Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1126 Absolutely No Retreat!

Entrance No. 3 is located at the three o'clock position of the command post, only 500 meters away.

Haibab's command post defensive perimeter was the last line of defense in the entire campaign.

This defense perimeter is set according to the terrain and the location of buildings, and is designated by the time position on the clock face.

When a crisis occurs in a particular direction, it is quickly reported using the entrance number "XX" as a designation. This is a common military term, simple and clear.

The entire city of Haibab is currently engulfed in a meat grinder of street fighting, with every building and street under intense fire.

For Abu Omar, the commander of the "Victory Front," he had his own ambitions and plans.

Take Haibab as quickly as possible to open the southern gateway to Damascus. After replenishing the foreign mercenary forces and equipment in the Otaba camp further south, use pickup trucks and armored units to quickly advance northward in a mechanized manner. Before the "1515" armed group in the east breaks through Palmyra and the HTS Sam Liberation Organization in the north opens Idlib, open the passage to Damascus and occupy the capital.

It's important to understand that capturing a country's capital is symbolic. Being the first to break through Damascus means that the "Victory Front" will have the greatest say among all opposition and extremist armed groups in Syria.

This was also a task that his backers, Turkey and the United States, had made him complete.

Money is never given away for free.

Omar risked everything for this.

He pushed almost all of his troops into the city to fight street battles with the defenders.

In fact, street fighting is a very foolish thing.

After all, urban warfare in modern warfare means a meat grinder, meaning huge casualties.

He now has a numerical advantage and has broken through the outskirts of Haibab, dismantling the government forces' defenses. Logically, to secure a victory, he should besiege the city and send troops to infiltrate behind enemy lines to harass their supply lines, causing Haibab to bleed out continuously, thereby breaking their will to fight.

This method and tactic have a very high chance of success.

Unless a miracle occurs, taking Haibaib is as easy as taking candy from a baby.

Unfortunately, Abu Omar didn't have time either.

He was anxious.

There are concerns that siege tactics combined with harassment would waste a lot of time.

Among the anti-government forces currently in the north, east, and south, my own "Victory Front" is the most likely to be the first armed force to enter Damascus.

After all, Haibab is less than 200 kilometers from Damascus, while even if the 1515 militants take Palmyra, the eastern gateway, they are still more than 300 kilometers away from Damascus. Not to mention the north, the HTS militants have only just taken Idlib, and even if they take Homs, they will still be far from Damascus.

Omar couldn't help but imagine the glorious moment when he would one day ascend to an important position on the Syrian political stage, and the dopamine rush that made him so excited that he couldn't contain himself and, like a crazy gambler, he went all in on his troops into the city.

"What's there to be afraid of?!"

He asked himself.

According to the information I have obtained, a thousand foreign mercenaries have been assembled in Otaba, and another three thousand mercenaries are crossing the border between Yodan and Siria toward Otaba.

These guys were recruited by the local chickens and the egg-shaped chickens.

There is never a shortage of soldiers in the Middle East.

As long as there's money, people will risk their lives.

For a few thousand dollars, poor people who adhere to conservative fundamentalism would not hesitate to give up their lives.

Even at a greater cost, as long as we can keep pushing the front line forward, tomorrow morning, when Obama's reinforcements and supplies arrive...

hey-hey……

As Omar thought of this, he couldn't help but smile.

"Chief, we've breached their last line of defense!"

The radio crackled with news that nearly made Omar burst out laughing.

"They've broken through the final defensive perimeter?!"

He nearly jumped up from his seat in the command vehicle.

"That's right, Mamlien has broken through their last line of defense. If I'm not mistaken, their command post is less than 500 meters away from the line!"

"Quickly! Mobilize all forces and push forward to tear open an even bigger gap! I want to capture that old bastard Jamal alive!"

"Understood, Chief!"

Omar put down the walkie-talkie and burst into laughter.

The slight nervousness I felt earlier was replaced by excitement.

"Get the car ready! I'm going to the city!"

"Going to the city?"

The subordinates were somewhat surprised.

"It's a complete mess there right now..."

"It's alright, we've already broken through their last line of defense. Let's move away and find a high point to observe. I want to witness the final victory with my own eyes! Once we take Haibab, there will be no natural defenses south of Damascus! Hahahaha!"

Omar, who hadn't slept for over ten hours, was now full of energy, as if he had taken expired Viagra.

"Yes, chief."

A few minutes later, Omar got into an armored vehicle and, escorted by several armed pickup trucks, rumbled towards the city.

At the same time, Song Heping and the cook, along with the last dozen or so Wagner guards that could be mobilized from the command post, rushed out of the underground bunker and arrived at the position near entrance number three.

The scene before my eyes was like a painting of hell.

The narrow streets were filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder and blood.

The sandbag fortifications that were originally built along the street have been blown to pieces, with sand and dark red blood clots mixed together and smeared everywhere.

The body of a government soldier was half-hanging on the remaining sandbags, his AK74 automatic rifle still clutched tightly in his hand.

The exterior walls of the buildings on both sides of the street were riddled with bullet holes, as if they had contracted some kind of terrible skin disease.

Entrance No. 3 is actually a two-meter-wide road running east to west.

At the western end of the road, there is a stone wall about half a meter thick, with four- or five-story buildings on both sides. The government army used this place to establish a defensive line and positions, because if tanks tried to enter, they would be taken out by the government army rocket launcher operators in the buildings on both sides.

Therefore, this is a good location for setting up a defensive position.

However, the "Victory Front" organized a suicide squad that broke through the sandbag positions at the street entrance and is currently attacking the stone wall. If the stone wall is breached, it means that this last line of defense has been breached.

Upon arriving at the defense line, Song Ping discovered that the situation was worse than he had imagined.

The stone wall was covered with black burn marks and gaps left by the explosion.

Behind the wall lay the bodies of seven or eight government soldiers and Wagner soldiers, their blood staining the ground and soaking the rubble beneath them.

Clearly, these soldiers had died on the spot, without even a chance to be rescued.

The remaining dozen or so soldiers relied on the gaps in the stone wall and the cover at the base of the wall to fire desperately outwards, but their firepower was clearly suppressed. The enemy's bullets rained down on both sides of the stone wall, sending up a series of sparks and stone chips.

"Mr. Song! Colonel Yevgeny!"

A Syrian officer, his face blackened by gunpowder smoke, saw them and, as if seeing saviors, shouted hoarsely, "They outnumber us! Charge like madmen! We can't hold them off any longer!"

Before he could finish speaking, a frantic roar of engines and the fanatical shouts of rebel soldiers came from the front of the position!
"Allahu Akbar!" "Holy shit!"

Upon hearing this sound, Song Heping immediately shuddered.

Anyone who shouts such a ridiculous slogan is either victorious or planning to be martyred.

He quickly looked out from the observation window.

A dilapidated pickup truck, reinforced with thick steel plates and with its windshield welded shut, was seen charging madly down the street toward the stone wall like a raging bull, with black smoke billowing from its hood!

It was indeed a suicidal charge!
These Middle Eastern extremist groups love this kind of thing.

The "Victory Front" truly lives up to its reputation as an extremist organization.

Song Heping felt both disgusted and chilled.

Once this guy crashes into us...

I'm afraid even this half-meter-thick stone wall couldn't withstand such a violent explosion.

The gap will be torn open soon.

Song Heping glanced at the truck bed, which was filled with wooden crates secured by ropes and covered with tarpaulins, but the exposed mortar shells and bundles of TNT explosives were vaguely visible!
This is practically a giant, mobile bomb!

"Suicide car! Shoot it! Stop it!"

Panic-stricken screams erupted on the battlefield!

The defending soldiers unleashed a hail of bullets at the pickup truck.

AK-74 bullets clanged and clattered against the welded steel plates and reinforced vehicle body, sparks flying, but they were utterly ineffective in stopping this steel monster from approaching!

Panic is spreading.

Some people on the defensive line even began to instinctively shrink back, looking for a way out.

"Don't panic! Stay calm!"

Song Heping knew that at this moment, if even one person retreated, it would cause a chain reaction.

He raised his gun and aimed it at the soldiers who were trying to retreat.

"Whoever retreats will be killed!"

Upon seeing the dark muzzle of a gun, several government soldiers immediately stopped retreating.

Song Heping swiftly raised his AK-74M assault rifle, the butt firmly against his shoulder, and instantly locked onto his target through the PK-AS red dot sight.

He was all too familiar with this kind of suicidal modified pickup truck.

The 1515 armed forces love to play these kinds of tricks.

Their "martyr" squads often used these suicide attacks to clear passages when the fighting became stalemate.

Actually, this is a clumsy method.

Success requires a lot of effort and dedication.

But this approach is very effective.

After all, when faced with a group of fearless mobile human bombs, any normal person would instinctively feel fear.

Once fear arises, one will retreat.

That's exactly the effect the leaders of extremist groups want.

Instead of shooting at the thick steel plates, Song Heping held his breath and calmly aimed at the narrow gap between the welded steel plate in front of the driver and the hood of the car body—the only place where he could observe the road conditions and the only angle from which a bullet could enter the cockpit!

boom!
boom!
boom!
A precise three-round burst!

The bullet pierced through the narrow gap and entered the driver's compartment.

"explode!"

Song Heping roared and quickly lay face down on the ground.

The pickup truck, which was speeding wildly, suddenly veered off course, as if it were drunk, and crashed headfirst into the load-bearing wall of the ground floor of a three-story building on the left side of the street that was already on the verge of collapse!
boom! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
A deafening roar resounded!
Hundreds of kilograms of explosives and shells piled up in the truck bed were detonated instantly!
A massive fireball shot into the air, instantly engulfing the entire pickup truck and everything around it! The powerful shockwave, like an invisible giant hammer, slammed into the stone walls and everyone's chests, almost suffocating them.

The ground floor of the three-story building was completely destroyed, and the upper structure groaned in a sickening groan. A few seconds later, the walls and main structure collapsed with a roar, and the dust that was kicked up covered the entire block like a thick fog.

Even after the shockwave of the explosion subsided, the people on the position still had a ringing in their ears and felt a sharp pain in their hearts and lungs.

Fortunately, this desperate suicide attack was stopped.

However, before anyone could catch their breath, the Wagner sniper, who was observing from the high vantage point, shouted a desperate warning again: "Tank! One o'clock! T-72! About 500 meters! It's aiming here!!"

Song Heping's heart tightened suddenly, and he quickly glanced into the distance.

It would have been better if I hadn't looked; once I did, my hair stood on end.

A massive T-72 main battle tank appeared at the end of the street, its turret slowly rotating, its imposing 125mm smoothbore gun barrel pointing straight at the dilapidated stone wall!
"Get off the stone wall! Everyone! Spread out! Find cover! Quickly!"

Song Heping roared at the top of his lungs, and at the same time shoved a government soldier next to him who was still a little stunned.

Just as everyone scrambled away from the stone wall shelter—

boom! ! !
A burst of intense heat shot out from the tank's cannon!
The shell slammed into the center of the stone wall at a speed too fast for the naked eye to perceive!

Gravel and debris rained down in all directions!
A huge gap was blasted open in the thick stone wall!

boom! ! !
The second shot followed immediately! It accurately hit the relatively intact wall next to the breach!

More rubble collapsed!
boom! ! !
The third shot!
The tank made a slight adjustment, and the shell penetrated directly into the foundation of the stone wall!

After the violent explosion, this core barrier, which had held out for so long, finally groaned under the strain and collapsed completely, turning into a huge pile of rubble. Although it could still block vehicles from passing through, it could no longer provide effective cover for infantry.

"Allahu Akbar!"

The religious slogans that Song Heping both knew and hated rang out again.

Behind the tanks, a large number of "Victory Front" infantrymen appeared in the shadows, shouting excitedly, and began to advance under the cover of the tanks!

"Damn it! We can't hold out! Old Song, let's retreat! Let them in, we'll retreat into the buildings and fight them house by house!"

The cook emptied a magazine, then ducked back to reload while yelling at Song Heping. The barrel of the PKP machine gun was already burning hot.

Song Heping's gaze swept rapidly across the surrounding environment.

The command post was less than 500 meters behind us; this was the last decent line of defense.

Once abandoned, the rebel infantry and the tank could advance unimpeded, directly threatening or even besieging the command post.

If the command post is destroyed or communications are cut off, the entire Haibab defense system will collapse instantly!
The soldiers will lose unified command and coordination, turning into scattered soldiers fighting independently, and will be easily divided and annihilated by the enemy.

We absolutely cannot back down!

His gaze suddenly fixed on the three-story building that had been half-collapsed by the suicide truck and further damaged by the tank shelling, as well as another four-story building across from it that was also badly damaged.

An extremely bold, even crazy, idea instantly formed in his mind.

　Asking for a monthly ticket! Asking for a monthly ticket!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)