"Damn it!"
Thom finally realized it was just a rock he had stepped on.
He twisted his ankle, and so sand got into his shoe.
Irritated, he spat onto the ground.
Suddenly, he felt a sensation of fullness in his bladder.
He had drank too much water in the car tonight.
He actually felt the need to urinate...
He looked around.
No one was there.
It was a good ti to relieve himself.
Without another word, he hung onto his gun, unzipped, and took out his "tool" to start sprinkling around.
Zzzzz—
Just as he was happily relieving himself, he suddenly heard the team leader below the dune shouting, "Thom you bastard, what are you doing up there? Hurry up, you'll pay if you make us late!"
"Coming!"
Thom on the dune quickly tucked away his "tool," stuffed it in haphazardly, and turned to run down the dune.
"What's the situation up there?"
The team leader asked.
"No situation, not a single shadow in sight,"
Thom lied without changing his expression.
"Let's go, head back."
The team leader waved his hand, and the n got back into the vehicle again, circling around slowly to continue reconnaissance.
Just after their vehicle had left, not two ters below where Thom had been urinating, the calm sand suddenly moved, then moved again, creating a small mound of sand.
The mound gradually moved forward a short distance and stopped at the edge of the reverse slope.
Hunter erged from the sand; his bunny hat was full of sand, and his homade ghillie suit blended in with the dunes, so much so that even up close, it was hard to make out in the night.
He slowly extended his sniper rifle halfway out again.
Setting up the rifle here was a delicate task.
The sand was too soft and would give way during shooting, affecting accuracy.
So Hunter used his tactical pack to stabilize the bipod of his M24 sniper rifle.
He lifted the covers off the scope again and, using the night vision, could clearly see the dilapidated stone huts in the distance.
Lars was pacing back and forth on the spot, kicking little stones on the ground with his foot.
Hunter trained his crosshairs on him, simulated a few attacks, then shifted the crosshairs away.
Then he set up a small observation telescope beside himself.
Several clouds of dust were rising up in the northern Gobi, carried high into the air.
Hunter saw these sudden appearances in the horizon through the observation telescope; after zooming in, he could clearly see they were a few off-road vehicles and pick-up trucks.
Judging by the number, there were more newcors.
It was probably the Kurd Ard and Freedom Alliance.
Hunter's gaze tracked the vehicles relentlessly until they ca to a stop beside the stone huts.
The mont the convoy stopped, the militants jumped off the pickups, spread out in a skirmish line, and took control of different positions around the area.
The door of a central off-road vehicle opened, and two n dressed in tactical gear got out; from a distance, it was impossible to make out their faces.
Hunter connected to the radio channel once again.
"Hunter calling Black Hawk."
"Go ahead."
Song Heping had not left the radio all night.
To be precise, none of the core team had left the radio.
Everyone was gathered together, anxiously waiting for Hunter's news.
All of the local troop mbers had been dispersed to various locations in the oilfield.
There were no outsiders here now.
"Lars's contact has arrived, but I can't see their faces."
"If you can't see, then you can't see; I won't interfere with when you shoot or how you shoot,"
Song Heping said, "From now until the shot is fired, you don't need to report to again, unless sothing unexpected happens."
"Understood, I got it."
Hunter continued to exhale the air from his chest slowly, then focused all his attention back into the scope of the M24 sniper rifle.
The crosshair settled on one of the leading n.
Although their faces were not clear, one could roughly discern their status amongst those who arrived from their movents and behavior.
Over there, Lars had already stepped forward and greeted them.
The other party appeared to be neither cold nor warm.
Not exactly repulsive, but definitely not likable either.
"Mr. Lars, I am Leiduo, and this is Jalari from the Freedom Alliance, and he also happens to be their leader," he said after introducing himself, standing still with his hands hanging by his sides, seemingly waiting for Lars to initiate the conversation.
The subtlety of negotiation lay right here.
Tonight, it was Blackwater International's BOSS behind Lars who had actively requested the eting.
Therefore, Blackwater International had to take the initiative to state their purpose and offer their terms.
Blackwater International had already discussed the broad strokes through specially designated communication channels with their higher-ups.
His purpose tonight was rely to assess whether the terms were worthwhile and to confirm with Lars the specific number of arms, the price, the delivery date, and other key information.
"It seems Mr. Leiduo doesn't trust us very much…"
Lars said this, stepping forward and looking around with his eyes everywhere.
The number of people on the opposite side was one and a half tis that of his own.
These Kurd Ard n still had their guard up against Blackwater International.
"This area is very unsafe, so we have to be a bit cautious," Leiduo replied blandly, making a circle in the air in front of him with his hand. But before he could lower his hand, they suddenly heard a piercing whistling sound in the air—
Pop—
Leiduo's head exploded like a magic trick.
Lars, who had just walked up to him, was caught off guard and splattered with a face of bright red ketchup, along with a few fragnts of white bones sticking to his nose, making him look both eerie and terrifying.
"Take them out!"
Jalari instantly turned into a Mad Dog beside them, reaching into his waist to draw his pistol and intending to kill Lars.
He felt he had been tricked!
It must have been Lars' doing.
Jalari swore to take Lars down!
After all, Lars was a forr British Army officer, so he drew his gun faster than Jalari, a ragtag bandit.
Bang bang—
He fired first.
Jalari, hit in the chest, imdiately fell to the ground.
Lars was seething inside.
He didn't want it to be this way.
But he had no choice.
Otherwise, he would be the one dead.
There was no turning back now.
Right and wrong were completely unclear at this point.
He could only raise his hand and give Jalari's forehead one more shot, sending him off.
"FUCK! FUCK!"
He kept shouting curses as his n rushed up to shield him, pushing him to retreat backwards.
"Boss, we need to pull out..."
Before he could finish his sentence—
The man who urged him to hurry was struck in the neck by a bullet from nowhere.
A fountain of red blood spurted out, his body tilted, and he fell to the ground instantly.
"Robbin!"
Lars grabbed his subordinate's tactical vest strap with one hand, dragging him towards the car while his other hand holding the Glock Pistol continuously fired at an ard man in front who was still dumbfounded, taking him down.
As everyone next to the small stone house was thrown into chaos, a Hunter slowly retreated like a snake to the back slope of a distant dune; then, he stood up, shouldering his tactical pack, clutching his gun, and started to run.
After running a full kiloter, he found his car behind another dune.
After jumping into the car, he turned the engine on, and when he heard the roaring sound, his heart finally settled.
"Damn, my side is done, they're fighting each other," he said.
"Hurry back," ca the response.
"No problem," he replied while fiercely pressing the gas pedal.
The off-road vehicle zipped away cheerfully, disappearing into the vast night.
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