Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1177 Warehouse Attack
7 o'clock at night.

Sky, towards Bakda, altitude 25000 feet.

Two F-15E Strike Eagle heavy fighter jets tore through the thin, cold air at the bottom of the stratosphere.

The underwings and fuselage hardpoints are fully loaded with the Grim Reaper's provisions—GBU-38 JDAM precision-guided bombs and AGM-65 Maverick air-to-ground missiles.

Inside the cockpit, the highly integrated display screens emitted a deep blue light, illuminating the faces of the pilots "Viper 1-1" and "Viper 1-2" as if they were sculptures.

"Viper 1-1, this is 'Dark Blade'. I have arrived at the designated standby airspace and am establishing a circular defense flight path. Weather conditions in the target area are good, and visibility is excellent. I can provide ground support at any time."

The voice of the AC-130U gunship commander came through the radio on the public tactical channel.

"Viper 1-1 received, 'Dark Blade'."

The lead pilot, nicknamed "Viper 1-1," a veteran pilot with over two thousand hours of flight experience, quickly responded:

"We anticipate reaching our optimal attack position in ten minutes. As planned, my crew will conduct the initial high-altitude precision strike using JDAMs. You will be responsible for the subsequent low-altitude sweep, suppressing any surviving moving units and ensuring the damage is effective. Over."

“Darkblade understands. The artillery system is warmed up, the 40mm Bofors cannon and the 105mm howitzer are ready with ammunition, and the electro-optical and infrared sensors are scanning. Good luck on your hunt, ‘Viper’.”

Slightly lower behind the Strike Eagle formation, the massive AC-130U Ghost, like a vulture searching for carrion, slowly circled in a huge circle.

Its specially reinforced fuselage sides, with multiple weapon ports already opened, revealing menacing cannon barrels inside, silently proclaim its absolute dominance in ground attack.

"Viper 1-2, final check of weapon system, JDAM target parameters set, GPS signal confirmation."

"Viper 1-1" issued the command, his finger lightly swiping across the weapon selection button on the side of the joystick.

"1-2 received."

The wingman's voice was younger, with a hint of barely perceptible excitement.

"All GBU-38 fuses are set to attack mode, GPS signal lock is stable, differential correction is successful, and we are waiting to enter firing range."

On the ground, about 30 kilometers northeast of Latamila, outside Warehouse No. 3.

Time: 20:05.

Several dusty pickup trucks, like lurking cheetahs, were quietly hidden in the deep shadows of a few half-collapsed mud-brick houses.

Song Heping crouched behind a broken wall, his gaze like the most precise probe, scanning warehouse number three, two hundred meters away, inch by inch.

Major Petrovsky stood beside him, the dim light from the tactical terminal screen illuminating his angular face.

The warehouse was large, an old steel structure building. The erosion of time and the baptism of war left countless scars on its rusty exterior walls, and some of the corrugated steel panels were twisted, deformed, or even fell off.

However, upon closer inspection, something unusual becomes apparent—

The main gate is made of thick, reinforced steel plates. Several cleverly disguised spherical cameras are distributed around the high points and blind spots around the gate, rotating at a constant and slow speed to monitor every possible approach route.

On the open ground, several men dressed in local robes or tattered jackets seemed to be wandering aimlessly or smoking together, but their sharp eyes, like those of eagles, and the frequency and manner in which they scanned their surroundings revealed their vigilance. More importantly, the weapons they carried—TAR-21 Tavor assault rifles and Uzi submachine guns—were simple and powerful, quite different from the old AK series favored by local militants.

"The defense setup is very professional, with a loose exterior but a tight interior. The cameras cover every corner, and the patrol personnel are highly skilled professionals, not just ordinary thugs."

"Hawkeye" lowered his reconnaissance device and spoke in a very low voice.

Petrovsky looked up from the terminal screen: "Time is tighter than expected. According to intelligence from command, the US air threat is rapidly approaching."

Song Heping's face showed no extraneous expression, only absolute calmness.

He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the SSO team members beside him:

"Twenty minutes. I estimate only twenty minutes."

He held up two fingers. "Starting from the first shot. End the battle within twenty minutes: locate the target, plant the explosives, and then evacuate. Regardless of whether the target is confirmed destroyed or the battle is over, once the time is up, disengage unconditionally. Otherwise…"

He paused, his gaze fixed on the inky sky.

"All of us, along with these vehicles, will become just a few cold numbers and coordinates on the U.S. Air Force pilots' combat report. Understand?"

"understand!"

The crowd's response was low but powerful.

"Peter."

Song Heping looked at Petrovsky, "Major, you'll handle the specific deployments. I'll be responsible for overall coordination and perimeter security. Ensure uninterrupted communication; the 'Eagle Eye' drone footage must be shared in real time."

Petrovsky nodded emphatically and immediately turned to his team members, speaking quickly and clearly: "'Frost,' take your group to flank from the western depression and silently eliminate all the hidden sentries and mobile sentries on the perimeter, clearing the attack route. 'Eagle Eye,' take the drone up immediately and focus on monitoring the warehouse roof, surrounding high points, and any possible sniper positions, with the footage synchronized to the terminal."

“Shadow, you and I will form the first assault team and launch a strong attack from the main gate on the east side. Angel, you and Orwell will stay in security vehicle number two, keep your distance, but be prepared to rush forward for emergency medical assistance at any time. Cold Blade, as usual, you and Hunter will be responsible for long-range support.”

"Yes!"

Amidst the low responses, the team members, like tightly wound precision instruments, quickly dispersed and blended into the deepening twilight.

Song Heping moved to a dilapidated second-floor location with a wider view, which overlooked most of the eastern side of the warehouse and also provided a view of the convoy's hiding place and possible evacuation routes.

He adjusted his headset to ensure the channel was clear, then raised his assault rifle and, through the high-magnification scope, carefully examined every detail of the warehouse once more.

Time ticked by, and with each passing second it felt as if the sound of death's wings flapping could be heard.

Five minutes later, a muffled gunshot rang out over the channel.

Then, "Iron Hammer's" suppressed voice came over the radio: "The outer perimeter has been cleared, and the western passage is safe. Two hidden sentry posts have been located and eliminated, confirmed to be Mossad's outer perimeter personnel."

"Received. 'Hawkeye,' report the situation."

Song Heping spoke into the microphone.

"The warehouse roof was clean, and no snipers were found. However, thermal signals indicated that there were at least a dozen people inside the warehouse, distributed in different locations, and they seemed to be on guard. No other abnormalities were found in the surrounding area."

"Hawkeye's" voice came through the headphones.

"action!"

Petrovsky let out a low growl and leaped out from behind his bunker.

"Shadow" and "Thor" positioned themselves on the left and right, forming a standard attack triangle formation as they quickly and cautiously approached the east gate of the warehouse.

Sky, airspace east of Latamira, at an altitude of 22000 feet.

"Viper 1-1, CAOC updates target data link information. Based on the latest KEYHOLE-12 satellite imagery and 'Global Hawk' UAV infrared monitoring analysis, it is confirmed that the target convoy stopped three minutes ago in the Kabul freight transit area. The heat source signal is concentrated and there are continuous small flashes, indicating a firefight. It is suspected that the target is attacking or urgently searching the facilities there."

Over the communications channel, the commander's voice from the rear carried a hint of urgency.

"Viper 1-1 received. Correct course, fly directly to Kabul transit station. Expected to enter JDAM's optimal throwing radius in seven minutes."

"Viper 1-1" calmly replied, making subtle adjustments to the control stick and throttle with both hands, changing the fighter jet's course accordingly.

"Dark Blade is simultaneously correcting its flight path and is expected to arrive over the target in eight minutes to establish an attack route."

The AC-130U's response followed immediately.

The countdown to death echoed rapidly between the sky and the barren ground at a suffocatingly synchronized rate.

Ground level, east gate of Warehouse No. 3.

Petrovsky's team had approached to within 30 meters of the gate.

He gave a tactical signal, and "Shadow" and "Thor" immediately spread out to the left and right, taking up firing positions with their guns pointed at the gate and any potential enemies.

Thor took out a palm-sized piece of C4 explosive from a specific compartment in his tactical vest, skillfully inserted a miniature detonator, and then, like applying a plaster, precisely pressed it onto the cylinder of the seemingly exceptionally sturdy steel chain lock.

The three quickly retreated behind the nearest concrete block.

"boom!"

A dull, not-so-loud explosion rang out. The steel lock and part of the latch shattered, sending twisted metal fragments flying everywhere.

"Break in! Break in!" Petrovsky roared, the first to rush out from behind cover, his gun pointed at the dark space inside the door.

Almost at the same instant the explosion rang out and the doors burst open!

"Da da da da——"

"Bang bang bang!"

Inside the warehouse, at least three pre-set firing positions simultaneously unleashed deadly flames!
Bullets rained down like a storm, sending cement debris flying from the door frame and clanging as they struck the metal crates beside it, sending sparks flying.

The scorching hot bullet scraped through the air, emitting a piercing shriek. "Take cover!"

Petrovsky dove to the side, rolling behind a huge machine tool, bullets following his path, plowing up trails of dust on the ground behind him.

The enemy reacted extremely quickly and shot with precision. Their response to the sudden attack was also remarkably swift, clearly indicating that they were highly trained agents.

"Attention! One light machine gun at the nine o'clock position, on top of the cargo stack!"

Song Heping's calm and swift voice rang out in the assault team's earpieces, and at the same time, he pulled the trigger.

"Bang! Bang!"

Two precise single-shot bursts.

The machine gunner on top of the cargo container stack at the nine o'clock position had just emptied a belt of ammunition and was about to replace it when his body jolted violently and he fell to the side.

"There's an enemy on the steel frame in the upper corner! He's watching me!"

"Shadow's" voice was urgent. He had just tried to move when a bullet accurately hit the edge of the cargo box where he had been hiding, leaving a smoking hole.

Petrovsky turned his gun around and fired continuously at the indistinct figure on the steel frame in the upper left corner.

The bullets struck the steel frame, scattering a series of dazzling sparks.

The Mossad agent hiding in the shadows was forced to turn back, unable to take effective aim.

Just then, the "Iron Hammer" team also broke into the warehouse through a small door they had quietly opened on the west side, and launched a fierce attack from the enemy's flank and rear.

The sounds of TAR-21 fire and V-AR rifle roars mingled fiercely inside the warehouse, with the occasional explosion of grenades making the entire warehouse vibrate and dust fall in clumps.

The battle instantly entered its most brutal and chaotic close-quarters combat phase.

Every second someone falls, and the air is filled with the smell of gunpowder, blood, and a tense, anxious atmosphere.

While providing burst fire support from all directions, Song Heping growled over the public channel: "Speed ​​up! We don't have time to waste! Major, report your internal situation! If necessary, I'll storm in through the back door."

"No need! We are clearing out the remaining resistance! The enemy is very tenacious, resisting step by step from their fortifications! We still need more time!"

"boom!"

Petrovsky kicked open the thin wooden door of the office. Inside, a Mossad agent had just raised his pistol when he was hit in the chest by a precise double shot from "Shadow," who followed closely behind. He fell to the ground without uttering a sound.

The office interior was very simple, but a heavy metal cover, obviously added later, stood out in the center of the floor.

Above the cover is a numeric keypad and an iris scanner that flashes red light.

"Bring Orwell here!"

Petrovsky pressed his earpiece and roared.

Soon, Orwell was carried to the scene by the "angel" like a chick.

"The password." Petrovsky pressed his pistol directly against his temple.

Because of extreme fear, the man's voice was distorted: "Sam...Samson2014! It's Samson2014!"

"Shadow" quickly typed on the keyboard.

With a soft "beep", the keyboard light turned green.

Petrovsky roughly dragged Orwell in front of the scanner and forcefully pried open his eyes.

A red light swept across.

"Iris verification passed."

A cold, electronic synthesized voice rang out. A mechanical sound came from inside the heavy metal cover, followed by a "click," and then it slowly slid open to one side, revealing a concrete staircase extending downwards.

Assault soldier "Frost" entered with her gun raised...

Right now!
bang bang——

A cluster of sparks flashed below.

Immediately afterwards, "Frost" fell heavily to the ground.

"Uh-"

Petrovsky immediately raised his gun and fired continuously down the passage.

Da da da da da——

Bullets rained down on the end of the passage.

Without saying a word, "Thor" tore off a grenade, released the pin, and threw it into the passage.

The "angel" dragged the fallen "Frost" out of the passage.

"'Frost' has been shot! Repeat, 'Frost' has been shot! Shot in the abdomen, bleeding heavily!"

After dragging "Frost" to a safe corner, "Angel" quickly checked the wound, her face instantly turning extremely pale.

The bullet wound was gruesome, and the blood was dark red, copious, and fast-moving.

"Penetrating wound! Possibly affecting the intestines and liver! Blood pressure is dropping rapidly! I can only provide emergency hemostasis and fluid resuscitation here! He must be transferred to another ward as soon as possible! Otherwise..."

"Angel" performed battlefield first aid as quickly as possible, tearing open the hemostatic cotton and pressing the wound firmly with pressure bandages.

"Got it! Hang in there! 'Shadow,' 'Thor,' come with me!"

A flicker of pain crossed Petrovsky's eyes, but it was immediately replaced by a deeper resolve.

Time is the only luxury they cannot afford.

After putting on their gas masks, the three quickly rushed down the stairs into the dark room.

It was cold and dry inside, and the air was filled with a nauseating smell that was a mixture of pungent and sweet fishy odors.

The scene before them sent a chill down their spines, even to the most worldly-wise of them.

Rows of metal drums and special plastic containers marked with hazardous chemical symbols were neatly stacked, next to a set of chemical experiment and mixing equipment that looked quite professional.

In front of these things lay the body of an armed man.

It looks like he was killed in an explosion.

"Thor, load the explosives as fast as you can and retreat!"

Petrovsky gave a stern command.

Thor took out high-energy plastic explosives and a military timed detonation device that he had prepared beforehand from his backpack.

The "shadow" cooperated from the side.

They moved with practiced skill, installing explosives and setting up parallel fuses on several key load-bearing columns, the areas with the densest accumulation of chemicals, and the device itself, ensuring absolute safety.

Sky, Latamira airspace, 20000 feet above the ground.

The night was dark.

"Viper 1-1, I have reached the edge of the target airspace and am scanning the ground with multi-mode sensors... Confirmed to have a continuous and strong heat source signal in the target area. Spectral analysis shows that there have been explosions and a large number of small arms fire. The heat source is concentrated inside the target warehouse structure, and the firefight is still ongoing."

The commander of the AC-130U "Dark Blade" reported.

"Viper 1-1 received. My aircraft has entered the initial attack path and is preparing to drop..."

"Viper 1-1" had his thumb already on the red weapon release button guard; with just a light press, Death would be unleashed.

suddenly!

A warning message from the Air Force command came through the channel.

"Calling Viper Squad, an unidentified aircraft has appeared and entered radar warning range, distance 112, direction XXX—they're heading your way! Be on alert! Be on alert!"

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

　　
　
(End of this chapter)