Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 880 The Green-Hat's Desperate Gamble

"Cover fire!"

Jason's roar echoed through the canyon, his voice filled with a desperate, all-or-nothing resolve. He suddenly emerged halfway out from behind the rubble cover, the butt of his M4A1 carbine against his shoulder, and began firing wildly toward the cliff top.

Shell casings rained off from the ejection port, clanging against the rocks.

The remaining six Green Beret members seemed to have been injected with the same madness. They simultaneously stepped out from behind cover, completely disregarding their own safety, and unleashed ammunition at every suspicious firing point in all directions.

At this moment, these elite special forces soldiers unleashed astonishing combat power.

"For the Brotherhood!"

A sergeant, his face covered in blood, roared as he fired a series of bursts from his Mk14 EBR marksman rifle. The 7.62mm bullets precisely embedded themselves in the rock crevice, striking an elite mercenary from "Musician" Defense who was hiding behind a mound of earth.

Beside him, Corporal Wilson knelt on one knee, and the M320 grenade launcher emitted a dull "bang," as the 40mm high-explosive rounds traced a perfect arc.

On the cliff top, the sniper codenamed "Hunter" had just locked onto the communications soldier carrying a radio, the crosshairs in his scope firmly circling the man's back.

His index finger was already on the trigger; just a little more force would have ended the life.

Just as they were about to fire, an unexpected event occurred.

boom!
An M433 grenade exploded less than four meters away from him.

The shockwave made his eardrums ache, and shrapnel whizzed past his camouflage suit, carving dozens of craters of varying depths into the granite behind him.

"FUCK!"

The hunter groaned as a sharp pain shot through his left arm.

He looked down and saw a piece of shrapnel the size of a fingernail deeply embedded in his deltoid muscle, blood rapidly soaking through his camouflage uniform.

To make matters worse, the dust kicked up by the explosion completely obscured his vision.

Almost the instant he retreated into cover, a second grenade struck his original sniping position with pinpoint accuracy.

The overpressure generated by the explosion made the hunter feel his internal organs tremble.

"These lunatics are courting death!"

The hunter shouted into the tactical channel while quickly checking the wound. The shrapnel wasn't deep, but it needed immediate treatment.

He gritted his teeth, pulled out the shrapnel, and casually sprayed on some hemostatic gel, his movements as fast as if he were oiling a weapon.

The green-hatted team members in the canyon are indeed fighting desperately.

These veterans, who have experienced countless battles, know very well that at this moment, the only way to survive is to put themselves in a do-or-die situation.

They took turns providing cover and firing with precision, each shot accompanied by the scream of a "musician" mercenary.

The initially one-sided firepower offensive was temporarily suppressed by their frantic counterattack.

"Stop that communications soldier!"

Song Heping's voice came through the earpiece, unusually tinged with a sense of urgency. He squinted, watching the communications soldier who was carrying a 30-kilogram radio yet still moving with incredible agility.

It must be admitted that the combat skills of these American special forces soldiers are admirable. Their courage and professionalism displayed in dire circumstances are exemplary.

Signalman Ross felt like his lungs were on fire.

His tactical vest was soaked with sweat, and the radio on his back felt like a branding iron rubbing against his back.

But the instinct for survival drove him to keep sprinting forward, with gravel flying everywhere beneath his feet.

If we could reach that protruding granite slab and climb up it, we might be able to catch a faint satellite signal.
"Protect Rose with all your might!"

Jason changed to a new magazine and rolled to the side of the Hummer wreckage.

He knelt on one knee and fired consecutive bursts in a standard "kneeling, unsupported" shooting posture.

The 5.56mm bullet accurately pierced through a crevice in the rock two hundred meters away, knocking a mercenary who had just poked his head out backward.

The firepower of the entire special operations platoon was temporarily suppressed.

Although these mercenaries were well-trained, they hesitated for a moment when faced with the Green Berets' desperate counterattack.

Those few seconds of hesitation allowed Ross to surge forward another ten meters.

Song Heping's pupils contracted slightly.

He slipped out of cover like a desert viper, firing three bursts of AKM assault rifle as he ran. The 7.62mm bullets kicked up a cloud of dust at Ross's feet, but were all deflected by precise cover fire and missed their targets.

"Those who come from the South American training camp ultimately fall short."

Song Heping sighed inwardly.

He leaped to a new firing position and quickly changed magazines.

We must now solve this problem ourselves—if the communication signal is allowed to be transmitted, the entire plan will be ruined.

At the bottom of the canyon, Jason's brain was working at lightning speed.

He noticed that Song Heping's snipers began to consciously let the other team members go, concentrating all their firepower on Ross.

This is a dangerous sign—the enemy has clearly seen through their intentions.

"McCarthy!"

Jensen gestured to his adjutant, "Execute 'Phoenix' contingency plan!"

McCarthy's expression changed drastically, but he quickly understood his superior's intention.

He nodded emphatically and took the last two M18 smoke grenades from his tactical vest.

"For honor!"

He roared, pulled back the safety pin, and threw it in the opposite direction.

Thick, colorful smoke instantly obscured half of the canyon.

Under the cover of smoke, Jason and McCarthy quietly retreated to the last Hummer that was still running.

This seemingly suicidal breakout plan was actually a meticulously designed feint—using Ross to draw fire and create an opportunity for the real breakout.

These green-hatted men, at the critical moment, completely disregarded their own lives, trying to create a final chance for their teammates to survive.

"Now!"

Jason slammed his fist on the cockpit partition. McCarthy floored the accelerator, and the Hummer's diesel engine roared in a death throes.

The M2HB heavy machine gun on the roof of the vehicle fired wildly, 12.7mm bullets sparking a series of sparks on the rock face.

Song Heping frowned slightly on the rock face.

Green Beetle's performance today completely exceeded his expectations.

Unlike previous encounters with top U.S. special forces, this was different.

These guys in the valley have really impressed me today, and I even feel a bit of respect for them.

"A salvo of grenades."

He gave the order briefly, his voice chillingly calm.

"Throw all the grenades blindly into the valley!"

After being reminded by Song Heping, everyone immediately retreated behind the cliff and began firing wildly into the valley using grenade launchers. Those without grenade launchers pulled out hand grenades and threw them into the valley.

A Mk19 automatic grenade launcher placed not far from the cliff face in the valley by the special operations platoon began firing wildly.

This terrifying weapon, with a rate of fire of 325 rounds per minute, unleashed more than a dozen 40mm high-explosive grenades in 10 seconds, creating a deathly barrage around the Humvee.

One of the shots hit the hood directly, and the armor-piercing warhead penetrated the armor protection.

The Hummer, having lost power, resembled a wounded beast, sliding for dozens of meters before flipping over on its side.

Jason and McCarthy scrambled out of the wreckage, only to find themselves a hundred meters from the canyon exit—but those final hundred meters were destined to be a path to death.

"Song!"

McCarthy suddenly shouted in Chinese with a Texas accent, his voice echoing through the canyon.

"You're a fucking coward hiding in the shadows! Dare to come out and fight me one-on-one like a real warrior?"

His answer was a gunshot.

McCarthy suddenly had a perfect blood hole between his eyebrows. The impact of the 7.62 caliber bullet carried his body half a meter away, and his brains splattered on Jason's face.

(End of this chapter)