076 An Unattainable Strength (Second Update)
Rice has returned, and here's the second update! Please support me in every way so I can explode with inspiration!
If this were a rainstorm,
It would certainly pour down in torrents.
Shadows flickered before his eyes. The nerves, stretched to their limits, had rendered every movement mechanical and numb. Sweat clouded his vision, making it difficult to see clearly. Guan Hu only felt a slight tingling in his palm. He no longer knew how many times he had pulled the trigger. As soon as he emptied a magazine, he swiftly reloaded and fired again without hesitation.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bullets tore through the air, spinning at high speed before slamming into the wall not far away, instantly blasting off a shower of debris.
The domestic 03-type 5.8mm assault rifle, though not as powerful as other large-caliber automatic weapons, boasted impressive accuracy, making the Americans on the other side suffer.
“Shit! Damn Chinese!”
“Go! Go! Go!”
“Sam, break out from the left! Damn Chinese, do their bullets have eyes? Fuck!”
“Tiger Team, the Americans are trying to escape!”
Bang!
Rat-tat-tat!
Pow! Pow!
Gunfire poured down like rain. Only a narrow alley separated the Americans from them, the distance between the two sides just a few dozen meters. In this deadly confrontation, there was no way out. As the gunfire from across the way thinned, someone on Guan Hu’s side immediately sensed the Americans' intentions.
“Nightingale, take a few men and flank from the left, quickly!”
“Yes!”
The man codenamed Nightingale made a few quick hand signals, and four men rushed out with him. But just as they broke from cover, an RPG streaked towards them with a blazing tail.
“RPG!”
“Take cover!”
Boom!
A deafening explosion rocked the entire house, making Guan Hu’s head spin with dizziness.
Thud-thud!
Two muffled sounds—two special forces members closest to the window had just exposed themselves and were struck in the shoulder, the force of the bullets tearing through flesh and bone, spraying blood in a wide arc.
“Watch out, sniper!”
Guan Hu didn’t hesitate. He raised his rifle and fired a burst toward the direction the bullets had come from, disrupting the enemy’s rhythm. Meanwhile, his men quickly dragged the wounded back. The air was thick with the stench of blood, but since the wounds weren’t fatal, the two would not die immediately.
“Wildcat! Wildcat!”
“—”
“Tiger Team, Wildcat and Monkey have been hit! But they’re still alive for now.”
“Leave someone to tend their wounds. The rest, come with me. The Americans are escaping.”
Guan Hu’s face was grave.
As a true iron-blooded man, a soldier, he knew that this battle was about far more than victory or completing a mission—it was about the honor of Chinese soldiers.
Since that war over half a century ago, when their military and economic strength was vastly mismatched, Chinese and American soldiers had never crossed paths again.
Which meant this unintentional clash could be the first direct confrontation in more than fifty years.
They could not lose. They could only win.
More than that, they could not afford to lose.
The machine gunners must not have died in vain!
Elsewhere—
After a quick disguise, Li Changjiang immediately withdrew through the rear exit. Americans were not to be underestimated, and he was not arrogant enough to think he could suppress an entire U.S. squad on his own. If Nicholas was fast enough, perhaps he could escape as well.
With barely a pause, he sprinted madly down the alley, only stopping when he ducked into an abandoned house, pressing himself to the wall.
But before he could catch his breath, hurried and chaotic footsteps echoed from the other side of the alley. Sensing danger, he slipped into a back room and lay flat, pulling the half-broken door shut. Instantly, he saw shadows flicker through the gaps.
“Go! Go! Go!”
Americans!
Li Changjiang held his breath, nerves taut as a wire, sweat pouring down his face and soaking his shirt.
A rush of footsteps—
One, two, three… twelve!
Twelve Americans, moving in pairs, covering each other as they retreated inside. They looked flustered, with a hint of fear in their eyes, which puzzled Li Changjiang.
“Fuck! Why are there Chinese here?!”
“Shit!”
“Smike, call Eagle immediately!”
“Yes, sir!”
The room was small, and with a half-wall for cover, Li Changjiang curled into a ball, not daring to move or make a sound. The Americans rummaged through everything they could find but didn’t seem to notice his hiding place.
Of course, perhaps they simply didn’t believe any enemy could be here.
“Eagle, this is Eagle, Captain, report your position.”
A young American officer slung his M4 over his shoulder and snatched up the radio.
“Sir, the Chinese firepower is overwhelming. We need support! Repeat: Requesting support!”
In the U.S. North African command center in Egypt, Sloan Allen was growing agitated. No one had slept for two days and nights.
Benghazi!
Tripoli!
Misrata!
Damn it! Could someone explain why all of Libya seemed to be in chaos, and now the Chinese had thrown themselves into this already tangled war?
It was giving him a headache.
But he still believed he could control this increasingly precarious situation.
“Captain, your mission is to find our men, dead or alive, and bring them back! Repeat: bring our men and their bodies back! The Rangers are on their way.”
He cut off the radio transmission with a snarl.
“Hey, guys, is our support coming soon?”
“Damn this war!”
Bang!
An angry American soldier kicked a pile of debris, sending it crashing against the wall near Li Changjiang. His finger instinctively curled around the trigger.
If the Americans discovered him, he would not hesitate to shoot.
“Hey—hey—hey! Calm down, man, okay?”
Only when the Americans' tempers cooled did Li Changjiang finally let out a slow breath, though he dared not relax.
It was several minutes before the Americans left.
Li Changjiang did not come out immediately. Suspicion gnawed at him.
Chinese? Did the Americans discover him?
Impossible.
He was certain they had not discovered his identity. If not him, then who? Who else could it be?
Boom!
Just as he hesitated, a violent explosion thundered from outside, followed by the roar of engines.
Damn it—it was a helicopter.
American air support had arrived!
On the other side, Guan Hu’s team was hit by a fierce airstrike almost immediately.
Boom!
Rat-tat-tat! The Black Hawk’s Gatling gun spat twin streams of fire from overhead—there was no escape.
Thud! Thud! The foremost men were riddled by bullets, blood spraying from their wounds.
“Nightingale!”
“Nightingale! Damn it! Hold on! Tiger Team! Tiger Team!!”
The man who caught Nightingale behind him screamed until his voice was raw.
“Go! Go now!”
But before he finished, Nightingale’s hand fell limply. Guan Hu’s eyes reddened with fury and grief.
“Go!”
“Captain, take Nightingale with us!”
“Damn it! Obey orders!”
“But Captain—”
Guan Hu’s command was harsh, but he did not waver. In this situation, there was no way to bring their comrade’s body back with them.
America’s power spanned the globe—too overwhelming for the Chinese to rival. But this was a war they could not afford to lose.
“We’ll avenge him! Now move!”
They dragged Nightingale’s body into a house, then Guan Hu led his team out through another exit. The Americans’ helicopters were here—they had to withdraw for now.
Elsewhere—
With air support restored, the Americans quickly cleared out the Libyans. The mercenaries, seeing the situation, did not interfere further. The Americans moved unopposed, charging straight to the prison at the rear of the camp.
Meanwhile, at the U.S. base in North Africa—
Before a massive display screen, Sloan Allen watched footage of American troops entering the prison. The outcome seemed certain—victory would, in the end, belong to America.