Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1239 Strike first to gain the upper hand!
Near the hills, the squad leader, "Tombstone," suddenly raised his fist again, and the entire squad froze instantly. All members instinctively searched for the nearest cover, their guns warily pointed at their respective sectors.

"Is there a situation?"

The deputy captain asked in a low voice through the throat microphone, his voice tense.

"do not know……"

The voice of "tombstone" carried a hint of barely perceptible doubt. He strained to open his eyes wide, scanning the dark sandy slopes on both sides through the four-eye panoramic night vision device.

It was so quiet that even the annoying wind seemed to have deliberately held its breath.

It was an abnormal, deathly silence, as if the sound of the entire world had been sucked away by some invisible force. His unease grew stronger and stronger.

Just as he was about to order a retreat for a more thorough reconnaissance—

call out--

call out--

call out--!
A sharp and piercing tearing sound suddenly shattered the suffocating silence!

The sound came from the darkness above, approaching faster than anyone could imagine!

"Mortar!!!! Take cover—!"

The experienced "tombstone" immediately found the shell model that matched the sound of it cutting through the air in his mind and issued a warning at top speed.

However, the roar was completely swallowed up by the first deafening explosion as soon as it left his throat!
boom!
boom!
boom!
Three 82mm high-explosive mortar shells landed almost simultaneously in the center, front, and rear of the marching squad!

Clearly, this was a salvo.

There wasn't even a test shot!

This means that the coordinates here have already been determined.

The enemy artillery's firing parameters were already set!

A dazzling orange-red fireball suddenly erupted in the darkness, instantly illuminating the twisted valley and the horrified faces on the ground!

The massive shockwave spread wildly in a spherical shape, carrying deadly pre-fabricated fragments and shattered gravel, sweeping everything away like a steel storm!
"Ah—! My eyes!"

"God! Save me!"

"Medic! Hamid has been shot!"

The screams and groans of agony burst forth briefly between the explosions, only to be silenced by even more intense artillery fire!
Jiang Feng didn't give the other party any time to react at all!

The first salvo had barely begun when the observers confirmed in just one second that the impact point deviation was almost zero. All the pre-positioned mortar positions then unleashed a rain of death at the highest rate of fire!

Boom boom boom boom——! ! !
The entire valley instantly turned into a living hell!
The continuous explosions and fireballs illuminated the area with flickering light, and smoke mixed with dust rose into the sky, forming a thick wall of smoke.

Hot metal shrapnel whistled through the air, mercilessly piercing limbs beyond bulletproof plates, tearing through equipment, and reaping lives.

The ISOF members at the forefront were immediately hit with devastating force. Their training and individual protection were clearly insufficient to cope with such a massive, all-encompassing attack from above.

Delta Force members demonstrated a stronger battlefield survival instinct, immediately diving down and searching for low-lying areas or shell craters upon hearing the sound of air being cut.

However, the 82mm mortar's kill radius and explosive power were maximized in this relatively narrow terrain!
There is nowhere to escape!
"This is the 'Grey Fox' squad! We've been ambushed by heavy artillery fire! Coordinates... repeat, coordinates... requesting immediate response..."

JTAC “guide” was thrown to the ground by the blast wave of the first explosion. He struggled to his feet, grabbed the AN/PRC-163 multi-function radio hanging around his neck, and shouted at the top of his lungs, his mouth and nose filled with choking smoke and sand.

boom!
Another shell exploded less than ten meters to his side and rear!

The powerful shockwave slammed him to the ground again, the radio flew out of his hand, hit a rock, and the indicator light went out instantly, likely indicating that the internal components were damaged.

He felt dizzy and all he could hear was a buzzing sound.

"Bakda Command Center! Bakda! 'Grey Fox' calling! Respond! We need urgent air support! Repeat, urgent air support! Location..."

Using a boulder as cover, the vice-captain pulled out a spare satellite phone and frantically pressed the send button, but the screen only displayed a flashing error message—

The powerful shockwave from the explosion damaged the equipment and severely disrupted communication quality.

"Establish a circular defense! Vice-captain, left flank! 'Doctor,' right flank! Rescue the wounded!"

"Tombstone" spat out the blood and foam from his mouth; a piece of flying rock had just cut the corner of his mouth.

He shouted at the top of his lungs, trying to muster the remaining strength.

But under the devastating barrage of artillery fire, the so-called defensive perimeter was as fragile as paper, and each explosion reduced the number of survivors.

The intense bombardment, which lasted for nearly two minutes, felt like an eternity.

As the echoes of the last shell faded and dissipated in the canyon, an eerie silence descended upon the valley.

Compared to the previous explosions, now only the painful groans of the wounded and the deafening roar in the ears of the survivors could be heard.

The echoes of the artillery fire had not yet completely faded away—

"Assault! Group one on the left, group two on the right, group three suppressing from the front! Capture them alive!"

Jiang Feng's cold and clear command instantly shattered the brief silence!
In an instant, the once desolate river valley slopes on both sides suddenly burst forth with countless figures, like a beehive awakened!
Hundreds of mercenaries from the "Musician" Defense Battalion, clad in desert camouflage, their faces painted with camouflage paint, and their eyes gleaming coldly behind night vision goggles, charged down the earthen slope from all directions in skillful three-man tactical formations, like a pack of wolves that had caught the scent of blood!

A brutal close-quarters mopping-up operation has begun.

The few surviving Delta Force and ISOF members, relying on their remaining combat instincts and rigorous training, attempted a final stand.

Bang!

Bang!

Two precise, short bursts of fire came from the "tombstone" that was propped up against a half-charred rock. Two "musician" mercenaries who had charged the fastest from the flank were hit and fell to the ground with muffled groans.

But more bullets poured in from multiple directions like a deluge, hitting the rocks and sending up dense sparks, suppressing the "tombstone" so much that it couldn't even lift its head.

The overwhelming numerical advantage, coupled with the superior position, made any resistance futile.

The deputy captain attempted to return fire with the M320 grenade launcher mounted on his rifle towards the densest part of the crowd. Just as he leaned out slightly, a 5.56mm rifle bullet from an unknown angle accurately struck his right shoulder joint, where he was holding the gun!
He screamed as the grenade launcher slipped from his hand and fell to the ground, sending him tumbling backward. The "doctor" had just injected morphine into an ISOF soldier whose abdomen had been ripped open by shrapnel, and before he could even bandage him, he was pounced on by three or four "musician" soldiers who pounced on him like wolves and tigers, pinning him to the ground. His rifle was kicked away, and his hands were roughly tied behind his back.

"Tombstone" emptied the last magazine of his HK416. Hearing the firing pin go cold, he didn't hesitate to drop the rifle and swiftly drew his P226 pistol from its holster. But just as he raised his hand, a stun grenade landed at his feet—

bang——

hum-

A deafening buzzing sound suddenly filled his head, his vision blurred, and his eyesight completely failed...

When he had recovered a little, at least three cold gun barrels were pressed firmly against his forehead, temples, and chest.

He froze, his fingers gripping the gun trembling slightly.

Through the blurry night vision goggles, he saw that all the team members who were still standing had been subdued, some were knocked unconscious, some were tied up, and there were many more motionless figures or wounded people curled up and groaning on the ground.

He slumped his fingers and the P226 pistol fell to the cold sand with a thud.

For an American soldier, surrendering is not considered humiliation or shame.

But shock, humiliation, disbelief...

A mix of emotions swirled in his eyes.

They, representing the pinnacle of US ground combat power, the Delta Force, were actually... actually in this damned desert, in the darkness of the early morning, covered by a group of mercenaries with the most primitive and violent artillery fire, and then crushed like rabbits by an overwhelming numerical advantage.
This is the biggest irony of his career!

"Clean up the battlefield! Quickly! Check the wounded and distinguish friend from foe! Handcuff all prisoners, blindfold them, and search them! Take all the equipment you can carry, and destroy what you can't! Hurry! We only have less than fifteen minutes!"

Jiang Feng appeared at the edge of the valley, holding an AK-103 assault rifle equipped with tactical accessories, his voice clearly transmitted to every soldier through a throat microphone.

The well-trained "musician" soldiers carried out their orders efficiently.

They treated their own wounded, assessed enemy casualties, and quickly bound five prisoners, blindfolded them, gagged them, and dragged them like cargo to a pickup truck waiting outside the valley.

At the same time, they rapidly collected scattered enemy weapons, communication equipment, ammunition, and any valuable documents or electronic devices. The entire process was swift, efficient, and ruthless, like a sophisticated machine at work.

Almost simultaneously with the first explosion, the U.S. Joint Operations Center in Bakta was thrown into chaos.

On the large electronic situation map, the blue icon representing the "Grey Fox" team suddenly began to flash violently, and red warning icons such as "Communication interrupted" and "Beacon malfunction" popped up next to it!

The communications officer on duty abruptly looked up, his voice carrying a barely perceptible hint of tension:

"Report! Lost stable contact with 'Grey Fox' squad! Last received intermittent audio clips with loud explosions in the background, and the call content... confirmed to be an ambush by artillery fire!"

On the command console, Colonel Kurt, who had been taking a nap, sprang up as if pricked by a needle, rushed to the control panel, and his face turned ashen under the cold light of the screen.

"Location! Last source of the signal!"

"The last known location of the signal loss has been confirmed to be approximately 30 kilometers west of Hurmatu, in the 'Devil's Tongue' region!"

"Song-he-ping!"

Kurt spat out the name through gritted teeth and slammed his fist into the solid metal control panel, making a dull thud.

"It must be that damned, cunning Dong Daren!"

Everyone in the command center was startled and fell silent instantly.

His eyes were fixed on the latest images transmitted back by the satellite. Due to the orbit and refresh rate, the images were delayed by several minutes, and all that could be seen on the screen were some blurry bright spots and smoke streaks that were different from the surrounding environment.

"Order!"

Kurt's voice was hoarse with anger, but it carried an undeniable murderous intent.

"Al Udeid Air Base! Two F-15E Strike Eagles scramble immediately! Armed with GBU-38 JDAMs and AGM-114 Hellfires! Target area, center coordinates of the Devil's Hsiognomy Strike! Authorized to open fire freely after confirming friend or foe status, without secondary confirmation! Plow that valley clean!"

"Colonel!"

A major, a staff officer in charge of airspace coordination, hurriedly reminded us, "That area is right next to Hurmatu, which is the de facto control zone of 'Musician's' defenses, and there may still be survivors in our squad, posing a direct risk of airstrike..."

"I don't care about any risks!"

Kurt turned his head sharply, his bloodshot eyes glaring at the staff officer.

“That’s our elite squad! They might be being slaughtered right now! Or worse, captured! We have to do something! Either rescue them, or… avenge them! Execute the order immediately!”

He took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing his boiling killing intent, his mind racing as he calculated—

The straight-line distance from Al Udeid Air Base to the target area is approximately 800 kilometers. The F-15E took off urgently, climbed to the optimal altitude, and engaged its afterburners for a supersonic sprint...

Even if everything goes smoothly, it will take at least 30 minutes to reach the target airspace!
In addition, upon arrival, time is needed to identify specific targets, avoid potential survivors, and complete weapon system preparation and lock-on...

"Damn it! Too slow!"

Kurt's heart sank.

By the time his warplanes arrive, there will probably be nothing left but craters, charred remains, and perhaps a few unrecognizable corpses.

Since that cunning bastard Song Heping dared to make a move, he must have calculated the timing perfectly and would never leave any target that would allow the US military to launch an immediate retaliatory strike.

A strong sense of being mocked and a surge of anger nearly consumed Kurt.

For the first time, he experienced the ruthlessness and decisiveness of that Eastern man.

But this time, the other side is no longer paying lip service; this is an open and naked military confrontation!
This is a declaration of war against the US military!

He actually...

They really dared to do that!!!

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

　　
　
(End of this chapter)