On the sand dune eight hundred ters away, the Hunter slowly ejected the cartridge.
The 7.62mm sniper cartridge emitted wisps of smoke as it lay on the sand, with a faint "ding" as it rolled, quickly drowned out by the desert wind.
He pressed his earpiece, his voice as calm as if reporting a shooting range drill: "Target eliminated."
"Very good."
Song Heping's voice ca through the channel, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, and then he issued the order: "Full squad assault."
Twenty elite mbers of the "Musician" Defense Company leaped out from under the camouflage netting, moving swiftly and silently.
Their desert camouflage uniforms blended almost perfectly with the sand, only the tal parts of their firearms occasionally flashed cold under the sunlight.
These were personally trained by Song Heping, each one a veteran of bloody battles, their tactical acun far surpassing the rabble under African continent's warlord forces.
The well-equipped special task force sliced into the chaotic militant group like a sharp knife. The short bursts of the M4A1 coordinated perfectly with the long bursts of the PKM machine guns, bullets precisely harvesting the remaining enemies.
Over thirty surviving militants didn't even figure out who the attackers were before they dropped to the ground.
So tried to raise their guns in retaliation, but as soon as their barrels lifted, a 5.56mm bullet blew off their skulls.
In just twenty minutes, the battlefield was utterly silent.
"This fool died not knowing who killed him."
Song Heping treaded over the scattered cartridges to Markuer's corpse, crouched down, retrieved a silver flask from the deceased's pocket, and unscrewed it to take a sniff.
"Scotch Whisky, at least 25 years old."
He then walked over to Hakeem, removed the gold Rolex from his wrist, examined it, and handed it to the nearby special task force commander Becker: "Keep it as a souvenir; it's worth more than these bastards' blood."
Becker accepted the flask and the gold Rolex, grinning: "Boss, this thing could fetch a good gun on the black market."
"Consider it your bonus."
Song Heping stood up, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield.
The Hunter walked over, slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder: "How's the situation over at Hakeem and Markuer's stronghold?"
"By rights, Jiang Feng and White Bear should have controlled it by now."
Song Heping glanced at his watch.
"I reckon it's ti to give our new friends their onboarding training."
Even as Hakeem and Markuer were fighting for their lives in the valley, two other teams sent by Song Heping had already launched their operations simultaneously.
First route: White Bear led the team to raid Hakeem's gold mine.
Hakeem's gold mine, situated on the edge of Northern Darfur, had a treacherous terrain, but with a garrison of fewer than a hundred n.
Most of the elites had been taken by Hakeem to trade arms, and those left behind were nothing but the old, weak, sick, and a few shooters tasked with guarding.
White Bear's tactic was simple—swift assault, multiple points of encirclent.
Ten rcenaries used the cover of night to sneak into the mine area, using silenced pistols and knives to take care of the periter sentries.
By the ti the guards at the mine realized sothing was wrong, White Bear had already taken the high ground and set up PKM machine guns.
"Drop your weapons, surrender and you won't be killed!"
White Bear shouted in Arabic.
A few die-hard elents attempted to resist but were imdiately taken down by the sniper one by one.
The remaining guards looked at each other, and ultimately tossed aside their weapons.
The second route was led by Jiang Feng, raiding Markuer's camp.
Markuer's camp was even more fortified than Hakeem's, but Jiang Feng's thods were more ruthless.
He directly set up mortars on the periter of the camp, bombarding it with three rounds, throwing the camp into chaos, and then charged in with his n.
The garrisoned militants were caught off guard and couldn't mount an effective resistance.
Jiang Feng didn't even give them the chance to surrender—he had snipers specifically targeting those who tried to organize a counter-attack, taking them down one by one, crushing the opponent's morale.
That afternoon, as the sunset painted the Darfur sky red, Song Heping stood at the center of the "Justice and Peace" organization's camp.
In front of him were more than two hundred dejected militants, and around them, ard "Musician" company employees with machine guns set up.
"The choice is simple." Song Heping's voice echoed throughout the camp via loudspeaker, "Put down your weapons, five hundred US dollars a month as a basic salary, those who perform well can guard the mine, a thousand a month. Of course, those unwilling to stay can go ho, with fifty dollars travel expense each."
He intentionally paused, observing the stirring in the crowd—this pay was three tis more than what they earned as bandits.
"The benefits seem pretty good."
"Much better than the old boss..."
"Is this the China person who shot down the Arican drone?"
"Yes, it's him, Song, nicknad 'Reckless.'"
"Or..."
Song Heping suddenly raised his hand, and at the four corners of the camp, sniper rifles simultaneously fired, five bullets precisely hitting the newly erected target 30 ters behind him, each shot striking the head area.
No further threats were needed.
"I am willing to surrender! I am willing to follow you!"
The first to stand up and raise his hand was a one-eyed veteran.
Then the second, the third...
Half an hour later, more than two hundred people all expressed their intention to surrender.
"You will be in charge of training this group, to the standards of PLA recruits."
Song Heping nodded at Jiang Feng.
"These standards are a bit high, this is Africa."
Jiang Feng looked troubled.
"Do your best." Song Heping understood Jiang Feng's difficulties: "Do your best, if it really doesn't work out, send them off."
"Alright... I feel this is harder than winning a victory..."
Jiang Feng shook his head, imdiately walked to the front of the captives, raised his hand: "Line up, co over here to register on the roster, move quickly, don't dawdle or be lazy, our company doesn't keep idlers, after the training if you don't make it you still have to take the travel expenses and get out!"
The satellite phone vibrated.
Song Heping glanced at the number, then walked to a secluded spot to answer.
"Congratulations!" The voice on the other end spoke with an Oxford accent: "Mr. Song, I congratulate you on behalf of Ms. M. But there's news you might be interested in—CIA has ford a special unit, the group leader is Jasper."
It was Weber's voice.
"Thank Ms. M for ." Song Heping looked towards the north, where the Sahara began, "Tell London, there will soon be a new story in the Sahel Region, as you wish, Aricans will run into trouble here, of course, as long as I'm not dead."
"Don't worry, I'll maintain direct contact with you in the future, only you and I will know of each other's existence and relationship."
Weber said considerately: "We won't let you die, if you need help, contact anyti."
Hanging up the phone, Song Heping returned to the open space, watching Jiang Feng registering the captives, then said to Ferrari: "The Aricans have ford a special action unit, specifically targeting ."
"Not targeting all of us?" Ferrari asked.
Song Heping smiled bitterly: "They hate the most."
CIA Headquarters, Langley City
"North Darfur changed overnight!"
Jasper slamd the intelligence on the table.
"That lunatic Song Heping actually took down both Hakeem and Markuer simultaneously!"
He anticipated the future situation.
North Darfur is an important region in the Sahel Zone.
Originally, it was a wedge the Aricans prepared to expand their influence into Africa.
After all, where there's war, there's opportunity for Aricans.
Now, Song Heping suddenly appeared there and quickly rose, taking down two major warlords of Northern Darfur in less than a month. From the map, the fronts of Atlon Oasis and its left-right wings are the original territories of the "Liberation Front" and the "Justice and Peace" Ard Organization, as well as gold mines.
Taking these two places forms an inverted triangle region, in military science, it is a front-to-triangle defense formation, very stable, with Atlon Oasis behind it backed by the highland, ready to retreat, escape or defend anyti.
If a month ago when Song Heping first entered Northern Darfur he was like rootless water, now he is a certified dominant power.
Simon beside him hinted: "Seems like Song Heping's rise is faster than you expected."
Saying this, he looked at Jasper with a "What do you plan to do?" expression.
"I let you choose a suitable target for action, have you decided? Whom to start with?"
Jasper looked at his assistant, still wary of Simon.
The special action unit has started working, the first task is to establish a target, following the plan determined at the eting, it must be a close relative of one of the core mbers of the "Musician" company.
"Her."
Simon placed a piece of material in front of Jasper, tapping on it with his finger.
Jasper looked at the material, reached out to open the first page.
A photo of a cute and pretty girl around 5 years old appeared before him.
"Who's this?"
"Ferrari's daughter."
Simon said with certainty: "No target is more suitable than this one."
MI6 Headquarters, London.
Ms. M looked at the report in her hand, the corners of her mouth slightly raised: "This Song Heping is more interesting than we imagined."
Weber stood beside her: "Do we win him over?"
"Of course." Ms. M sipped her tea: "Aricans want to kill him, so he should be our friend. All along, out of face for so-called allies, we've always been unsatisfied with the Aricans taking what they want but dare not openly oppose. But honestly Weber, I've beco quite tired of those ignorant nouveau riche hillbillies waving the banner of anti-terrorism while actually squeezing our interests in Africa; I think it's ti we give them so trouble, let them realize their difficulties on the African continent."
After a mont of contemplation, she returned to her desk, opened a drawer, and took out a docunt.
"Give this information to Song Heping, rember to sanitize it, leave no evidence, inform him that if he gets this done for us, MI6 will owe him a big favor that will be repaid. In Africa, he can access any information our intelligence network obtains, ensuring his safety."
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