Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1179 Evacuation
Just as US and Russian warplanes were locked in a standoff in the air, the ground operations outside Latamila were also entering their most critical final stage.

"Explosives set! All critical points double-confirmed. Five-minute countdown begins! Irreversible!"

"Shadow's" voice was quick and calm, and he gripped a miniature detonator controller with a reading already displayed tightly in his hand.

Petrovsky pressed the call button on the throat microphone with his thumb almost without pausing:
"Attention all personnel! Mission accomplished! Repeat, mission accomplished! Now execute the withdrawal plan! Retreat at full speed to the rendezvous point along the predetermined route! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!"

SSO members leaped from their respective cover positions and quickly formed a standard retreat formation.

The team members on the flanks did not hesitate to unleash a hail of bullets on any corners and windows in the warehouse area that might still pose a threat. The dense gunfire rang out like popping beans, suppressing any sporadic resistance that might hinder the retreat.

The bullets struck the concrete walls and metal supports, sending up a trail of sparks and debris.

"Angel!"

Petrovsky shouted.

"Get on the vehicle with 'Frost' along with 'Shadow,' and we'll provide cover."

"understand!"

"Angel" shouted and helped "Frost" up from the corner of the wall. The assault soldier "Shadow" carried "Frost" on his back, while "Angel" helped to stabilize him and checked the wound again to see if the pressure was effective.

Then, taking advantage of the moment when the other team members suppressed the remaining firepower of the Mossad agents, the two rushed toward the armed pickup trucks parked in the shadows of the warehouse at top speed.

"'Iron Hammer,' suppress and hold the rear! Buy us ninety seconds!"

Petrovsky gave the order to the machine gunner "Hammer".

"Roger that!"

Immediately, "Iron Hammer," positioned on a high vantage point near the warehouse exit, operated a PKM light machine gun and unleashed a final, frenzied, and precise barrage of suppressive fire towards any direction from which movement could be detected deep within the warehouse.

Russian-style fire suppression is very distinctive.

In short, it can be summed up in two words—rage!
The PKM light machine gun boasts top-tier firepower among all light machine guns worldwide. Its 7.62×54mm R-rimmed ammunition is powerful enough to effectively penetrate light armor and bunkers, and it can also be used as a light anti-aircraft weapon to engage slow-moving aircraft.

A combat rate of fire of over 250 rounds per minute can provide sustained and suppressive fire support, giving infantry squads fire superiority.

Not only is the PKM light machine gun used by "Iron Hammer" powerful, but it also uses the "Scorpion" ammunition feeding system, the latest equipment of the Russian special forces, which further enhances the machine gun firepower of the SSO team.

The main part of the so-called "Scorpion" ammunition feeding system is a large metal ammunition belt box, which is placed in the machine gunner's special backpack.

The Scorpion ammunition feeding system uses a flexible metal feed chute to transport the ammunition belts from the ammunition box to the machine gun. The ammunition box has a capacity of up to 550 rounds, which is at least twice as effective as those ammunition boxes with a capacity of one or two hundred rounds.

Hot shell casings were ejected from the side of the machine gun, falling to the ground like raindrops with a clanging sound.

The remaining Mossad agents guarding the warehouse were so overwhelmed by "Iron Hammer" that they couldn't even lift their heads and could only hide behind cover around the warehouse like turtles.

Song Heping also left his command post on the second floor of a nearby building and quickly moved toward the evacuation point.

He didn't stop working along the way.

Because his position was about seven meters above the ground, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that he had a commanding view and could clearly see the situation on the top of the warehouse.

Therefore, controlling the area on top of the warehouse became his task.

After all, at such a time, Mossad agents might take the opportunity to climb onto the roof of the warehouse and use the advantageous terrain to fire upon the retreating SSO team, preventing them from leaving.

Sure enough, Song Heping made a discovery less than thirty meters after running.

In the dim light, he keenly spotted two figures trying to peer out through the broken window on the flank, aiming their precision rifles at the retreating "Angel" and "Bear".

Without the slightest hesitation, Song Heping quickly raised his assault rifle, aimed, and fired while moving, all in one smooth motion.

The marksmanship of members from the 203rd Special Forces is beyond question.

bang bang——

bang bang——

Two precise single-shot bursts.

The bullets traveled nearly eighty meters, carrying the invitation of death, and accurately pierced the skulls of the two Mossad agents.

The figure at the window fell over with a thud.

"Clear!"

Song Heping's voice rang out on the channel, brief and powerful.

"Get on the bus! Everyone get on the bus! Quickly!"

Petrovsky stood by the door of a pickup truck, shouting and waving his arms.

The team members helped each other and quickly moved away from the contact area like the receding tide, jumping into the back of the pickup truck.

The heavy equipment collided with the vehicle body, producing a dull thud.

The engine had already been started in advance, and its deep roar indicated that it was ready to start at any moment.

"Hurry! 'Frost's' blood pressure is dropping!"

"Angel" knelt in the bumpy back of the car, pressing his hands tightly against the wound on "Frost's" abdomen, the blood already staining his arms and front of his shirt.

Petrovsky was the last to jump into the passenger seat of the lead pickup truck, slamming the door shut with a loud thud.

"Drive! Full speed! Charge out!"

He pounded on the car door, almost roaring at the "Shadow" who was driving.

"boom--!!!"

The diesel engine roared like a beast, and the tires screeched wildly against the rough gravel, kicking up choking dust and pebbles.

Several pickup trucks accelerated recklessly and crashed through the rusted wire fence at the edge of the warehouse area.

The wooden fixed railings were easily broken like matchsticks.

The convoy sped along the pre-planned Gobi Desert route, flooring the accelerator and racing desperately toward the border of Iligor!

Just as the convoy had traveled less than a kilometer, and the warehouses behind them were only slightly obstructed by a few low sand dunes—BOOM!!!

A terrifyingly loud noise suddenly came from behind!

Even from such a distance, and inside a high-speed, violently shaking train, everyone could still clearly feel the ground trembling violently beneath their feet, as if a high-intensity earthquake had occurred!
Looking in the rearview mirror, Song Heping could see a huge fireball rising from the location of the warehouse, accompanied by thick, black, mushroom-shaped smoke that shot straight into the sky!

The shockwave from the explosion even caused ripples to spread across the surface of distant sand dunes.

The warehouse's massive steel frame was easily torn to shreds like a child's building blocks in the face of this destructive force, and then thrown hundreds of meters into the air like straw!

Countless fragments of concrete and twisted metal components, mixed with the pungent smell of chemicals, scattered everywhere, creating a meteor shower over an area of ​​hundreds of meters.

The chemical weapons depot containing the plot to overthrow the Hafez regime, along with the Mossad agents inside, was completely wiped off the face of the earth, leaving only a huge crater and still burning ruins.

No one in the convoy cheered.

Everyone's face was tense.

It's not over yet.

Although the mission was completed, it remains uncertain whether the people will be able to return to Iligo alive.

"At least 90 minutes to the border! Damn, the road conditions are terrible! It's practically a tank testing ground!"

The lead driver, nicknamed "Shadow," looked at the route and estimated time displayed on the navigation screen, his voice filled with immense anxiety.

"Hopefully we have 90 minutes of safety time!"

As Petrovsky growled, his eyes remained fixed on the sky.

There, the deadly dogfight between American and Russian fighter jets seemed to intensify due to the explosions on the ground.

Sky, La Tamira, 21000 feet above the ground.

"Viper 1-1, enemy aircraft approaching from the right 3 o'clock position! 100 meters away, same altitude!"

The voice of the wingman "Viper 1-2" pilot boomed in the encrypted channel, every syllable as taut as a fully drawn bowstring.

Without needing to look at the radar, he could clearly capture every detail of the Su-35S with just his eyes—the gray-blue low-visibility paint, the large red five-pointed star victory insignia on the side of the fuselage, and the blurry but cold outline of the pilot's face wearing a Russian-style helmet under the cockpit canopy.

The distance was so close that we could see the details of the missiles mounted under the wings of the other aircraft.

"Maintain formation, 1-2. Hold on."

Major Mitchell, the lead pilot, spoke in a cold voice, his left thumb hovering over the safety switch on the weapons control panel, ready to deal with the worst-case scenario.

His gaze pierced through the canopy of the F-15E Strike Eagle, locking onto the Su-35S lead aircraft that was slowly approaching.

Several fighter jets, representing the pinnacle of aviation industry achievements in the East and West, flew side by side in the darkening skies of La Tamila at a relative speed of over 800 kilometers per hour, with their wingtips less than 100 meters apart.

This distance is like dancing on a knife's edge for a supersonic fighter jet; any slight airflow disturbance or operational error could lead to a catastrophic collision.

The Su-35S "Sickle 1-1" continues to approach, making bold and risky moves.

In close-range dogfights, the Su-35S is not afraid of the F-15E at all.

Suddenly, the nose of the Su-35S jerked upwards at an angle, and the exhaust nozzles of the two AL-41F1S engines emitted longer, dark blue flames as the afterburners instantly activated.

This maneuver exposed the weapon pylons under its fuselage to the Viper formation's view without reservation—the slender R-77 medium-range air-to-air missiles and the short, stubby, and sensitive R-73 short-range air-to-air missiles reflected a cold, deadly gleam under the starlight.

Displaying weapons is the most primitive yet most deterrent form of aerial warning.

Immediately afterwards, "Sickle 1-1" made a dangerous move.

With its unparalleled vector thrust technology, the Su-35S suddenly began a high-speed roll around its central axis, like a weightless spinning top, tearing through the air with a whooshing sound, and instantly rolled from the right side of the F-15E to the left side in an almost brute force manner.

The powerful vortex generated during the roll slammed into the F-15E's fuselage, causing a violent jolt and the attitude indicator on the instrument panel shook instantly.

This is not a performance, it is humiliation, it is an overwhelming declaration of technology.

"You son of a bitch! He's rolling a ball in our faces! CAOC! CAOC! Viper 1-1 calling! Russian fighter jets are conducting an extremely dangerous provocation, less than fifty meters away! Weapons display and tactical deterrence maneuvers completed! Requesting authorization for reciprocal countermeasures! Repeat, requesting authorization!"

Lieutenant Wilson, in the cockpit of his F-15E wingman, started swearing on the radio.

There was only hissing electrical noise in the channel, and no response came from the other end.

Every second of silence in command felt like torture for the two American pilots.

A few seconds later, the order finally came from the Joint Air Operations Center (CAOC) at the Iligo Air Base, the voice as flat as plain water:
"Viper Squadron, CAOC confirmed receipt. Top command: Maintain maximum restraint and avoid any actions that could escalate the situation. Immediately terminate the current standoff, heading 195, descend to 15000 altitude, and return to base. Repeat: Immediately disengage and return to base. Over."

"What?! Escape?!"

Wilson practically spat out the words, “We’re just going to leave like this? Let them plant a flag where we just took a dump?!”

"1-2! Execute the command!"

Major Mitchell appeared more composed, his command carrying an unquestionable sternness.

He understood better than Wilson that behind this seemingly humiliating order lay the Pentagon and the White House's assessment of the situation—that a leak of a secret operation must not trigger a direct military conflict with Russia.

No one can afford to pay this price.

Mitchell took a deep breath, suppressing the anger and humiliation churning in his chest, and pushed the control stick. The F-15E began to turn smoothly.

At the same time, he switched to the international general aviation emergency frequency, his voice as cold as the Siberian permafrost:

"Russian 'Sickle' formation, in view of your dangerous and unprofessional flight behavior, my aircraft is ordered to leave this airspace. This matter will be recorded and reported. Over."

After a brief silence on the channel, a clear, undisguised mocking laugh rang out, followed by the disconnection of the communication channel.

Two F-15E Strike Eagles increased their thrust, their massive fuselages arcing as they flew toward the base, leaving air superiority over Latamira to the four Su-35S fighters circling like vultures.

　I sneaked home from the hospital, wrote two chapters, and then had to go back to the hospital for an IV drip.

　　As long as the Earth doesn't explode, the author will continue to update.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)