Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 922 A crushing defeat

"Understood! Let's proceed!"

Utkin's roar sounded particularly shrill in the narrow radio channel, instantly drowning out the howling wind among the dunes.

Before he finished speaking, he was like a leopard poised to pounce. He suddenly pulled open the heavy hatch and nimbly slipped into the driver's compartment of the BMP-97 infantry fighting vehicle, which was filled with the smell of engine oil and metal.

Without pausing for a moment, he precisely turned the key while simultaneously slamming down the start pedal.

Buzz—Boom!

A deep and powerful roar suddenly tore through the silence of the desert, as if a giant beast sleeping underground had been awakened.

The BMP-97's powerful eight-cylinder diesel engine trembled violently, spewing out a thick plume of black smoke from its exhaust pipe, which was quickly torn apart and dissipated by the gale.

The heavy steel body of this light armored personnel carrier seemed to be infused with a violent life force, and the gravel under the tracks began to jump restlessly.

Almost at the same second that the engine roared to life, the circular hatch on top of the turret was slammed open.

Jiang Feng quickly got into position, gripping the control lever of the 12.7mm heavy machine gun. The coolness of the metal seeped through his gloves, and a murderous intent surged into his mind like a gushing spring.

He skillfully pulled the bolt, producing a crisp metallic clang, and the thick, golden ammunition belt slid along, loading a large-caliber machine gun bullet into the chamber, ready to fire.

Inside the car, Song Heping had already put away the SVD sniper rifle, picked up his AK-12 assault rifle again, opened the upper passenger window, and set up the barrel.

"Brothers, hold on tight!"

Sergei's voice echoed through the metal walls of the vehicle: "Three, two, one—take down these bastards!"

"Dry!"

Boom!

The massive BMP-97 seemed to break free of invisible shackles, its wheels kicking up huge amounts of yellow sand as it roared out from behind the hidden sand dunes.

Meanwhile, at the heart of the chaotic convoy of 1515 armed pickup trucks, the air was thick with the acrid smells of blood, gunpowder, and fear.

The deputy commander of the "Storm" squad, Abuzari, was kneeling on the scorching sand, his hands pressed tightly against Ibrahim's chest, which was gushing warm liquid.

His fingers, cuffs, and even half of his arm were soaked in thick, dark red blood, which quickly became sticky and black under the high temperature.

That damn bullet!
It was as precise as a javelin thrown by Death himself, entering from the side and easily tearing through Ibrahim's tactical vest, a symbol of his status and laden with ammunition belts. It pierced through his strong chest and emerged from his back, leaving only a horrifying, bloody hole the size of a baby's fist.

The wound that ran through him was like a merciless funnel, draining the life force of this fierce warrior at an alarming rate.

Each futile press caused more blood and foam to gush uncontrollably from Ibrahim's mouth and nose, making a heart-wrenching "whoosh...whoosh..." sound, like a broken bellows.

Rapid blood loss had filled his chest cavity with fluid, and each weak breath felt like he was drowning.

Ibrahim's once sharp, hawk-like eyes were now filled with only murky pain and immense fear of death. He stared intently at Abu Zari, his lips moving, but he could only spit out bloody foam.

"Hold on! Commander! God be with you, hold on!"

Abuzari screamed hoarsely, his voice distorted by extreme fear and despair.

He frantically tried to use the torn headscarf to plug the two fatal holes, but the blood instantly soaked through it, turning it into a useless wet cloth.

He felt Ibrahim's body growing colder and colder in his hands, the flame of life irreversibly dying out.

The surrounding militants were like hornets whose nest had been disturbed. Some fired wildly in suspicious directions, some tried to turn the pickup truck around to use it as cover, and some were completely gripped by fear and stood frozen in place.

The breakdown of the command chain turned this notoriously fierce team into a disorganized mess in an instant.

Just as Abu Zari was being driven to despair by the hellish scene and the futile rescue efforts, his mind going blank, a scream filled with extreme terror rang out beside him: "Sir! Look over there! What... what the hell is that?!"

Abu Zari suddenly looked up, following the direction of his subordinate's trembling fingers that could barely hold the gun. For a moment, time seemed to freeze.

His pupils contracted to pinpoints in utter terror, reflecting the grotesque silhouette of death emerging from the swirling dust.

A BMP-97 infantry fighting vehicle painted in sandy yellow camouflage charged toward the chaotic center of the scene like a raging beast.

The roar of the tracks crushing the ground finally pierced through the chaotic noise, striking the heart of everyone like the drums of death!

“Enemy attack—!!!”

Abu Dhali let out a tearing howl that nearly snapped his vocal cords.

"It's an ambush! There's an ambush behind us! Find cover!!!"

At that moment, he finally understood completely.

The bullet that just took Ibrahim's life wasn't some damned stray bullet at all! It was a meticulously planned sniper shot!

That was a precise and insidious decapitation by the enemy!
And they, this group of 1515 members known for their brutality and strength, unwittingly walked headlong into a death trap carefully laid by the enemy.

He wanted to slap himself hard across the face.

However, it was too late.

"Hahaha! Go to hell, you filthy maggots!"

When the BMP-97 troop carrier came within 500 meters, Jiang Feng, who was operating the heavy machine gun on the roof, pressed the trigger of the heavy machine gun heavily.

Thump thump thump thump—! ! !
Thump thump thump thump—! ! !
A terrifying storm with a 12.7 mm caliber descended instantly!
The dull yet penetrating bursts of fire were no longer simple gunshots, but the roar of death, the thunderous sound of hell's furnace opening its gates.

The thick shell casings, like a golden waterfall, clattered and piled up quickly on the metal floor inside the turret, carrying a scorching heat.

The scorching flames spewing from the muzzle were half a meter long, sounding like the breath of a demon amidst the billowing dust.

The hail of bullets emitted a sharp, piercing whistle as they rained down on the group of pickup trucks surrounding Ibrahim's body at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye!

Boom——

The first vehicle to receive special attention was a pickup truck piled high with rockets and ammunition.

A 12.7mm armor-piercing incendiary round precisely penetrated the open ammunition box, triggering a catastrophic secondary explosion.

An orange-red fireball shot into the sky with a deafening roar, and the scorching air and deadly shockwave spread out in a spherical shape, instantly tearing the entire pickup truck into countless burning and twisted fragments.

Several "Storm" members who were hiding in panic behind the car didn't even have time to scream before they were violently thrown into the air like rag dolls, and then engulfed and dismembered by flames in the next second.

Abuzari felt an irresistible, scalding force slam into his back, as if he had been hit by an invisible battering ram.

He was lifted off the ground, everything went black, and all he could hear was a piercing, unbearable buzzing sound.

A few seconds later, he crashed heavily onto the scorching sand.

He struggled, trying with all his might to prop himself up, his vision blurred and swaying from the violent shaking.

The whole world seemed distorted, becoming so unreal.

Abuzari felt as if his soul had been shaken out of his body, and his limbs seemed to be out of his control.

When he finally managed to lift his head, the sight reflected in his pupils made him feel as if he had fallen into an ice cave—

The BMP-97 had already arrived, stopping just over ten meters away...

(End of this chapter)