops.
So already noticed the helicopter and stopped their vehicles, beginning to flee in disarray.
This was actually a good idea; the target of the vehicle was too large, dispersing to run might save them.
These people were not dumb.
Just foolish.
They provoked soone they shouldn't have.
Song Heping suddenly yanked the bolt violently, chambering a round, then aid at the vehicles below and pulled the trigger.
The copper-colored body of the 7.62×54mmR bullet glead with a deadly golden light in the morning sun.
"Hunter, you take care of nailing their vehicles to the road for ."
"No problem!"
The Eastern European man in the rear cabin unveiled the fabric covering the weapon slot, exposing the cold gleam of the AGS-17 grenade launcher.
"Begin the dive!"
He commanded in English to the pilot inside the cockpit.
"OK! No problem!"
It's delightful when soone gets paid to do the job.
The pilot raised his hand to make an OK gesture, then pushed the control stick.
The helicopter suddenly dove at a 60-degree angle, causing everyone's internal organs to surge with the feeling of weightlessness.
Song Heping's feet clutched the floor rings tightly, and the goggles fluttered noisily in the air stream.
When a vehicle with an antenna on the roof ca into view through the sight, he aid at that pickup truck and fiercely pulled the trigger.
"Hiss—"
A three-ter-long muzzle flash roared like the breath of hell, and shell casings rained down on the deck. The first wave of bullets shredded the rearmost pickup into a honeycomb, and in the fireball from the exploding fuel tank, two burning figures scread as they rolled off the roadbed.
"Left turn! Turn!"
After the aircraft swooped past, Song Heping lost his shooting angle and imdiately began issuing commands to the cockpit.
"OK, no problem! Whatever you say!"
The thought of the substantial reward awaiting him after this mission filled the pilot with adrenaline, operating the stick with fervor.
The aircraft suddenly banked sharply, the MI-17 helicopter executing a wide turn in the air, quickly pivoting its nose toward the routed troops.
The second wave of bullets slashed diagonally into the convoy.
7.62 caliber armor-piercing bullets punctured the pickup's steel plates, severing the rear-seat machine gunner at the waist, their intestines hanging on the car door handle, flapping wildly in the wind.
Damar cowered in the back seat of the bullet-proof vehicle, watching death's vulture closing in through the rearview mirror.
Vehicles ignited into fireballs under grenade attacks.
Suddenly, a scream ca through the car radio, "Colonel! They're using incendiary..."
Communication abruptly ceased.
The third pickup was hit by an AGS-17's incendiary grenade; magnesium aluminum thermite instantly lted the chassis into molten iron, and four flaming n jumped and rolled out of the vehicle, only to be shot into scattered flesh by Song Heping's PKM.
"Quick! Into the gorge!"
Damar madly pounded the driver's seat.
The SUV swerved off the roadbed, twenty-milliter thick bullet-proof glass exploded into web-like cracks—dense barrage of shots from the PKM inscribing a countdown to death on the struggling beast.
Song Heping tore off his tactical gloves, smoking from the heat of the gun barrel, signaling a cutting gesture to the pilot. The MI-17 suddenly perford a cobra maneuver, hovering directly above the gorge.
"Full barrage—fire!"
Both sides of the cabin doors spewed tongues of fire simultaneously.
The steel core bullets from the left PKM pierced the Land Rover's hood, while the right-side Hunter operated the AGS-17, pouring explosive grenades beneath the vehicle.
The bullet-proof car bounced half a ter like a shell-struck tortoise, slamming heavily down as a burning iron coffin.
Song Heping single-handedly replaced a 200-round ammo box, watching as people crawled out from the passenger side, one of them being Damar, who had allied with the "Satan" rcenary Group to hunt him down.
A cold smile erged on his lips, "Trying to kill ? Too bad you're inept."
With that, he gently pressed the trigger.
"Da da da!"
A burst of three shots shattered Damar's left knee.
"Da da da!"
Another burst of three shots shattered his right scapula.
As this butcher squird like a maggot on the sandy ground, the helicopter slowly landed ters away.
Song Heping got off the aircraft, quickly approaching Damar.
"Do you know who I am?"
"I don't know... no, I know..."
Damar shook his head, then nodded.
Though they had never t, they each knew of the other.
"You are Mr. Song... Sir, can you spare ?"
"Spare you?"
Song Heping laughed.
"Who have you spared?"
He aid the sights at the charred skull and said coldly, "Those who kill will be killed."
Bam—
The bullet pierced through Damar's head, instantly ending his suffering.
Song Heping stepped forward, his combat boots crunching over the charred skull.
He bent down, ripped off Damar's scorched insignia, then held it up.
"Take photos, record," he casually tossed the remains to Jiang Feng, "Post it online and tell all those gun-toting bastards—"
The gorge suddenly whisked up a wind of blood, dispersing the smoky skies, with the MI-17, painted with UN markings, hovering in the distance. The morning light shone, tinting the earth blood-red.
Song Heping's voice, mixed with the rotor's thunder, echoed across the wilderness:
"Anyone who dares ss with will face total annihilation!"
An hour later, the video and photos appeared on the underground Dark Web, within the rcenary sections.
Everyone was frantically viewing.
Everyone was shocked.
No one had ever done this before.
Broadcast themselves directly online.
Of course, no one had dared to do it.
Those who dared were typically not ordinary people.
From today, the rcenary market will forever circulate the legend of "Madness."
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