Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 699 Exhaustion
At the dock, a Mossad strike team began boarding the ship.

These guys are all wearing heavy bulletproof vests, hoods and gas masks, and are armed to the teeth.

Everyone received an order. This time they were facing an extremely dangerous former special forces member. As long as they saw him, there was only one order - kill without mercy!

In the moonlight, a few crystals of liquid sparkled on the mottled capstan on the deck.

The attacking team member who was at the front stopped.

He stretched out his finger and gently touched the few drops of liquid.

The liquid was somewhat viscous, almost solidified.

"Blood."

He raised his hand and made a tactical sign language - "The enemy has been injured."

Then he pointed to the hatch in front.

That is the entrance to the warehouse.

Several people dispersed cautiously, and the first attacking team member turned around and took a small bulletproof shield from the back of another team member.

The area that this shield can protect is very limited and can only protect the upper body.

But better than nothing.

As long as the bullet doesn't hit vital parts like the heart and head, there's at least hope of being rescued.

The stairs that sloped downwards were dark and cold, and the iron plates made a slight creaking sound when one stepped on them.

After going down the stairs, a larger hatch appeared in front.

Go inside and you will see the warehouse.

The three team members formed a column, hiding behind the shield-holding team member and moving slowly forward.

The hatch was pushed open.

The cold air came out like mist.

This is a freezing chamber, apparently used to transport refrigerated food.

There was a pungent fishy smell in the air, which could be felt even through the gas mask.

Looking around, there were batches of boxes covered in net bags, neatly stacked together, with the words "Frozen Fish" written on the boxes.

In addition, there are a large number of silvery-white fish that don’t even have boxes and are all packed in net bags.

Suddenly, a figure flashed by not far away.

The first team member subconsciously pulled the trigger.

blah blah-

blah blah-

The attacker pulled the trigger anyway.

But before he could fire, Song Heping had disappeared into the darkness, the steel-core bullet splashing ice chips behind him.

"Spread out! Search!"

The team leader issues instructions and then reports to the forward point.

"Target found, cargo hold at the bottom of the ship!"

The three of them quickly separated into a triangle formation to cover each other as they advanced.

After walking a few meters, the captain's pupils suddenly contracted rapidly.

There was a dark object hanging above their heads. There seemed to be a timer on it, and numbers were jumping on the long screen.

He recognized it as his own organization's equipment, typical Mossad operational equipment.

What shocked him even more was that this thing was counting down...

"bomb!"

He let out a piercing scream.

"withdraw!"

The three of them turned and ran.

It's all too late.

Song Heping, hiding in the dark, had already cut the rope hanging the frozen fish with a dagger.

Tons of cutlassfish poured down like a silver-white waterfall. The closest agent was knocked to the ground and was instantly submerged by countless cutlassfish.

After the fish collapse, Song Heping flashed out from the darkness like a ghost.

Before the team member who had just climbed up could react, the Glock 17 was already against his head and the trigger was pulled.

Snapped--

The attacker swayed and fell to the ground like a broken sack.

When another team member, who had just crawled out of the pile of frozen fish, found that his companion was being attacked, he didn't bother to raise his gun and aim again. The distance between the two sides was too close, so he simply pounced on Song Heping and tried to knock him down.

Song Heping dodged and kicked the opponent, causing him to lose balance and fall to the ground. Before he could get up, a military boot stepped on him and landed directly on his throat.

click -

Before the unlucky guy could figure out what was happening, his throat was already crushed.

bang——

The last Mossad attacker used the moment his teammate's death had given him to raise his shotgun and fire a barrage of bullets at Song Heping. Song Heping rolled sideways, advancing instead of retreating, and the single-barreled bullet grazed the bulletproof plate, tearing open his flank muscles.

Taking advantage of the pain to sober up, he threw out the tactical scarf soaked in fish blood, wrapped it around the bald man's wrist, and smashed the butt of his MP5 into his nose.

Crack——

The Mossad soldier's nose was shattered, and the pain made tears come out of his eyes, and snot and blood spurted out of his nostrils.

Song Heping grabbed the shotgun, aimed it at the other man's head and pulled the trigger.

bang——

The single-barreled bullet shattered the opponent's face and sent him directly to see God.

Just when Song Heping wanted to collect ammunition, a figure appeared at the door again.

The bullets arrived before the people did.

clap clap clap-

clap clap-

The bullet hit the surrounding bulkheads and floor with a crisp sound.

Song Heping had no choice but to give up the idea of ​​collecting weapons.

Although he is in great need of this thing now.

The long and intense exchange of fire had almost exhausted his bullets and grenades, and now he was helpless without any resources.

There seems to be no hope of fighting again.

One minute later.

Song Heping had already escaped from the cabin and ran to the rear deck.

There are some empty containers piled there, probably still loaded with goods.

The box cast a jagged shadow in the moonlight, and Song Heping leaned against the cold steel plate and gasped.

The salty sea breeze wrapped in gunpowder smoke brushed across his tongue. He licked his cracked lips and tasted the rust of his own blood.

Checked the ammunition.

There are four bullets left in the last magazine of the MP5 submachine gun.

There were three rounds left in the Glock 17 magazine.

The remaining two pieces of C4 explosives were tied to my body, and the rest were used to blow up fish.

The penetrating wound on his right leg gushed out warm blood with every movement.

Song Heping put the Glock 17 back into the holster under his armpit and touched the last two fragmentation grenades on his waist with his fingertips - the blood scabs on the steel shell were peeling off.

A short command in Hebrew came from behind the oil drum thirty meters away, and the crisp sound of tactical boots breaking glass approached from three directions.

Song Heping tore off his blood-stained tactical scarf and tied it tightly around his thighs. The stench of rancid diesel mixed with the smell of blood rushed into his nostrils.

The searchlight on top of the container suddenly lit up, and the moment he rolled into the shadows, a 9mm bullet exploded at his feet, sending a string of sparks flying.

"Come on!" he roared and threw the grenade.

The shock wave of the explosion knocked over two tactical teams that were charging with shields. Amidst the flying metal fragments, Song Heping pounced on the nearest shelter like a cheetah.

The moment his left shoulder hit the concrete pier, he heard the crisp sound of his ribs breaking.

The moonlight was suddenly swallowed by dark clouds.

The metallic friction sound of a shotgun being loaded was heard at the twelve o'clock position, and Song Heping pulled out the carbon steel dagger tied to his calf with his backhand.

When the first black shadow broke through the smoke, he spun around along the barrel of the opponent's gun and stabbed the dagger accurately into the gap in the collar of the bulletproof vest.

Warm arterial blood splattered on his face. He grabbed the shotgun and pulled the trigger against the second enemy's jaw.

Skull fragments mixed with brain matter splattered all over the iron container.

kill!

kill!

kill!

Song Heping staggered backward, and due to exhaustion and injuries, he began to lose his balance.

His back quickly hit the wet container, and sticky liquid flowed down his neck into his collar. He wiped his face, and his palms were full of blood. He couldn't tell whether it was sweat, the enemy's blood, or his own.

But he felt no pain.

On the distant sea, the cargo ship's whistle tore through the night sky, but it could not cover up the roaring heartbeat in my ears.

The tanker truck in the front right suddenly exploded, and seven ghostly silhouettes appeared in the flames.

Song Heping reached for the ammunition rack on his chest, and his fingertips touched the fuse of the C4 explosives.

Perhaps the best option at this time is to rush over and join the other team in the road.

Captured?

There are no such words in my dictionary.

"boom!"

A dark shadow suddenly jumped out from the left.

Song Heping felt a sudden blow to his temple, his vision went dark, and he fell heavily to the ground where sewage was flowing.

(End of this chapter)