Xiaomi Heavy Industry, its first entrepreneurial venture!

Chapter 515 Survival First! (Third Update!)

Upon seeing this, the al-Qaeda members on the speedboat all turned their attention to their leader, Muhara.

Muhara, too, felt a chill run down his spine at that moment.

The cargo ship was moored in a really awkward spot, about 400 or 500 meters from the shore.

The bank is a flat sandbar carved out by a seasonal river over the years, with mountains on both sides. However, the side of the mountains facing the sea has not many shrubs and cannot provide shelter. You have to climb the mountain and go deep into the mountains to get there.

There are houses deep in the flat valley, but they are at least 1 kilometer away from the shore.

If they want to get ashore, they need to run four or five hundred meters along the water and one kilometer along the shore in a very short time.

But the Apache helicopters in the sky couldn't possibly see that; they were armed helicopters, carrying rocket pods, heavy machine guns, and cannons.

A few hundred meters above the sea, a heavy machine gun could turn them into sieves, let alone run ashore, climb mountains, or into civilian houses.

Moreover, even if they enter a private house, it doesn't mean they can rest easy.

Because these two Apaches, and the Black Hawk behind them, belong to America.

America has absolutely no patience for this group of people. The most likely scenario is that no sooner will they run into a house than an Apache attack helicopter will fire a rocket.

After the rockets were fired, the Black Hawk helicopter landed, and the special forces team on board cleaned up the scene, put all the bodies together, and took photos.

After taking the photos, we boarded the helicopter and went back to publish the news.

America's escort fleet in the Gulf of Aden successfully killed a group of pirates and protected the safety of the ships.

As for the rest, they're not important!
The only way to survive now is to get on the ship, climb onto this ship, and use the people on this ship to confront these damned American people.

And they also had to shoot videos as soon as possible and find a way to upload them.

As long as the video gets out, and as long as the Americans still want their reputation, these people will survive!

Having figured all this out, Muhara grabbed the rope ladder placed at the bow of the ship with both hands, threw it forcefully, and the hook of the rope ladder flew into the air and hung steadily on the cargo ship's railing.

After a couple of tugs, he was the first to climb up: "Hurry up, climb up! Get on the boat!"

"Otherwise, they'll all die!"

He climbed up, and the al-Qaeda members behind him quickly followed suit. In less than two minutes, all the al-Qaeda members on the speedboats had climbed onto the ship and managed to hide in the cargo ship's containers before the armed helicopters began their attack.

After taking refuge in the cabin, Muhara, who had survived the ordeal, smiled and then stuck the barrel of his gun out of the cabin door, firing a burst of bullets at the armed helicopter.

After firing a burst of bullets, he arrogantly shouted outside:

"If you don't want all the crew members on this ship to be killed, then get out of here right now!"

"If I wait even a minute, I'll kill someone!"

Having issued his threat, Muhara took a deep breath, his hands trembling as he loaded the magazine into his gun, chambered a round, and led the men around him deeper into the cabin.

As he walked, he let out a sharp, eerie laugh: "Where are you all hiding?"

"I've come to find you!"

His smile vanished completely once he entered the ship's control tower.

The floor of the ship's conning tower was littered with spent bullet casings, shattered glass windows, and a completely destroyed control panel.

The ship's control console facilities have been completely destroyed. To move it, it would require major repairs, ordering, delivery, and maintenance, which would take at least two months.

Picking up a 7.62×51 bullet casing from the ground, Muhara felt a sense of foreboding. He turned around and shouted to the crew behind him, "Immediately, search the cabins and see if anyone is there!"

After shouting, he was the first to run out of the command platform and head down to the lower deck of the ship.

People are brought aboard because there is a way to survive on board, but if there is no one on board and the ship cannot be started, it means that they have no way to survive.

They were frantically searching for the people on the ship, while helicopters in the sky were also searching for them.

"Obsidian 1 calling. Those guys went into the command center, but they've left now. Shall we launch an attack?"

"Obsidian 2 calling, bow position is safe, no terrorists in sight, you may land."

"Obsidian 3 calling, we are preparing to land at the bow position, please provide cover!"

"This is Farragut. Do not board the ship for now. Remain vigilant and check if any hostages are still alive. If no hostages are alive, attack with rockets immediately!"

Obsidian No. 1 received!

Obsidian No. 2 received!

Obsidian No. 3 received!

As the helicopter pilots responded, the three helicopters slowly increased their distance from the ship, forming a triangle at a safe altitude, providing a commanding view of the ship's condition.

Meanwhile, to the north of the ship, on a hilltop about five kilometers from the shore, Bailerhaas cautiously peered out from his bunker through his binoculars, carefully observing the three helicopters in the sky and the occasional people appearing on the ship.

After reading it, he took a deep breath, turned around, and slid down the slope a little bit, his body pressed against the earthen mound.

In a small valley more than 100 meters in front of him, there were about 60 or 70 people packed together, with about 30 people on the periphery carrying guns and anti-tank missiles.

The 30 or so people in the middle, dressed in crew uniforms, were all squatting on the ground with their hands tied.

Lying back on the slope to catch his breath, Bailerhas turned his head and looked at Sedaya beside him:
"Being a pirate isn't easy!"

Sedaya, sitting on a rock not far to his right, holding a map and drawing something on it, slowly raised his head upon hearing the complaint:
“We came here from Saada province to be pirates, and including today, we have successfully hijacked seven times in total.”

"Those seven times, the Iranians helped us select the ships. They said whichever ship had money, we would attack that ship."

"I just asked all these people and finally confirmed one thing."

"These seven ships all carry goods destined for Israel, including electronics, cars, clothing, and chemical products."

"In other words, it wasn't that we were unlucky, nor that America and al-Qaeda reacted quickly."

"It's because of the targets we kidnapped that the Americans sped up their actions."

“If we want to continue making money through piracy, we can’t just rob Israeli ships. Otherwise, the moment we start robbing, the American planes will arrive.”

"And you were right about one thing just now, we really should move to another place, this place is really not safe."

“If possible, I suggest we go back to Saada province first and discuss the Iranian issue with the chief.”

"Iranians?" Bailerhas asked softly, shook his head, turned around, climbed back up the slope, and continued to look at the distant sea through his binoculars.

Finding that the other side hadn't started fighting yet, he turned back and said, "For now, we are just knives in the hands of the Iranians."

"What we need to think about now is how to survive. Without their help, we can't fight those greedy guys on our own. "And we can't fight Saudi Arabia either."

"In terms of mutual needs, they certainly need us, but we need them even more."

"The leader understands this too; otherwise, he wouldn't have made us continue to follow the Iranians' orders to attack these ships."

“However…” Barlehas turned back and smiled at Sedaya:
"We can try to ask for more benefits!"

Before he could finish speaking and before Sedaya could reply, a burst of intense gunfire erupted from the distant, empty sea.

Upon hearing the gunshot, Sedaya, who was sitting on a rock looking at a map, suddenly stood up, quickly ran to the edge of the earthen slope, carefully climbed up the slope, and peered out with his binoculars close to the dry grass on the slope.

"Is this America's most famous Apache helicopter? Its firepower is quite impressive!"

"Look at their machine gun, and then look at ours. The firepower is far inferior!"

"Why don't the Iranians have machine guns like that?"

"I think we should ask the Iranians for two helicopters, or if that's not possible, anti-aircraft missiles will do!"

“You’re dreaming!” Bailerhaas shattered Sedaya’s illusions without hesitation, putting down his telescope and turning back:

"If the Iranians could provide us with armed helicopters, they wouldn't need to come to us!"

"Everyone's just making do, and you actually want to ask them for an armed helicopter!"

“That’s outrageous!”

"However, those American people are ruthless enough. We'll have to run faster next time."

On the distant sea, two Apache attack helicopters were positioned on either side of the container ship, using their machine guns to isolate the bow and stern.

At the bow, a Black Hawk helicopter carrying a Delta Force team hovered. The Delta Force team quickly landed and then rapidly deployed into two groups, one on the left and one on the right, advancing towards the stern.

In the cabin at the stern, Muhara, holding a gun, and his men hid in the cabin, occasionally peeking through the gaps to observe the helicopters in the sky and the deck not far away.

Just then, one of his subordinates suddenly raised his gun and fired a burst at the deck in front of him.

Gunshots rang out beside him, the sound making Muhara dizzy in the confined space. He raised his hand and slapped his subordinate aside, yelling, "What are you doing?"

There's someone there!

“I know there are people! We need to capture them now and take them hostage so we can get out of here.”

His subordinate knew he had made a mistake, so he lowered his head and silently changed the ammunition.

glared at the man, Muhara raised his gun and carefully aimed it in the direction the bullet had just passed.

This is a strategically important location, one man can hold off ten thousand. As long as we hold this position, those American soldiers will have to pass through here.

As long as they pass by, I can quickly cripple two of them and then capture them.

With hostages, we can then figure out a way to leave.

His idea was good, but unfortunately, they didn't have any hostages.

On the deck outside the ship's cabin, behind two containers, a Delta Force member was panting heavily. After catching his breath, he pressed the microphone:
"Hawkeye reports that their personnel are lying in ambush in the cabin and have confirmed that they do not have any hostages."

After he finished making his call, on the other side of the deck, several Delta Force team members who were advancing rapidly stopped. Their leader switched microphone channels and began making calls:
"Falcon Team calling Obsidian! Falcon Team calling Obsidian!"

"Through the probing just now, we can basically confirm that these people have no hostages and can attack without worrying about losses."

"Repetition allows for attacks that ignore damage!"

As soon as he finished making the call, the two armed helicopters that were positioned between the bow and stern immediately changed direction, quickly closed the distance to the stern, and then, following the instructions of the personnel on deck, activated the rocket launcher switch and aimed the rockets at the cabin entrance of the ship below.

Muhara and his companions, who were stuck at the entrance to the ship's cabin, were completely unaware of all this.

Just as they realized something was wrong, the rocket was already overhead.

Because they were carrying out maritime missions and needed to remain airborne for extended periods, both Apaches were only equipped with two M261 19-cell launchers.

With one Apache helicopter taking care of one side, the group in Bukhara only received 38 Hydra 70mm unguided rockets.

A container ship's hull can withstand bullets, but it cannot withstand 70mm rockets, let alone 38 of them.

Under the frenzied firing of the two helicopters, Muhara and the others hid in the cabin, which was being torn apart by the rockets. Through the gaps, they saw the people inside, and the helicopter pilots immediately pressed the cannon firing button.

The 30mm cannon fired, and the bullets went through the gap, cutting the person inside in half at the waist.

The attack lasted less than 5 minutes from start to finish.

After the explosion, the once neat and clean slipway of the container ship was wrecked and blackened.

The thick smell of gunpowder filled the ship as the Delta Force members slowly approached the blast site.

Upon approaching, instead of immediately going inside, they each pulled out a grenade and pulled the pin.

Count to two seconds, then throw it in.

Bang bang bang!
The sound of grenades exploding rang out, and two seconds after they ended, they rushed into the cabin through the open door, guns at the ready.

After firing a few shots and finding that everyone inside was dead, he took out his camera and started posing for photos.

After taking the photos, the group continued their search downwards.

Half an hour later, the search ended, and the captain pressed the microphone:

"The falcon calls to the eagle's nest!"

"There are no hostages on board! Repeat, there are no hostages on board!"

After making the call, instead of being questioned, he was met with a barrage of curses: "You didn't fucking kill all the hostages, did you?"

"No! There's no one here! Only Al-Qaeda members!" the captain repeatedly protested, but after his protests, he couldn't explain where the hostages had gone.

After all, everyone knows that a large area around here is controlled by al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula.

If they didn't arrest the people, then who did?
One hundred kilometers southeast of him, aboard the guided-missile destroyer USS Farragut in America's 5th Fleet, the captain, looking at the report from below, first darkened his face, then summoned the ship's resident propaganda personnel:

"You draft a press release and send it to the Central Theater Command, saying that our Delta Force team members have successfully killed a large number of terrorists for the safety of the ship."

"Don't write about people!"

"Never write about people!"

(End of this chapter)