Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 983 It's Better to Fight Than Wait for Death
"Abandon the vehicle! Everyone! Take all available water, food, weapons, and ammunition! Seriously wounded..."

Song Heping's gaze swept over everyone, his eyes filled with a hint of reluctance.

What should be done with seriously wounded soldiers?

The medic nicknamed "Doctor" in the special operations platoon swallowed hard and squeezed out the question through gritted teeth.

"Lift!" Song Heping said decisively. "Use stretchers! Remove the doors! Remove the canopy! Remove everything that can be used as a stretcher! Have a shift work to carry them! The rest of you, protect the flanks! Our target is that wind-eroded rock area to the south! Hurry! Get moving!"

His roar was like thunder, instantly waking everyone who had been numbed by the heat and despair.

The instinct to survive overcame exhaustion.

The soldiers mustered their last strength, frantically unloading everything useful from the truck and roughly dismantling the doors and canvas tarpaulins to make makeshift stretchers.

The groaning, seriously wounded soldier was carefully lifted onto a stretcher. The lightly wounded soldier gritted his teeth and gripped his rifle tightly.

Song Heping took one last look at the twelve disabled trucks, which would soon be reduced to scrap metal and road signs under the scorching Sahara sun, guiding the pursuers in the right direction.

It's easy to imagine that Ms. M and her men, now sitting in the operations room on the Q floor of a building by the Thames in London, would order the SBS special forces and GNA armed forces to spare no effort to keep their lives in Lebia.

The number of pursuers behind them is probably not in the thousands, but in the tens of thousands.

Anyone would probably have collapsed by now at this point.
Some heroes would shoot themselves in the temple to die rather than be humiliated.

The cowardly ones were probably already prepared to surrender, begging Ms. M for a way out.

But Song Heping is neither of the two types of people mentioned above.

The more desperate the situation, the more determined he became.

By nature, I like to fight against fate.

Fight against fate.

Just like when he returned home after being discharged from the army, his father passed away, the family was destitute, and he had to support his younger brother and sister.

To make a living, they went to the war zone of Iligoro.

Isn't it just about defying fate?

At this moment, Song Heping's innate fighting spirit was once again ignited.

Never give up!
I refuse to admit defeat!
Fight to the very end!
Even if we die, we must die on the road to victory.

This is the true man's carefree life!
"Boss, even if we don't abandon any of the wounded, I'm afraid we won't be able to cross this desert..."

Even a half-mute person like the Calamity Star, who is usually sparing with words and acts decisively without wasting time, couldn't help but express his concerns at this moment.

"They have sufficient logistical support, water, food, and ammunition... We..."

"Don't question my decision." Song Heping left no room for argument for the jinx: "What I need now is absolute obedience and absolute execution! Jinx, we're old buddies now, but remember, don't question my decisions at times like this in the future, don't waste my time!"

Song Heping pointed south.

“I remember there would be an oasis about 40 kilometers from this direction.”

"That's right!"

Haftar's eyes lit up.

"It's the Kurtan Oasis!"

"Yes, this desert isn't impossible to cross; it's possible. Once we reach the oasis, we can replenish our water supply and even find some food!"

Song Heping firmly believes in his choice.

Seeing Haftar's slightly doubtful look, Song Heping teased, "What are you worried about?"

“Worried…” Haftar looked around: “Ammunition…we’re almost out of ammunition.”

"You've read 'On Protracted War' many times, but you haven't grasped its essence," Song Heping joked. "During the War of Resistance Against Japan, the guerrilla forces led by the great man were at a disadvantage in both numbers and equipment. Guess where they got their ammunition?"

"Self-reliance..." Haftar gave his answer like a hesitant schoolchild, afraid that he might have said something wrong.

"You're only half right." Song Heping chuckled and hummed a song: "No guns, no cannons, the enemy delivered themselves to our door..."

After saying that, he no longer hesitated, picked up the HK417, and pointed to the wind-eroded rock formations in the south that were faintly visible in the heat wave, resembling the fangs of a monster.

"Listen to my command, let's go!"

This exhausted team, having abandoned its last means of mobility, plunged headlong into the vast desert like desperate lemmings migrating in the desert, embarking on a bloody trek towards that distant glimmer of hope.

Behind me, the roar of the engine, like the grim groan of death, grew ever closer.

after an hour.

The scorching winds of the Sahara Desert, carrying choking sand, scraped across Song Heping's chapped cheeks like knives.

He knelt in the shadow of the wind-eroded rock area, listening to the heavy, suppressed breathing of the "Calamity" squad members and the painful groans of the wounded soldiers that they could not completely suppress.

The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, blood, and an even stronger odor—despair.

General Haftar's last hundred or so soldiers, like withered grass ravaged by a storm, huddled among the ruins, their eyes vacant, clinging to life only by the instinct for survival. "Boss, we're out of water..."

A hoarse voice sounded behind Song Heping. It was "the jinx." His lips were split open with several bloody cuts, and his fingers were weakly tapping the empty kettle.

Song Heping didn't turn around. His gaze swept across the open field ahead, which was distorted by the scorching sun—the only way to the south and to North Darfur.

Several burning truck wrecks lay overturned on the roadside, black plumes of smoke rising straight into the dim yellow sky.

He licked his equally chapped lips, his throat burning.

"You stay behind with two squads of the special operations platoon, and the rest of you will be under the command of the hunter to escort the wounded through the wind-eroded rock area and head south."

As he spoke, Song Heping turned to Haftar.

"General, your wounded soldiers, with the assistance of those with minor injuries, should follow my men. How many of the rest are still capable of fighting?"

“More than 140 people…” Haftar had already done the count: “There’s about a company.”

After stating the number, he suddenly felt a surge of sorrow from the bottom of his heart.

Previously, he had more than 8,000 soldiers under his command.

Overnight, half of them betrayed.

The rest either died in the desert city last night or were scattered and escaped to who knows where under the cover of night.

Life is sometimes really like gambling.

Sometimes, you can empty your pockets overnight.

"These 140-plus people will stay and I'll be in charge of them all," Song Heping announced his decision, then asked, "Is this feasible?"

"Sure...of course..."

Haftar gave a wry smile.

What's a hundred-plus people?

Although this was all that was left of his possessions.

What's the use of keeping it in your own hands?

It would be better to hand it over to Song Heping and let him take command, leading everyone to fight with all their might.

If we suffer a crushing defeat, the worst that can happen is death.

Haftar, a tough guy indeed, turned to his men and gritted his teeth, saying, "From this moment on, Song is our absolute commander. Everyone, including myself, must obey his leadership. Anyone who thinks there's a problem can leave now and surrender to the GNA!"

No one said a word.

After all, that question is redundant.

It was merely a statement by Haftar.

The conflict between Haftar's men and the GNA militants is not merely a matter of differing ideologies and stances; it is a blood feud built up over the past year of friction and mutual slaughter.

Surrender to your enemy?

I'd rather be dead!
After confirming that his men were determined to pursue him to the death, Haftar turned to Song Heping and asked, "What do you plan to do?"

"there."

Song Heping pointed.

"It's the only way the pursuers will pass. I've said it before, without guns, cannons, or ammunition, the enemy will deliver themselves to us."

He grinned as he said this.

"They will still have water and food on them."

Haftar seemed to understand something, paused for a moment, and then nodded repeatedly.

"Yes, yes! That's right!"

Song Heping said, "The ones sticking to us now are definitely not the main GNA force. They are the first SBS special forces team that chased us out of the city after our clash in the desert last night, along with some GNA armed members. I estimate there are also some of your rebels. I estimate there are about a thousand of them. Because entering the desert requires a lot of logistical supplies, it would take two or three days for thousands or even tens of thousands of people to collectively enter the desert to hunt us down. We need water and food, and so do they. The desert has given us a challenge, and their challenge is the same!"

He reached out and patted Haftar hard on the shoulder.

"To learn 'On Protracted War,' you must learn its military essence, which is guerrilla warfare strategy, understand?"

"understand……"

Haftar seemed to understand, but not quite.

Song Heping didn't have time to teach him, so he waved his hand dismissively.

"Execute the plan! Follow me!"

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(End of this chapter)