Chapter 75: The Hunt (First Update)

Misurata.

By the time Li Changjiang and Nicholas circled around the back of the camp to find the entrance to that enormous, almost intimidating building, the gunfire in their ears had faded to a distant murmur. Yet he didn’t let his guard down; if anything, his nerves were stretched even tighter.

Who could tell if a Libyan might suddenly leap out from somewhere and riddle him with bullets?

The whole of Misurata was now a powder keg; even without a spark, it could explode from the slightest friction, let alone now that the battle had already begun.

Americans!
Government troops!!
Libyan rebels!!!
Those mercenaries!!!!
And even a Chinese special operations team Li Changjiang hadn’t yet heard of!!!!!

All of them together formed a tangled melee.

“What is this place?” he asked.

“A prison—the most heavily guarded one in Misurata. The Chinese prisoners and the captured American soldiers you’re looking for are inside. My target is here too. We’ll split up!” Nicholas replied.

Split up? At those words, Li Changjiang froze.

Split up? He wasn’t afraid, but he had no sense of direction!

“You go in there; I’ll go this way,” Nicholas said, pointing at the main gate on one side and the wall on the left.

Li Changjiang fell silent. The wall before him was nearly three meters high, and aside from a window, there was no obvious entrance. There was no way he could scale it. Yet, to his astonishment, Nicholas braced his feet against the sheer sides and vaulted over it in a couple of agile movements.

Damn it! These Libyan hellhounds!

“Must be born in the Year of the Monkey,” he muttered, but quickly steeled himself, focusing all his senses.

Pressing close to the wall, he made his way toward the main entrance. To his surprise, only two Libyan soldiers were guarding the gate.

Li Changjiang was just about to burst in.

Suddenly, two muffled pops echoed.

The two Libyan soldiers fell instantly. Then, from the corner of the wall, a squad of fully armed U.S. Marines—about a dozen of them—rushed out.

He didn’t even dare breathe loudly.

Li Changjiang actually felt quite wary of the Americans. Their reputation preceded them. He didn’t know much about U.S. soldiers; two months ago, he barely knew what war was.

But after two months of struggling at the edge of life and death, he had come to appreciate the importance of systematic military training.

Like now.

All he could do was hide at the corner, motionless, practically a sitting duck.

Of course, the Americans hadn’t expected anyone to be hiding there.

“Go! Go! Go!”

“Obstacle cleared!”

The Americans moved with dazzling speed and efficiency.

If the situation weren’t so dire, Li Changjiang really wouldn’t want to provoke the Americans. So when he darted to the window opposite and raised his gun, he felt a shiver deep in his heart.

He knew that once he fired, it would be war—a storm of violence.

But the arrow was already nocked; he had no choice.

Otherwise, that bastard Nicholas would be caught by the Americans for sure.

Bang!

The metallic click of the firing pin was almost inaudible. But as the high-velocity bullet tore through the air, the faint thud instantly alerted the Americans to danger.

Their reaction time was less than a second.

Special forces, with their intensive training, were even quicker—but not quicker than a bullet.

Thud!

Through his automatic aiming system, Li Changjiang saw blood spatter from the center of a soldier’s brow, yet he didn’t even blink.

The distance from his firing point to the building opposite was barely twenty meters. At such a range, with the help of his aiming system, he was almost invincible.

The Marines had no time to react.

Thud—thud!

Two more shots.

Two other soldiers, not quick enough to dodge, collapsed as well. But Li Changjiang knew they weren’t dead—he had deliberately shot them in the legs.

Encirclement to lure reinforcements—this tactic could always leave the enemy at a loss.

That’s human nature.

By temperament, Li Changjiang would never have used such a tactic—it was an assault on humanity itself. But war was war.

He remembered when Louis first taught him that a competent sniper must use this very method—he hadn’t hesitated.

On the battlefield, mercy to the enemy was the height of irresponsibility to oneself.

“Fuck! Sniper!”

“Take cover!”

“Walter! Walter!”

“My leg! My leg!”

Another white soldier simply fainted.

The building was classic European style; the walls blocked the view from both sides of the courtyard. The rest of the Americans hid behind the wall—there was nothing Li Changjiang could do.

But the two he’d shot were completely exposed, and with only one entrance from the courtyard to the main door—squarely in his sights—it was almost impossible for them to dash through.

So when he caught a glimpse of a shadow dashing out from behind the wall, his finger instantly squeezed the trigger.

Whoosh!

Thud!

“Fuck!”

“Damn it! Fox! Fox!”

The American who rushed out lay motionless on the ground.

Not far away, Li Changjiang could clearly hear the Americans’ voices.

Inside the building—

Hearing the repeated gunshots, Nicholas immediately realized the Chinese man must be in trouble. Climbing through a window, he hurried forward.

When Li Changjiang fired at the last target, Nicholas had just arrived, hiding behind a side door. He glanced at the Americans sprawled on the ground, then looked at the building where Li Changjiang was concealed, and gave him a thumbs-up.

That bastard!

Through the scope, Li Changjiang knew Nicholas had figured out his position. He pressed his lips into a faint smile.

Thud!

Another shot forced a Marine trying to charge into the building to retreat.

“Hey, Joan!”

Behind the courtyard wall—

The remaining eight Marines huddled together, barely daring to move.

Their leader was a Black officer.

“Sergeant, what did you say?”

“Sniper! Damn it!”

“Hey, Hall, can you spot that damned sniper?”

Hall was a young man, also carrying a sniper rifle. But now, he was so suppressed he couldn’t even fire, let alone locate the enemy.

“I’ll give it a try!”

He took out a military signaling mirror, slowly raised it from the edge of the wall, and quickly found the gun barrel aimed at them.

Whoosh!

With a sharp crack, the mirror shattered.

“Damn!”

“Tom, what do we do now?”

Minute by minute, spirits in the squad began to flag, even waver.

At last, the Black officer gave the signal to attack from both flanks. The others exchanged glances and nodded.

But they didn’t know that, behind the black muzzle where Li Changjiang lay in ambush, his figure had already disappeared.

(Wrote this chapter in the office this morning—got caught and scolded by the boss! Tragic!)