"They want us dead!"
Utekin slamd his fist on the railing.
"Isn't it obvious?" Song Heping made a quick decision: "Tell the captain to dock at the abandoned pier on the west side of the port. There shouldn't be any formal inspection there."
"Already told him," Jiang Feng nodded, "but he's worried the water might not be deep enough."
"Then we'll swim to the shore," Song Heping said decisively. "Notify everyone to prepare combat gear, there's bound to be an ambush at the port. Don't underestimate those idiots' intelligence. Even if we dock at the official port, they'll find an excuse to label us terrorists."
"Alright, I'll go tell the captain."
Jiang Feng turned and headed to the cockpit.
"Rescuing the cook this ti is a big risk, Song, you..."
Utekin saw that Song Heping seed to have been prepared long ago, as if he understood sothing.
Even without him, Song Heping would go.
"Do you think I'm the kind of person who would abandon my brothers?"
Song Heping looked at the forr GRU major in front of him with a grin.
"Your GRU doesn't have a tradition of abandoning comrades, right?"
Utekin was stunned.
He couldn't answer this question.
After all, the ones hunting them down now were his own forr special forces unit.
"They want us dead!"
Utekin slamd his fist on the rusty railing, oblivious to the blood oozing from his knuckles.
In the distance, the flickering lights of Latakia port resembled the eyes of a lurking beast.
Song Heping squinted, the sea breeze laced with the sll of gunpowder stinging his nostrils.
This was no ordinary sea breeze—the air in Syria was always filled with the lingering dust of war.
"Isn't it obvious?" he drew out a tactical knife, carving a deep mark on the deck, "Chasing us from Cairo to the diterranean, Zhaoyi Valley is out to exterminate us."
Jiang Feng suddenly lowered his voice, "Henry managed to get so intel from MI6..."
He handed a tablet to Song Heping.
"Thermal imaging shows an ambush behind the crane at the dock." The green glow of the night vision goggles reflected on his tense face.
"At least six identified, in tactical formation, classic crossfire ambush circle."
"Can you trust the British?" Utekin imdiately objected.
Jiang Feng sneered, "When you can't even trust your own, how can you not trust the British?!"
"Regular troops wouldn't be so sneaky."
Song Heping jabbed the tip of his knife into the naplate of "Artemis".
"Tell the captain to circle around from behind the abandoned tanker on the west side. The water is deep enough there, and—"
He suddenly fell silent as the distant roar of rotors approached.
Three Mi-24 Hind helicopters swooped over the port like vultures, their searchlights turning the sea surface ghostly white.
Utekin yanked the dog tags from his neck and stuffed them into his boot—a GRU insignia that could betray his identity.
Once, he took pride in it.
Now, he felt ashad.
"Swim to the shore."
Song Heping gestured toward the cabin, "Jiang Feng takes Team A to infiltrate from the three o'clock direction, I'll go with Utekin from nine o'clock. Rember—"
He scanned the bloodshot eyes of each team mber, "This is not a drill; behind every stone in Cilia could be a gun aiming to kill you."
Now, he had only Jiang Feng and three other special forces team mbers with him.
The "Artemis" didn't dock at Latakia port but instead sailed to a beach roughly forty kiloters from the port, anchoring offshore.
Now, they were still at least five kiloters from the coastline.
For this kind of infiltration, Song Heping was well-versed.
The countless infiltration drills he had undertaken were finally put to use.
"We'll dive across now."
Song Heping signaled with a tactical hand gesture, Jiang Feng and the other special forces team mbers disappeared into the water like ghosts.
"Can you dive?"
After Jiang Feng and the others vanished, Song Heping turned to Utekin standing beside him and teased, "Does the GRU have diving training?"
"I'm fine!"
Utekin felt insulted.
In front of this Chinese man, he absolutely couldn't show a trace of weakness—whether militarily or otherwise.
He suddenly understood why the cook was willing to abandon his company in Baghdad and return to Moscow years ago.
Being with soone like Song was too pressuring; you could only be a follower.
Leaving was the best choice.
Underwater visibility was less than two ters.
Song Heping's tactical flashlight illuminated the wreckage of a subrged truck, a skeleton still strapped to the driver's seat gently swayed with the current.
"Splash—"
Song Heping peeked out from behind the shattered concrete embanknt, salty sea water dripped down from his bulletproof vest.
Thirty ters away, two sentries in civilian clothes were smoking, but the way they held their guns exposed their identity—Russian-style shoulder-mounted shooting thod, typical GRU style.
It seed Latakia port was also controlled by the Russian Army.
The problem was, the one controlling the Russian Army now was Zhaoyi Valley.
He couldn't take this risk.
He turned back and made a couple of tactical hand signals to Utekin, asking if he understood.
Utekin's response was clear—take them out!
"Bang!"
As if to express his determination to Song Heping, Utekin's silenced pistol fired first with a dull thud.
The first sentry fell like a marionette with its strings cut.
Seeing this, Song Heping didn't hesitate, imdiately pulling the trigger.
The bullet hit the second sentry's throat, warm blood sprayed on the battered "Danger! Unexploded Ordnance" warning sign.
"Gunfire in the northeast."
Jiang Feng's voice crackled in the bone conduction earpiece.
"Henry's intel indicates the governnt army and the Freedom Army are fighting over the flour mill."
"We'll talk once we're ashore."
At this point, Song Heping couldn't make any more judgnts.
Cilia was completely in chaos.
According to previous intel, it was a total ss internally.
The composition within the opposition was very complex.
Extremist organizations, including 1515, Kurd Ard, and the like.
All old acquaintances of Song Heping.
He knew very well what kind of behavior these guys exhibited.
Looks like there'll be another clash on this land.
Half an hour later.
Song Heping crawled under the chassis of a T-72 tank overturned by a rocket, watching the flickers of red figures in the night vision goggles.
On the street two hundred ters away, a dozen civilians huddled fearfully in a destroyed fountain, while stray bullets from both sides occasionally kicked up debris at the pool's edge.
Latakia port was a very important strategic location.
Now it was in such chaos.
It was apparent the Cilia governnt's situation was dire.
These guys couldn't even control their own vital port.
"Wasn't the coastal area supposedly all under Assad's control?!"
Song Heping couldn't help but ask Utekin.
Utekin looked embarrassed, "Before I left, it was still in the hands of the governnt army..."
"Damn it!"
Song Heping felt a growing fire in his chest.
Intel!
Intel!
Intel!
Reliable intelligence is extrely important for a special operations team.
Otherwise, it's total annihilation.
Utekin didn't even know the situation here?
"You idiot?! You've only been gone a few days?!"
Song Heping couldn't hold back any longer.
To him, it was inconceivable for a special forces officer to make such a mistake.
"Didn't even clear the landing zone's situation?! Damn you!"
Song Heping couldn't hold back anymore and cursed.
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