Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 878 Kandar's Panic
Location of MLC Command Post.

It's 5:30 in the morning.

boom--

A 60mm mortar shell landed in the camp, collapsing one of the tents.

"Artillery bombardment—!"

The sudden scream shattered the tranquility.

Two cooks who were setting up a fire in the middle of the camp to prepare breakfast were so frightened that they dropped the already gutted and cleaned sheep in their hands and began to run away with their heads covered.

boom--

Before the screams could even finish, another mortar shell exploded in the camp.

The shockwave from the explosion ripped off the canvas roof of the command post. As Colonel Kandar was tackled to the ground by two guards who rushed in, his most beloved mistress was huddled in a corner, her bright red nail polished fingers clutching her hair, letting out a piercing scream.

"Sir! Enemy spotted on the east flank."

The communications soldier's report was interrupted by the sound of another rocket exploding. The lights in the tent flickered, casting distorted shadows of everyone onto the violently shaking canvas.

Kandar struggled to his feet, his uniform lapels stained with spilled coffee.

He snatched the satellite phone from his mistress's hand, his knuckles turning white from the force.

The screen displayed encrypted intelligence received a dozen minutes earlier—a warning forwarded to him by Major Jensen regarding the involvement of the "Musician" defense company in the war.

"You son of a bitch!"

He cursed through gritted teeth, his fingers flying across the number keys.

Another burst of bullets pierced the tent, shattering the whiskey bottle on the table, and glass shards scattered like diamonds across the battle map.

The electronic voice that answered the phone sounded like heavenly music at that moment.

"Jansen! I fucking need backup! Now! Immediately!"

Kandar's roar drowned out the intermittent gunfire.

He bent over and half-crouched on the ground like a lost dog, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead onto the satellite phone's keypad.

"The government forces' counter-offensive is a ruse! Their real target is—"

A sharp whistling sound suddenly pierced the air.

Candar instinctively fell to the ground, watching helplessly as a two-meter-diameter hole was blasted open on the west side of the tent.

The morning sunlight pierced through the smoke and into the tent, illuminating the documents scattered on the ground and the bullet-pierced "Infantry Tactics Manual"—a gift from the American military advisors last year.

"Kandal? Speak!"

Jason's voice came through the receiver, tinged with obvious impatience.

The colonel's gaze suddenly froze.

Through the hole in the tent, he saw a flash of light on the sand dune three hundred meters away—the cold flame of a sniper scope in the moonlight.

Even more terrifying, several firing positions could be vaguely seen behind the sand dunes, their muzzle flashes still dazzling even in the morning sunlight.

They are here.

Kandar's voice suddenly became hoarse, and his hand holding the phone began to tremble uncontrollably. "That Chinese man, Song Heping's man... he's one of theirs! He's already infiltrated behind enemy lines!"

The sound of papers turning over came from the other end of the phone; Jason seemed to be looking at some documents.

"Calm down, Colonel. My drones haven't detected any large-scale troop movements by government forces."

"Fuck your drones!"

Kandar suddenly flew into a rage and kicked over the ammunition box next to him.

"Listen, Jason! My command post is under attack by special forces! They've picked off my sentries with silenced weapons and located all the machine gun positions with thermal imagers!"

A bullet suddenly grazed his ear and left a smoking bullet hole in the bulletproof plate behind him.

"—Damn! They've surrounded my command post!"

Outside the tent, the screams of MLC soldiers dying echoed one after another.

Looking through the ripped canvas, he saw two of his men running wildly across the open ground with guns in hand, seemingly trying to reach the perimeter of the camp to reinforce the breached defenses.

But they hadn't run far when countless small clouds of dust and mud kicked up at their feet, and a cloud of blood mist spread from their bodies as they crashed into a ditch by the roadside like an out-of-control car.

Candal felt a chill run down his spine—the gunfire was coming from all directions, as if there were enemy firing positions everywhere.

"Marlo! Marlo!"

He shouted the name of his guard company commander.

"I'm here!"

Kandar's trusted lieutenant, Maro, scrambled in from the other end of the tent and crawled to his side like a dog.

"Colonel, we've been ambushed! It's a tactical trap! The massive retreat of government troops an hour ago was intentional! Our main force is ahead, leaving our rear vulnerable; they're targeting you!"

“I know!” Candall wasn’t concerned about that right now. He grabbed Marlowe by the collar and asked, “How many men do we have?! Tell them not to panic, to organize themselves, build a defensive line, and hold on! American reinforcements will be here soon!”

"I don't know how many people are left!" Maro was telling the truth. The attack was too sudden, and the entire group was in chaos. Everyone was waiting in the camp for breakfast when they were suddenly attacked from all sides by the enemy.

The gunfire outside continued unabated.

Kandar listened intently for a while.

"They won't be able to break through anytime soon! Go and take command of the guard company to defend. Don't launch any attacks rashly. Secure advantageous positions around the camp and fight back against those sons of bitches. Don't let them in!"

He almost blurted out, "Don't let them in and find me."

After all, that would make you seem like a coward.

"Yes!"

Ma Luo gritted his teeth, nodded, and climbed out.

Kandal, hiding behind an ammunition box, yelled into the satellite phone, "Jansen, did you hear me?! You'd better come save me right now! Otherwise, if I'm finished, your whole plan will be ruined. Without me, the Rebel Alliance will fall apart and disintegrate!"

His tone was laced with a hint of threat.

After all, Kandal was well aware of his identity and his importance.

If Americans want to use rebels to overthrow the current government, they have to help themselves.

MLC is the strongest of all the rebel alliances, and it is able to organize many other small groups because of its prestige and strength.

If I die.

Then the entire resistance alliance would fall apart.

He knew these rebel leaders very well.

They're all cowards who fear power but not morality.

Once I die, they probably won't even bother to overthrow the current government; they'll immediately and without hesitation divide up my estate—weapons, money, and soldiers.

“Hold on.”

Jason's voice finally turned serious.

"My squad will arrive within thirty minutes."

Thirty minutes?

Candall became somewhat hysterical.

His fear of death made his voice somewhat distorted.

"By then, all you'll be doing is collecting my corpse!"

He abruptly slammed down the phone and turned to the terrified communications soldier: "Notify all frontline troops to return to reinforce! Immediately! Right now!"

The communications soldier's fingers flew across the keyboard, then suddenly froze. He then peeked out of the tent at the communications antenna.

He slowly raised his head, his face paler than a corpse: "Sir, our radio antenna has been destroyed. Their artillery fire was extremely accurate."

"Damn it!"

Candall finally understood.

This was not an ordinary raid behind enemy lines, but a meticulously planned decapitation strike.

He frantically pulled out the satellite phone again.

Fortunately, all the rebel leaders had satellite phones, a gift from the Americans.

It seems that my old radios are no match for satellite phones; in critical moments, we still have to rely on high technology.

Just as Colonel Candall was desperately trying to contact his own and his allies' troops to retreat, about 3 kilometers north of the Gugra Canyon, a convoy of Humvees in green caps kicked up thick yellow dust in the wild, looking like a moving earth dragon from a distance.

Major Jason tossed the encrypted phone to McCarthy in the co-pilot's seat, his face so dark it could drip water.

“How’s it going with Kandal? We’ll be at their camp in twenty minutes,” McCarthy said.

"That idiot Kandar was terrified, howling and screaming like a donkey whose backside has been whipped raw."

He glanced out the car window, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "He said Song Heping's men are skinning him alive."

McCarthy examined the ammunition in his M320 grenade launcher: "Intelligence indicates that the main force of 'Musician' defenses should be on the Lumar front. The people who attacked Kandal shouldn't be from 'Musician's' defenses."

"I'd also like to know who attacked their command post."

Jason raised his hand and wiped his face hard.

"That guy actually sent a distress call to those old men in the White House, and those guys contacted the Pentagon to put pressure on us. That bastard really knows how to use his connections."

He glanced at the GPS screen, then instructed the driver, "Take the canyon shortcut. I need to see Kandar's terrified, stupid face within twenty minutes."

The convoy roared into the narrowest part of the canyon, the sound of tires crushing the gravel echoing eerily between the rock walls.

Unbeknownst to Jason, just two hundred meters ahead in a crevice in the rocks, a figure draped in desert camouflage netting was slowly lowering binoculars and whispering into his earpiece:

"The guests are seated, we can serve the food now."

In the shadows deep within the canyon, the red dots of more than a dozen infrared sights lit up simultaneously, like a swarm of awakened vampire bats opening their eyes.

(End of this chapter)