Ibrahim Al-Haj stood in the back of the ard pickup truck, holding an AK-47 assault rifle equipped with an EO 552 sight in his right hand, and a radio in his left hand, his eyes under the black mask fixed on the silhouette of Isriye erging on the horizon.
"Falcon! Falcon! This is 'Sandstorm', do you hear ?"
The radio was filled with static, with no response.
"Damn it!" Ibrahim kicked the truck's tal body hard, the sound of the clash particularly piercing in the hot air.
His second-in-command, a big-bearded man with a face full of scars, ca over and said in a low voice, "Master Ibrahim, Falcon Squad has been out of contact for over an hour, they might..."
"Shut up!"
Ibrahim turned his head abruptly, a flash of furious fire in his bloodshot eyes.
"They're fine! The governnt forces in Isriye ran away long ago; those spineless dogs wouldn't dare resist!"
At this ti, corpses appeared on both sides of the dirt road.
Frustrated with nowhere to vent his anger, Ibrahim raised his hand and fired a burst into the corpses, tearing them apart.
The convoy continued advancing.
The "Storm" squad, consisting of fifteen ard pickup trucks and two modified trucks, kicked up rolling yellow dust in the desert.
Ninety-plus fighters, fully ard and high in morale.
They had just defeated a remnant of the governnt forces near Dora Town, morale was high, so they rushed toward the strategic town of Isriye.
Ibrahim was rapidly calculating in his mind.
Isriye is the gateway to Latakia Port and Damascus, taking this place would open up the entirety of Northern Syria to the 1515 group.
More importantly, it's a crucial channel for the governnt forces to supply Deir Ezzor. Once cut off, the defenders of Deir Ezzor would be left completely isolated.
The civil war had been going on for more than half a year.
With the covert support of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, the Freedom Army and the previously hidden Kurd Ard finally broke through the defense lines of the Silia Governnt Army, advancing southward from the northwest and northeast, charging straight toward Damascus.
The 1515 group, which had been entrenched in the eastern border areas, certainly wouldn't let such an opportunity slip by.
Taking Damascus ant capturing the capital, of significant symbolic importance.
Currently, the opposition ard forces in Silia included three strongest groups, and whoever takes Damascus will have more bargaining chips and voice when dividing the Silia pie in the future.
Therefore, the 1515 group halted their previous expansion plans in the western Illiguo, committing a large number of troops to Silia, intending to seize extensive territory and prepare to establish their own extremist force.
But unexpectedly, as they advanced to Deir Ezzor, they hit a tough nut. The defense of Deir Ezzor was under the command of the old General Isam, and under his leadership, the 1515 group suffered heavy losses and was unable to make headway.
Buckdadi finally had to order his troops to temporarily besiege Deir Ezzor, then send part of the forces to bypass it and push towards the central region, with the "Storm" squad being the vanguard responsible for attacking Isriye.
Therefore, this strategic town must be taken.
Controlling this place allows the 1515 group not only to cut off the route from Damascus to Deir Ezzor but also to gain the upper hand in attacking Damascus and other coastal cities.
As the vanguard, Ibrahim was determined to capture Isriye.
"Speed up the advance!"
He shouted into the radio: "Everyone, get into combat status! If Falcon Squad really had an incident, it ans there are still resisting forces in the city! Kill them all, whoever they are!"
The engine roared, and the speed increased again.
About twenty minutes later.
At the eastern entrance of Isriye.
A dead silence.
Ibrahim raised his hand to signal the convoy to stop, took out his binoculars, and began observing the entrance of the town.
In his sight, the streets were deserted, with no one around, and only a few civilian corpses lay scattered by the roadside, apparently cleared out by the Falcon Squad he had sent out.
"Sothing's not right..."
He murmured softly.
"Sir, should we send soone in for reconnaissance?" the second-in-command asked.
Ibrahim sneered, "Of course."
He picked up the radio and switched channels: "'Martyr,' prepare to move!"
Five minutes later, an old, bullet-ridden pickup, loaded with explosives, was pushed to the front of the convoy.
Two fanatical young fighters got into the car, their eyes filled not with fear, but with feverish excitent.
"Allahu Akbar!"
They shouted in unison, then stepped on the gas, and the old pickup roared toward the town's entrance.
Ibrahim coldly watched the scene unfold, with a mocking smile on his lips.
A suicide car bomb attack was one of the 1515 group's classic tactics.
No matter what ambush lay in the city, it would be torn apart by this moving bomb.
There must be an ambush at the entrance.
Send the suicide bomb car in and see if they open fire—
If they don't, they'll be blasted.
If they do, it reveals their firing position.
However, as the car barely advanced twenty ters into the town entrance—
Boom——!!!
With a deafening explosion, a fireball shot from the bottom of the pickup, soaring into the air.
The car was torn to pieces, and flas shot into the sky!
But Ibrahim keenly noticed that the explosion's power far exceeded the car's own explosive load.
"Landmine!" the second-in-command exclaid.
Ibrahim's expression turned grim.
"Sure enough, there's an ambush..." he gritted his teeth, "Those governnt dogs couldn't set up such traps, it must be rcenaries!"
He imdiately picked up the radio: "Attention all personnel! There's a minefield at the town entrance! 'Martyr' team two, send another car, blow open the minefield for !"
The second suicide car charged forth, and in a fierce explosion, a passage was forcibly blasted through the minefield.
The third pickup launched its assault.
All eyes of the 1515 fighters were glued to that pickup…
Fifty ters…
Thirty ters…
Ten ters…
It went through.
No explosions…
Tat-tat-tat—
A flash of fire spewed from a building near the entrance.
A burst of bullets pierced through the pickup's windshield, hitting the driver.
The pickup lost control, crashing into a roadside ditch, exploding violently a few seconds later.
Boom—
"Now!"
Ibrahim grinned wickedly, waving his hand.
"The mines are cleared! Begin the assault! Slaughter them! Honor our warriors with the blood of these infidels!"
"Kill them!"
The ard pickup squad launched their charge.
The fanatical 1515 ard mbers were as excited as if they were on drugs.
They loved this feeling.
Death held no fear for them.
After all, they firmly believed that they would go to Heaven upon death, where nurous virgins would serve them...
What they enjoyed even more was that every ti they captured a city, they could execute those who didn't submit to them, tying them up like livestock, dragging them to the outskirts, and slitting their throats one by one...
Only at those tis, when their nerves numbed by killing beca excited again, did the rush of dopamine make them feel as if they were high on drugs.
Within Isriye City.
Is squatted at the window of a three-story building, his SVD sniper rifle steadily rested on the windowsill.
His palms were sweating.
Deep down, he didn't want to face the lunatics of 1515 ard forces.
Among the Freedom Army, the Kurd, and 1515, in terms of cruelty, the other two couldn't hold a candle to the 1515.
To the 1515 ard forces, anyone who didn't submit to their organization deserved death, treated with the most brutal execution thods.
"They're coming."
He took a deep breath and spoke softly into the radio.
"Don't panic, Lieutenant." Song Heping's calm response ca through the earpiece: "Proceed as planned, hold them back."
Is took a deep breath, the crosshairs of the scope locking onto a 1515 fighter jumping off a pickup.
Bam!
The bullet precisely hit the target's chest, and the man fell to the ground.
"Open fire!"
Is shouted.
Instantly, the windows on both sides of the street spewed fire!
The bullets from machine guns, rifles, and sniper rifles poured down like rain, shredding the dozen or so 1515 fighters at the forefront, who fell with screams.
"It's an ambush! Find cover!"
A squad leader roared, but before he finished, a bullet blew off his skull.
Ibrahim stood at a distance, holding binoculars, his face pale like a zombie.
"Snipers! Machine gunners! Suppress their firing points!"
He put down the binoculars and roared orders.
All the heavy machine guns on the 1515 ard pickups unleashed full firepower, wildly shooting at the buildings near the town entrance.
Large-caliber bullets hit the building's exterior, scattering debris.
But Is's team held a decisive terrain advantage, and crossfire made any attempting enemies easy targets.
In just five minutes, more than twenty corpses lay on the street.
"Damn it!"
Ibrahim slamd a fist onto the car door.
"These bastards are definitely not the governnt army!"
To him, the governnt army lacked such tenacious resistance.
Earlier at Dora Town, the garrison collapsed at a touch, without even putting up a decent fight, with over a thousand being chased like dogs by his less than a hundred-strong team.
His deputy, pale, asked, "Sir, our losses are too heavy, should we pull back first..."
"Retreat?!"
Ibrahim grabbed his collar fiercely, his eyes flashing with a vicious light.
"Isriye must be taken! At all costs! Keep attacking! Use RPGs to destroy their firing points!"
Several RPG shooters imdiately moved forward, targeting the building windows to fire.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
The second-floor windows of a building were shattered to bits.
This attack seed to have so effect.
Right after the explosion, as 1515 mbers charged again, the earlier firing points seed silenced.
Soon, they broke through the town entrance.
"Hahaha! I told you they were cowards, just be ruthless enough, and they'll surely be scared to death!"
Ibrahim, very pleased, picked up the walkie-talkie and loudly ordered: "Everyone, advance! The entrance is broken, enter the city, kill!"
As he fell into madness from breaching the city, about a kiloter away from the battlefield, behind the sand dunes.
Song Heping put down the binoculars, a slight smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.
"Ibrahim took the bait."
Utekin lay on top of the BMP-97 infantry fighting vehicle, chewing a dry compressed biscuit, mumbling: "Is this guy crazy? Charging on despite so many deaths?"
"Because Isriye is too important." Jiang Feng said coldly: "He can't afford to lose it."
Song Heping nodded, his gaze fixed on the pickup surrounded by a dozen ard n in the distance—where Ibrahim stood, waving the walkie-talkie, hysterically directing the fight.
"The ti has co."
Song Heping reached for the SVD, walked up the sand slope, lay down at the top, and set up the gun...
Heading out of the city early, hiding here, lurking in the scorching sand for this very mont.
The fish had taken the bait.
Now, with the forces of the "Storm" squad pressed into the city, only a small handful were left beside Ibrahim.
For Song Heping, this was just the scenario he needed.
The arrow in the PSO-1 sight enveloped Ibrahim, still shouting and laughing with the walkie-talkie.
Song Heping didn't rush to fire but lifted his eyes to look around, half-closing his eyes.
The wind brushed across his face.
"Distance 900...left crosswind...wind speed three ters per second...temperature 41..."
Utekin glanced at Song Heping, then at Ibrahim's direction.
It was a long distance.
He couldn't help but ask, "At this distance, are you confident..."
Bam—
Before he finished speaking, Song Heping fired the gun.
"Suka!"
He cursed, turning his head sharply, raising the AK-12 assault rifle in his hands to look through the scope.
But no matter how he looked, he couldn't see Ibrahim anymore, only a chaotic group of 1515 mbers surrounding the pickup, panicking like ants whose nest had been disturbed.
Song Heping stowed his gun, quickly rushed down the sand slope, and shouted loudly: "It's our turn now!"
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