Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1174 Surprise Interrogation
Just as Petrovs was consumed by rage at losing track of his target, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly plummeted to freezing point—

"Command post calling on assault team! Drone detected new heat signature!"

The urgent voice of "Signal" boomed in the encrypted channel.

"A suspected target has been spotted near the ground at the base of the north wall of the target building, entering an underground bunker!"

Almost at the same second.

The hunter's calm but noticeably faster confirmation came from the eastern highlands: "There's a movable plank under the grass by the north wall, and someone is entering. Tall and thin, wearing a light-colored shirt, the characteristics highly match Orwell in the intelligence! Requesting instructions!"

Underground bunker!

He's definitely a veteran agent; he's got multiple escape routes ready!

"Everyone to the north side of the building! Repeat, proceed to the north side immediately!"

After issuing the order, Song Heping immediately followed up with, "Hunter, Cold Blade, report the firing angle! Can you stop him before he's fully inside?"

"Cold Blade" responded immediately: "The angle is terrible! The entrance structure creates a blind spot, and most of the target's body is obscured by the upper edge of the entrance and the dense weeds... I'm trying to find a possible firing window..."

"boom!"

Before he could finish speaking, the distinctive sound of the VSS Vintorez silenced sniper rifle rang out once.

But then his frustrated report came through the channel: "The target is startled and is rapidly retreating! The entrance is closing!"

"He's inside! The entrance is completely sealed!"

The hunter's confirmation followed, tinged with a hint of helplessness.

"Damn it!"

Petrovsky cursed under his breath inside the building, but his actions were swift and decisive.

"Assault team, follow me! To the north!"

With a wave of his hand, he led his team, who had just finished clearing out the interior, down to the first floor, smashed open the broken back door, and quickly circled around to the north side of the building.

With precise guidance from drones and snipers, they immediately discovered a thick wooden plank near the base of the wall, beneath an unusually dense clump of camel thorns. The plank was almost indistinguishable from the surrounding ground, but its edges now showed signs of fresh wear.

The wooden planks looked exceptionally sturdy, with heavy metal hinges embedded along the edges.

"This is it! Thor, it's your turn! Blow it up!"

Petrovsky pointed at the wooden board and roared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"no problem."

Thor stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and quickly ran his hand across the surface of the wooden board, assessing its material and thickness. He then checked the structure of the lock and hinges, his brows furrowed tightly.

"Boss, this thing is thickened hardwood, and it might even have steel plates lined inside. A regular explosive cord probably won't cut it. We need a shaped charge or at least a larger charge for detonation..."

"There's no time for such precision! Use the most powerful thing you have and load the explosives as quickly as possible!" Petrovsky urged urgently, glancing at the time.

"it is good."

Without hesitation, Thor quickly took out a pre-made C4 explosive block and its matching detonator from the side pocket of his heavy tactical backpack.

He skillfully began shaping the explosives, preparing to attach them to the key stress points of the wooden locks and hinges.

Just as he finished preparing the explosives and his finger was about to press the remote detonator button—

"Boom!"

A muffled explosion, like a rumble of thunder from the ground, suddenly came from beneath the wooden planks!
The sound wasn't loud, but the vibrations it transmitted were extremely strong, as if they were striking directly at the soles of everyone's feet.

Immediately afterwards, the ground beneath their feet trembled slightly, the heavy wooden plank shook violently, and a plume of bluish-black smoke, mixed with a strong smell of gunpowder and dust, "poofed" out from the cracks at the edge.

"Damn it! What did he detonate down there? Is he trying to blow up and seal off the entrance completely?"

Petrovsky was startled by the sudden explosion and took a half step back, cursing.

"wrong……"

At the command post, Song Heping, using a drone to view the footage and assess the magnitude and effect of the explosion, quickly made a more accurate judgment.

"He's not trying to seal off the entrance! The explosive force isn't enough to completely collapse the reinforced tunnel. He's trying to destroy the other end of the tunnel, or create a collapse to block our pursuit! This isn't an underground safe house; it's an escape route to the outside of the building!"

Having made his assessment, he immediately adjusted the course of the operation.

"Hunter, Cold Blade, expand the search area immediately! Signal! Drone, ascend! Scan the entire area to the north and northwest with the entrance as the center—two hundred meters, no, three hundred meters! Thoroughly scan all areas to the north and northwest! Focus on any possible hidden exits—abandoned wells, livestock burrows, isolated thickets, any unnatural bumps or cracks in the ground! He must have come out from somewhere else!"

"Understood! The drone is climbing, expanding the scanning range!"

The "signal" responded immediately, and the drone was maneuvered to ascend like a falcon, its camera scanning the Gobi Desert from a higher angle and over a wider area.

The next few minutes felt incredibly long and agonizing for every member of the "ghost" squad scattered across the high ground and courtyard surrounding the target building.

The sound of the wind seemed to become clearly audible, and every second of waiting felt like a burning sensation on my nerves.

Such arrest operations require speed; once time is delayed, the variables that may arise are unpredictable, and the risk factor increases exponentially.

The sniper's high-powered scope and observation scope, and the drone's "electronic eyes" scanned every inch of the wasteland to the north again and again, not missing a single abnormality.

Time seemed to be stretched.

finally--

"report!"

Suddenly, the Hunter's voice, tinged with relief, came through the channel: "Target spotted! There's a well-camouflaged abandoned well about 100 meters north of the building. The cover over the well has been removed! Target Orwell has just climbed out! He's running towards the wasteland to the northwest! He's alone! Repeat, Target Orwell has appeared and is fleeing on foot!"

The drone footage quickly locked onto and transmitted real-time images—a middle-aged man wearing a wrinkled white shirt and with hair like tangled weeds was seen crawling out of what appeared to be a dry well in a very disheveled state. He glanced back in panic at the direction of the safe house, and then, without even having time to brush the dust off his body, he staggered and ran towards the desolate depths of the Gobi Desert, his posture resembling that of a gerbil startled from its nest by a falcon.

"He wants to run across the Gobi Desert on his own two legs? He must be fucking insane!"

Nassin, who was at the firing point, saw this scene through his observation scope and couldn't help but mutter a complaint under his breath.

"All units give chase! Capture them alive if possible!"

Without hesitation, Petrovsky pounced on the north side like a tiger spotting its prey. The other SSO members followed closely behind, shooting out of the yard like arrows released from a bow, and in a skilled skirmish formation, gave chase in the direction Orwell had fled.

These special forces soldiers, who have undergone extreme physical training, can run at speeds far exceeding those of agents from intelligence agencies like Orwell on the flat Gobi Desert.

Orwell was clearly panicked. He had a minor injury, and extreme fear and poor physical condition made him stagger as he struggled across the gravel and thorny Gobi Desert at a pitifully slow pace.

However, the direction he chose was slightly undulating, which caused some minor obstruction to the pursuers' vision.

"He can't run very far."

At the command post, Song Heping calmly watched the real-time tracking footage transmitted by the drone and confidently said to "Hunter," "Hunter, give him a warning and make him stop."

"clear."

The "hunter" responded calmly. After a brief aiming maneuver—

"boom!"

A crisp, loud gunshot shattered the relative silence of the wasteland.

The Hunter's SV-98 sniper rifle spat out a burst of sparks.

A 7.62x54mmR bullet, with a sharp whistling sound, struck precisely in an open area less than five meters in front of Orwell.

puff--

A noticeable column of dust and smoke rose from the ground.

Orwell, who was running desperately, was terrified by the gunshot that was so close at hand. He let out a shrill scream, and his legs went weak as if his bones had been removed. He knelt down and instinctively covered his head with his hands, curling his body into a ball.

"That guy stopped and surrendered."

The hunter laughed, "He knows he can't escape."

In the few seconds that Orwell collapsed, "Hammer" and "Angel" had already rapidly surrounded him from both flanks.

The two worked in perfect coordination. One quickly pressed Orwell's back with his knee, while the other deftly twisted his arms behind his back and tightly bound his wrists with high-strength plastic straps with a "snap." Then, they bound his ankles in the same way.

The entire arrest process was swift and efficient, taking no more than ten seconds.

"Target under control! Repeat, target Orwell has been captured!"

Soon, Orwell was dragged back to the two-story building filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood, like a lump of mud.

His gold-rimmed glasses had long since fallen off, his face was covered in dirt and sweat, and his dirty white shirt was torn open, revealing pale skin trembling with fear beneath.

The previous feigned composure of the "White Helmets" leader vanished completely, leaving only the most primal fear of violence and death.

He knew perfectly well who these people in front of him were.

I also know their style of doing things.

They know better who they hate.

Major Petrovsky chose to conduct the interrogation immediately in the main room on the second floor, which had just experienced a fierce gunfight and explosion.

The room was a mess, the acrid smell of gunpowder had not yet dissipated, and bloodstains were visible everywhere on the walls and floor. The pungent smell of blood slithered into everyone's nostrils like snakes.

In Song Heping's view, Petrovsky was very good at choosing locations.

This kind of room inherently creates a powerful psychological pressure.

Tie him to the chair!

Petrovsky casually grabbed a dirty sheet pulled from the bed and vigorously wiped away non-existent dust from the barrel of his V-AR rifle. His movements were slow and methodical, yet they carried a suffocating sense of oppression.

"Iron Hammer" found a sturdy-looking wooden chair from somewhere and roughly pressed the limp Orwell onto it.

"Shadow" then used the high-strength plastic straps he brought to firmly fix Orwell's wrists and ankles to the chair legs and armrests, ensuring that he could not move.

“You…you can’t do this to me! I am…I am protected by international law…I am a member of an NGO…”

Orwell made a final attempt to protest, his voice shrill and distorted with extreme fear, beginning to sound somewhat incoherent.

"international law?"

Petrovsky seemed to have seen the most ridiculous thing in the world. He snorted, then chuckled, and casually threw the dirty sheet he had used to wipe the gun at Orwell's face, interrupting him.

“Here, I am the law.”

He leaned down, his face almost touching Orwell's, his icy blue eyes devoid of any human emotion.

"Tell me, in which warehouse are those weapons-grade chemicals hidden?"

"I...I don't know what you're talking about...what chemicals..."

Orwell's eyes flickered as he tried to avoid that chilling gaze, making a final stand.

Petrovsky, too lazy to argue with him, straightened up and gave "Iron Hammer" a wink.

"Iron Hammer" nodded expressionlessly and took out a pre-filled syringe and a small bottle of clear liquid from a small, unmarked metal box he carried with him.

He skillfully inserted the needle into the bottle opening, drew out a small amount of liquid, expelled the air, and the tiny needle tip gleamed coldly in the dim light.

Song Heping, who was standing to the side, frowned slightly.

He knew he was about to be tortured.

What liquid is in the syringe is not important; what is important is that injecting this stuff into the body is definitely not pleasant.

Whether it was an emetic or a poison is unknown and unimportant...

It doesn't matter at all...

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

　　
　
(End of this chapter)