Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 930 Ambush in the Hamdaniya Valley (2)

These are all crazy people!

A true extremist fanatic!
Samir was acutely aware of the scum he was dealing with!
"Rocket launcher! Quick!"

He roared at the guards around him.

Several militiamen carrying RPG-7 rocket launchers immediately leaned out from behind their bunkers and fired rockets at the suicide truck.

whoosh-

whoosh-

Two rockets, trailing long fiery tails, hurtled toward the truck.

However, the suicide truck was too fast, and with the smoke and chaos of the battlefield in the valley and the cover of darkness, two rockets whistled past the rear of the truck, only exploding into two bursts of fire on the distant rock face.

"Damn it!"

Samir watched helplessly as the truck of death drew ever closer to the rocky shoal, the driver's numb yet fanatical face rapidly magnifying in his vision!
Despair gripped his heart like a cold, iron claw.

He knew very well what it would mean for tonight's operation if this 1515 armed unit escaped.

failure!

If this operation fails, it will not only cause the collapse of Song Heping's entire plan in Syria, but will also be a heavier blow to the local armed groups in Iligor.

Morale...

confidence……

everything……

Without these, what's left?
Thinking of this, Samir felt all his blood rush to his head, and he immediately went into a berserk state.

He abruptly threw down his binoculars, shoved aside a nearby rocket launcher operator who was frantically loading his weapon, and yelled, "Give it to me!"

He grabbed the RPG launcher at top speed and deftly inserted the rocket into it.

The cold metal pressed against my shoulder, carrying a heavy weight, as if something called "fate" was pressing down on my shoulder.

Sweat instantly soaked through his back.

Time seemed to stretch out infinitely, and the whole world consisted only of that crazy speeding truck and the narrow ramp.

The intense gunfire from both sides, the screams and cries of soldiers, the roar of engines... all the background noise disappeared.

Samir held his breath, his eyes fixed on the reticle in the sights, his muscles trembling slightly from extreme concentration.

He had to anticipate this!
You have to calculate that lead time of a fraction of a second!
The truck was speeding along, bumping and jolting, making it difficult to hit.

He forced himself to stay calm and steadily positioned the aiming line about one car length in front of the truck.

"Stay calm...stay calm..."

He silently recited the command, his fingers resting on the cold trigger, his knuckles turning white from the force.

Just as the truck was less than fifty meters from the ramp, and the outline of the explosives in the truck bed became clearly visible amidst the violent jolting—

"It's now!"

Samir roared inwardly, his fingers digging down hard!
whoosh-

The rocket, trailing a long plume of flame, roared as it left the launch tube like a venomous snake pouncing on its prey!
The immense recoil slammed into Samir's shoulder, causing his upper body to jolt violently.

He dropped the rocket launcher and stared intently at the deadly trajectory!
RPG rockets typically have a range of less than 300 meters. In fact, they become very difficult to control beyond 100 meters, as they are greatly affected by the surrounding environment.

Moreover, the missile's flight speed is very slow, subsonic, at approximately 290 meters per second.

Therefore, the shooter can clearly see the flight path during flight.

Less than a second felt like an eternity to Samir.

Everyone cheered when the rocket accurately penetrated under the slightly raised front of the suicide truck as it sped along!
“Allahu Akbar!”

God bless you!

boom--

boom--

A devastating explosion.

Moreover, there were two explosions in quick succession.

It was far more powerful than any previous artillery barrage!
The rocket-propelled grenade struck the vehicle and exploded, triggering a secondary explosion of ammunition inside the vehicle.

A huge fireball, crimson mixed with pale white, suddenly expanded and instantly engulfed the entire truck.

The violent shockwave, like an invisible giant hammer, spread wildly in all directions.

Two 1515 armed pickup trucks that were relatively close were overturned and torn apart like paper toys.

The scorching air currents, carrying burning metal fragments, tire debris, and human tissue, were violently ejected in a radial pattern.

Several huge rocks near the western slope were shaken loose and rolled down, hitting several 1515 militants who were unable to dodge in time. The screams and the cracking sounds of bones breaking were enough to make one's teeth ache.

The enormous explosion echoed and amplified repeatedly in the narrow valley, causing rocks to tumble down from the cliffs on both sides. Even the militiamen in the ambush position felt the ground beneath their feet tremble violently, their ears ringing and experiencing brief deafness.

Samir was thrown back a step by the blast wave, the scorching air hitting his face, carrying a strong smell of gunpowder and burnt flesh.

He steadied himself and looked at the death zone on the western slope, completely sealed off by flames and thick smoke, littered with burning debris, which blocked the last hope of escape for the 1515 armed group.

A feeling of exhaustion from surviving a disaster, mixed with a cold-blooded resolve, welled up inside me.

He grabbed the walkie-talkie, his voice like a cold block of iron slamming down:
"Initiate the final assault! Kill them all! Leave no one alive!"

The Hamdaniya Valley has been completely transformed into a boiling furnace and a grinding mill of flesh and blood.

The last escape route was blocked by the wreckage of the suicide truck and the rolling boulders. The hundreds of survivors of the 1515 armed force were completely compressed into the narrowest part of the valley, like trapped beasts caught in a snare.

The instinct for survival and extreme fanaticism mingled together, erupting into a hysterical counterattack.

"For Heaven! Slaughter all the heretics!"

Amidst desperate screams, groups of 1515 militants, their heads wrapped in black bandanas, charged like mad dogs driven to the brink of despair, using the burning wreckage of vehicles, armored car bodies, and rocks as cover, in a near-suicidal assault on the ambush positions on both sides of the hillside.

Bullets rained down on the hillside like water, sending sparks flying and mud flying everywhere.

RPG rockets, trailing plumes of flame, would occasionally hurtle in and explode near the ambush site, kicking up large amounts of dirt and rubble. Several militiamen screamed as they tumbled down from the heights.

On the ambush positions on both sides of the valley, the Iligo militia were equally bloodthirsty.

The initial fear had long been cast aside in the bloody battle, replaced by the flames of revenge and anger at the fallen comrades around them.

"To the left! Behind that truck! Machine gun!"

A militia squad leader, his face blackened by gunpowder smoke, leaving only the whites of his eyes and teeth, roared as his PKM general-purpose machine gun spat out long tongues of fire, mowing down a string of enemies who were trying to fire from the wreckage of a truck. Bullets struck the metal body, producing a dense clanging sound and the sharp whistling of ricochets.

"RPG! Cover me!"

Another militiaman, carrying a rocket launcher and under the cover of his comrades' fire, suddenly leaned out from behind the rocks and aimed at a 1515 armed truck below that was being fired at wildly by a heavy machine gun.

boom! ——

The rocket hit its mark precisely, turning the truck into a giant fireball, and the machine gun and its gunner were blown into the air.

But before he could even cheer, a bullet blew him in the head, and his body rolled down the hillside...

The battle entered its most brutal phase: close-quarters combat.

Both sides were completely bloodthirsty.

Here, there are only beasts, no humans!
Either you die or I die!
Some fearless 1515 members even braved a hail of bullets to charge up the gentler slopes and engage in close combat with the militia guarding the area.

The gleaming of bayonets, the chopping of entrenching tools, the muffled thud of stones smashing into skulls, the dying screams and frantic curses...

The most primal killings unfolded on every inch of the valley. Blood soaked the dry sand, forming dark red streams that flowed along the cracks in the rocks.

Qazar hid behind a relatively intact armored vehicle, an old Humvee M1114 assault vehicle that became his last stronghold.

The heavy machine guns on the armored vehicles were spitting out ammunition belts frantically, suppressing the firing points on the hillside and providing limited cover for the remaining soldiers.

Kazar leaned against the cold armor plates, panting heavily. Sweat and blood mixed together and flowed into his eyes, causing a stinging sensation.

The barrel of the AK in his hand was already scorching hot from firing.

The radio crackled with desperate cries for help and death screams from various local underlings.

"Boss! The east side can't hold out anymore!"

"The west side is full of people! We're surrounded!"

"God! Save us!"

Every sound was like a heavy hammer blow to Qazar's heart.

He looked around; the valley was filled with burning vehicle wreckage, dead bodies, and wounded writhing in agony.

The air was thick with the pungent smells of blood, gunpowder, and burnt flesh.

His carefully selected 800 elite troops, like ice and snow under the scorching sun, are melting away at a visible speed.

Fear, like a cold, venomous snake, finally coiled around his heart, leaving him icy cold and his fingers trembling uncontrollably.

The will of the Caliph, the glory of Heaven—all seem pale and laughable in the face of this hellish scene before us.

All he wanted was to live!

"Breakout! Move towards me! Everyone move towards me! Armored vehicles! Charge out! Charge out!"

Qajar screamed into the radio, his voice distorted by extreme fear and filled with hysterical despair.

He shoved the guards around him and tried to climb onto the machine gun turret on top of the armored vehicle, wanting to personally operate the heavy machine gun and fight his way out.

Just as half of his body peeked out from under the armored vehicle's roof—

"call out!"

A faint, yet deadly piercing shriek ripped through the air!

Qazar's body stiffened abruptly.

He looked down in disbelief and saw a small, inconspicuous hole in his chest that was rapidly being stained red and enlarged by gushing blood.

The power receded from my body like a receding tide.

He tried to look up to find the source of the bullet, but his vision began to blur, spin, and darken rapidly.

The last thing to catch his unfocused pupils was the indifferent sky above the valley, tinged with the grayish-yellow hue of gunpowder smoke.

Upon arrival, the 1515 chieftain who ruled Mosul collapsed limply, lying on the machine gun on the roof of the vehicle like a dead fish.

The leader's death was the final straw that broke the camel's back.

The 1515 militants, already on the verge of collapse, instantly lost their last shred of will to resist.

"Kazar is dead! The boss is dead!"

"Surrender! We surrender!"

"Don't kill me! Don't kill me!"

Cries of terror and despair, along with pleas for mercy, rose and fell. Some threw down their weapons and knelt on the ground with their hands raised; others scurried about in the valley like headless flies, only to be felled one by one by the accurately fired bullets.

Samir stood at the high command post, his telescope sweeping across the devastated, gradually calming valley.

The first light of dawn was already appearing on the horizon.

The valley was filled with corpses, twisted remains, and wisps of black smoke.

Only after confirming that the last remaining 1515 firing point had been eliminated did he slowly lower his binoculars.

His nerves, which had been tense for hours, suddenly relaxed, and a wave of immense fatigue washed over him, almost making him lose his balance.

Sweat had already soaked through his camouflage uniform, clinging coldly to his back.

He raised his hand and wiped his face, his palm covered in gunpowder smoke, sweat, and tiny specks of blood that had splattered on it sometime during the night.

The strong smell of blood filled his nostrils, making his stomach churn.

"vomit--"

He couldn't help but bend over and vomit.

Victory.

Eight hundred notorious extremists, along with their leaders, were completely buried in the Hamdaniya Valley.

This was a resounding victory that shook the entire northern part of Iligo.

Samir slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, thick with the smell of gunpowder, trying to suppress the heavy, unspeakable burden in his heart.

Just as he stood up, preparing to order the cleanup of the battlefield and the gathering of the wounded—

buzzing-

His encrypted satellite phone suddenly started vibrating rapidly.

(End of this chapter)