I manufacture weapons in the Middle East and am wanted globally?

Chapter 83: 5 vs. 3 million!!!

The convoy in Elfro drove east along the coastal highway.

The journey from Zahle to Beirut, and then from Beirut to be smuggled by boat to Libya, took a full four days.

It's not easy to smuggle yourself across the border!

Four pickup trucks, their cargo beds completely covered with tarpaulins, bumped and jolted along the uneven asphalt road.

The convoy was stopped at a checkpoint.

"Stop the car!" A soldier in camouflage walked up carrying an AK47, muzzle down, but finger on the trigger guard.

Elfro leaned out of the passenger seat and shouted in Arabic, "One of us!"

He took a pass out of his pocket and handed it to the soldier, who took it, flipped through a couple of pages, glanced down at Elfro in the car, and then waved to the checkpoint behind him.

The railing has been raised.

"God bless you."

The soldier muttered something, handed the pass back, turned around and walked back to the guard post, where he and another soldier squatted behind the sandbags and continued smoking.

Elfro rolled up the car window and gestured with his chin toward the driver.

The pickup truck set off again, belching out a plume of black smoke from its exhaust pipe, continuing eastward along the coastal highway.

Saif's temporary command post was set up in an abandoned villa outside the city of Ajdabiya.

He had no command authority whatsoever.

It's more like a military supervisor!

It seems that even Old Ka doesn't quite trust the officers under his command.

The lobby on the first floor of the villa had been converted into a war room, with a huge map of the Ajdabiya region hanging on the wall, marked with red and blue pins indicating the positions of both sides.

Several officers stood in front of the map, discussing something in hushed tones. When they saw Elfro walk in, they turned around at the same time.

"Mr. Elfro."

A young officer approached, wearing a dark green uniform and bearing the rank of major.

"Where is Mr. Saif?" Elfro asked.

"On the second floor."

The major tilted his head toward the stairs and lowered his voice, "I haven't been in a good mood these past few days. NATO airstrikes are becoming more and more frequent, and we've suffered heavy tank losses."

Elfro nodded and went up the stairs to the second floor.

He stopped in front of a dark wooden door and knocked twice.

"Come in."

Elfro pushed open the door and went inside.

The room was small, with a dark red old carpet on the floor, a map of Libya hanging on the wall, and a wooden desk by the window with a thick stack of documents and an old-fashioned satellite phone.

Saif al-Arab Gaddafi sat behind his desk. His face was thinner than when he was in Zahle, his cheekbones were more prominent, his eye sockets were deeper, his beard hadn't been shaved for several days and was messy, and there were two dark circles under his eyes.

"Mr. Saif."

"How is it?"

"The goods have arrived, in the yard downstairs. 75 boxes, 1500 units, not a single one missing."

Saif's eyes lit up. "Let's go! Let's go down and take a look!"

On the stairs, Elfro said, "The Syrian army's deputy chief of staff, who is also Assad's son-in-law, was killed by this thing some time ago, and it made the news."

"9

Saif's eyes lit up. "I'm going to Tripoli tonight to report on this shipment to my father. You'll come with me."

"clear!"

Driving west along the coastal highway from Ajdabiya to Tripoli takes about seven or eight hours at normal speeds.

The car arrived in Tripoli late at night.

The main building of Gaddafi's Aziziya barracks was bombed long ago, and he has now moved to a secret residence known only to a few people!

Saif climbed out of the car, took a deep breath, and walked towards the door.

As soon as I reached the door, I heard a loud roar coming from inside. The sound was so loud that it could be heard clearly even through the heavy wooden door.

They cursed the United Nations as a bunch of scum!

They insulted NATO, calling them a pack of hyenas!

Saif slowed his pace.

From childhood to adulthood, he had heard this voice roar countless times, cursing NATO, cursing Arab countries, and cursing African chiefs.

He even felt that his father was born with a megaphone in his throat.

But not everyone—is willing to be criticized by him.

The last person who could offend several major factions at the same time was Saddam Hussein, who has already been reincarnated; now it's Gaddafi.

Calling Gaddafi a "fence-sitter" is not accurate enough. A more accurate label would be extreme pragmatism combined with personal dictatorial diplomacy. He had no fixed allies, and everything was based solely on "protecting his rights, oil interests, and personal ambitions." He could change his mind faster than turning the pages of a book. However, he was not unprincipled in his wavering, but rather an opportunist with clear selfish goals. (People's Daily, 1969-1990s: A staunch anti-American and anti-Western figure.)

2003-2011: Completely aligned with the West.

Early period: Pan-Arabism, aspiring to become the leader of the Arab world, forming alliances with Egypt and Sudan, but turning against them after the alliances failed.

Later: He shifted to Pan-Africanism, vying to become the "King of Africa," funding African unification, challenging the French CFA franc, and offending France.

Towards neighboring countries: frequent border conflicts, support for the opposition, and utterly lacking in credibility.

This is the best of the best—

There aren't many people who can make even a rabbit find something to be ashamed of.

Saif's lips twitched, and he forced himself to push open the door.

The living room was large, but sparsely furnished. A dark red carpet covered the floor, and a huge map of Africa hung on the wall.

Gaddafi stood in front of the map, his back to the door, wearing a dark gray robe and a checkered turban. He had one hand on his hip and the other pointing to a spot on the map, talking to several officers in front of him.

He heard the door open and turned around abruptly.

Saif took half a step back, and the eyes he saw were bloodshot.

Gaddafi has become increasingly irritable since the NATO airstrikes began.

The establishment of the no-fly zone made it almost impossible for his air force to take off. PS: Of course, even if they flew up there, it wouldn't make a difference, the gap was too big.

Gaddafi learned absolutely nothing from the Gulf War.

His ground forces were bombarded by air raids on the Misrata and Ajdabiya fronts, tanks were destroyed as soon as they showed their faces, and artillery was located as soon as it was deployed. Soldiers dared not come out of their bunkers during the day and could only move under the cover of night.

"Father."

Saif took two steps forward and handed over the folder in his hand. "I brought back a batch of goods from Lebanon."

Gaddafi took the folder, glanced at it, and frowned slightly.

"What is that? It's so ugly!"

"The mosquito drone costs less than a thousand US dollars, can carry a 200-gram warhead, has image transmission and GPS, is easy to operate, and can be flown by one person."

Saif spoke quickly, "It has already been proven on the Syrian battlefield, that Assef Shaukat, the Syrian Army's Deputy Chief of Staff, was killed."

Gaddafi looked up at Saif.

"Saif."

He closed the folder and tossed it onto the coffee table beside him. "What I need now are anti-aircraft missiles that can shoot down NATO aircraft, tanks and heavy artillery that can withstand opposition attacks, not these model airplane toys."

"But Father One"

That's enough.

Gaddafi raised his hand to interrupt him, "Take your guards to Ajdabiya and stay on the front lines."

"No matter what, let's fight first and talk later."

Gaddafi's voice lowered somewhat.

"Don't let anyone underestimate the child of the King of Kings. Remember, you are a member of the Gaddafi family, you are the sword of Islam. What are those opposition figures? A bunch of rabble. So what if they have NATO backing them? Our soldiers are the best warriors in Libya."

"Victory is mine!!"

Saif opened his mouth, but seeing his arrogant father, he bowed slightly, turned around, and walked out of the living room.

The instant the door closed.

Saif stood in the corridor and took a deep breath.

He lowered his head, glanced at the closed folder in his hand, tucked it under his arm, and quickly walked out of the small building.

Saif led his guards back to Ajdabiya overnight.

Three Toyota pickup trucks and two military trucks, fully loaded with soldiers and ammunition, drove east along the coastal highway.

The road conditions were terrible, with potholes everywhere on the asphalt surface. Some of them were caused by bombs, while others were formed naturally due to years of neglect. The pickup truck's shock absorbers creaked and groaned from the bumps.

As we approached Ajdabiya, it was already getting light.

-

"parking!"

Saif suddenly shouted, leaning forward, one hand resting on the dial, the other pointing into the distance.

Look over there—

The driver slammed on the brakes, and the pickup truck jerked violently to a halt.

Saif jumped out of the car, stood by the roadside, and squinted at the distant sky.

Several dark figures.

It flew in from the northwest at a very low altitude, almost touching the ground.

The silhouette, the speed—Saif's pupils constricted sharply.

This is not a Libyan Air Force plane.

Because there aren't any that good—

Doesn't he know how dilapidated his own home is?

The Libyan Air Force's old MiG-21s and Su-22s make a sound like thunder when they take off and bounce like tractors when they fly.

Mirage 2000, or Gust?

Saif took an old-fashioned military binoculars from the car, held it up to his eyes, adjusted the focus, and the view gradually became clear.

The planes began to descend, and their landing gear had been deployed from under the fuselage.

Saif's hand gripping the binoculars tightened suddenly.

"There's a NATO temporary forward operating base over there!"

His eyes widened as he shouted, "What are you still standing there for? Take the drone down!"

His men paused for a second, then moved in unison.

Pickups and trucks stopped by the roadside, and the soldiers jumped out, hurriedly lifting the tarpaulins and unloading the wooden crates from the truck beds.

Saif stood in the middle, gesturing with his hands in the air, "Assemble them one by one, start with 20!"

Upon returning home, Saif ordered his guards to find skilled model aircraft operators for training, in order to enable them to quickly master drones.

Saif's adrenaline began to surge.

NATO planes landed outside Ajdabiya.

What does this mean?

This means there must be a NATO forward base nearby!

There might also be oil depots, ammunition depots, and command centers.

All of them are high-value targets!!!

Saif turned around and shouted to the soldiers who were squatting on the ground behind him, "Hurry! Faster!"

"Send two Mosquito 2 drones to scout ahead."

Two operators squatted on the ground, holding remote controls in their hands, thumbs resting on the joysticks, and two Mosquito 2 drones were launched into the air from the ground.

They flew northwest, one after the other, skimming the ground.

Saif stood behind the operator, bent over, his eyes fixed on the palm-sized screen.

The video is shaking.

"To the left," Saif said.

The operator flicked the joystick, and the drone veered slightly to the left.

"Go further to the left."

The image on the screen began to change.

The sand and shrubs gradually thinned out, replaced by a relatively flat open area. At the edge of the open area, several military vehicles painted in desert camouflage could be vaguely seen, arranged in a circle.

Saif's breath hitched.

"Zoom in a bit, lower the altitude."

The operator eased off the throttle a little, the drone descended, and the details in the image began to become clearer.

Three Rafale fighter jets were parked side by side in the center of an open area, with their noses facing east!

French Air Force —

His heart suddenly raced, and he could hear the rushing sound of blood in his ears, a buzzing sound like someone drumming in his ear.

The operator moves the joystick, and the screen moves to the right.

Next to the three airplanes, there were two refueling trucks with the words "F-34" printed on their white tanks, and fuel lines hanging down from the trucks and coiled on the ground.

Next to the refueling truck was a brown military tent, with several ammunition boxes piled up at the entrance, and several people in flight suits were busy at work.

Saif took a deep breath.

"Are all 20 aircraft ready?"

The adjutant, his face covered in sweat, shouted, "Ready!"

"Take off, everyone!"

The drone team took off and flew close to the ground toward the target!

At the NATO forward operating base, a French soldier smoking by the entrance of his tent was the first to notice the anomaly.

He heard a buzzing sound—

He looked up in confusion and glanced around.

Several black dots appeared on the horizon.

The soldier took the cigarette out of his mouth, took two steps forward, and craned his neck to look, squinting his eyes.

The black dot is getting bigger and its outline is getting clearer.

It has a white fuselage, four propellers, and a bulging object hanging from the bottom of the fuselage.

"MERDE——!!!"

He abruptly threw away his cigarette butt, turned and rushed into the tent. Before he could even finish shouting, the first drone had already crashed into the refueling truck.

boom-!!!

The shockwave from 200 grams of TNT ignited thousands of liters of aviation fuel inside the refueling truck's tank.

A huge fireball rose from the ground, its edges shrouded in thick black smoke, like an expanding sun.

The fireball engulfed the entire refueling truck in a fraction of a second, then spread to both sides, causing a second refueling truck to explode. The chain reaction instantly doubled the intensity of the shockwave.

The air within a radius of fifty meters was sucked out and then suddenly bounced back, forming a scorching wave of air that spread in all directions.

The three Rafale fighter jets were less than 130 meters away from the refueling truck.

The second group of ten mosquitoes simultaneously swooped down from different directions.

The shockwave from 200 grams of TNT tore apart the structure at the wing joints, causing the outer wing sections to droop under gravity. The missiles mounted on the aircraft detached from their pylons, crashed to the ground, shattered, and leaked fuel.

Flames mixed with aviation kerosene erupted from the breach, pouring onto the concrete ground of the tarmac and creating a sea of ​​fire.

The remaining drones hovered over the fire.

The French pilots and technicians who had just rushed out of the tent were thrown to the ground by the first shockwave.

Some people's flight suits caught fire and they rolled on the ground; some lay motionless on the ground with blood seeping from their ears; and some knelt on the ground, supporting themselves with their hands and dry heaving.

The tent collapsed in the explosion; the canvas was torn to shreds, and the aluminum alloy frame was twisted and deformed, resembling a pile of crumpled waste paper.

Outside the base, several French soldiers who had narrowly escaped the blast lay on the ground, firing their FAMAS rifles haphazardly into the sky. The bullets traced invisible trajectories in the morning light, but the white drones were too small and too fast to aim at.

(What a terrible gun!)

Saif stood by the roadside a few kilometers away, holding binoculars, watching the black column of smoke rising in the distance.

His hands were shaking.

"God is supreme!!!" He looked up at the sky and roared.

He paused, then shouted, "Long live Bruce!!!!"

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