Chapter 39: Finally, the Spoils of War
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In less than ten seconds, two figures appeared in sight.
Their movement was flawless. Anyone could tell they were professionals.
One in front and one behind, one to the left and one to the right.
A typical left-echelon jungle search formation.
Song Heping was no stranger to tactical formations. In truth, special forces units all over the world operated along much the same lines. The only differences lay in the improvements and variations developed from their respective experiences.
In a left-echelon formation, one man moved ahead while the other stayed within ten meters to his rear right. The exact distance depended on maintaining visual contact.
Every tactical formation was built around the same principles: minimizing casualties, optimizing firepower, facilitating coordination, and maintaining speed and flexibility.
His own ambush formation had been arranged with the same considerations in mind.
Grey Wolf was positioned seven or eight meters to Song Heping’s left, about five meters farther forward.
If anyone came through, Grey Wolf would be the first to encounter the enemy.
The best way to deal with the two men ahead was to let the first one pass, then strike when the second reached the defensive line.
A novice who did not understand tactics, or who was too nervous, would open fire the moment he saw the first man. That would be tantamount to suicide.
Even if he caught the first man by surprise and killed him, the second enemy would immediately become alert. He would return fire while taking cover, leaving no opportunity to finish him off.
Such a move would not only expose their own position but also draw more enemies toward them.
Besides, these men were no ordinary opponents. They were quite possibly members of the U.S. military’s special forces, and Song Heping did not dare underestimate them.
Yet he felt inexplicably excited.
Back when he had been in active service, many training exercises had been designed around U.S. special forces as the hypothetical enemy.
It felt like spending years punching a sandbag, only to finally get a chance to step into the ring.
His greatest concern now was that Grey Wolf might be unable to resist opening fire first.
He had never discussed tactical coordination with Grey Wolf.
Careless of him!
Now that he wanted to speak, he could not.
He could not even communicate over the tactical channel. The old personal radio he carried had no throat microphone, and he and Grey Wolf had never agreed on any hand signals or code words. Even if he lowered his voice as much as possible, transmitting could still reveal his position.
This was a classic coordination problem.
After all, he had not been part of the Musicians team for very long, and the members had never trained together enough to develop tactical coordination.
Damn it!
At the thought, Song Heping broke into a hot sweat despite lying in the cold mud. He kept repeating silently to himself:
“Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot...”
Now he could only place his hopes in Grey Wolf’s battlefield experience.
Fortunately, Grey Wolf did not fire.
The shadow in front passed safely through the muddy hollow where Grey Wolf was concealed.
He never noticed the deadly mercenary hiding in the mud to his right.
The cold mud lowered their body temperatures and blocked the release of infrared radiation.
This crude method could not last long, but before the mud dried and fell away, it still offered some protection.
Although the enemy had night-vision equipment, he failed to detect Song Heping and Grey Wolf concealed in the muddy hollow.
Angel was being very obedient.
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The girl had one advantage: though she had been spoiled and pampered, at critical moments she was as docile as a cat.
That pleased Song Heping greatly.
The second shadow passed Grey Wolf’s position.
Song Heping’s finger was already resting on the trigger of his AKM assault rifle, and he was ready to rise and fire at any moment.
It had to be fast.
Absolutely fast.
He was waiting for Grey Wolf to shoot.
Grey Wolf would surely fire at the nearest enemy—the second man.
Song Heping would deal with the first.
The enemy had already passed him and was heading toward the river, his back turned.
Song Heping was confident he could finish him with a short burst.
He had already chosen his target.
The head.
The spot at the back of the skull near the neck.
The men were definitely wearing Level III body armor equipped with ballistic plates. The AKM’s rounds might not penetrate them.
If a single shot failed to kill, then given the opponent’s skill, the outcome would be impossible to predict.
The second enemy had passed Grey Wolf’s position and gone another two or three meters. Song Heping felt as though his heart were being roasted over a fire.
Grey Wolf still had not fired!
Why wasn’t Grey Wolf firing?
Was Grey Wolf waiting for him to shoot first?
Song Heping was forced to make a difficult decision.
He would simply have to fire first and kill the special-forces soldier in front.
The disadvantage was that this would expose his entire flank to the second man. If Grey Wolf was not fast enough to support him, the enemy might answer his shot with a short burst and send him straight to the afterlife.
But there was no time to worry about that now!
If he waited any longer, both men would be too far away to kill.
Just as Song Heping was preparing to risk everything, a gunshot rang out.
Bang, bang!
Grey Wolf had made his move!
Song Heping did not even spare a glance to see whether Grey Wolf had hit his target. That was not something he needed to consider.
He rose from his crouch at the fastest speed possible and leveled the AKM assault rifle at the special-forces soldier who had already moved ahead, firing a clean short burst.
Bang, bang!
Two rounds.
A short burst.
He had no night-vision equipment, but moonlight reflected off the river and clearly outlined the figure of the soldier in front.
The gunshots rang out, and the man fell.
Not a single shot had missed.
Song Heping had absolute confidence in his marksmanship.
Thud!
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Thud!
Two heavy impacts sounded in succession as the bodies hit the ground.
The two special-forces soldiers had been killed before they even had time to react, becoming dead men beneath the guns. They probably died without ever understanding how they had been killed.
Song Heping scanned the surroundings again. Once he had confirmed that the area was secure, he said softly to Grey Wolf, “Beautifully done!”
Then he added, “Hurry up and search the bodies!”
Searching the bodies meant collecting the equipment and other items they carried.
It was the best way to determine who these men were.
Besides, Song Heping had another objective.
He wanted to loot their gear.
He had been thinking about it ever since leaving the Green Zone, though at first he had planned to loot the ISF’s equipment.
He desperately needed a head-mounted night-vision device.
The things were outrageously expensive.
Picking one up from a dead man could save him a fortune.
No matter who these men were, Song Heping had decided that their equipment was his.
He turned and instructed Angel, “Stay down and don’t move. Wait for me here.”
Then he sprang forward like a leopard and reached the nearest special-forces soldier. First, he carefully kicked the man’s rifle away. Then he used the sole of his boot to roll the body over, leaving it faceup.
After taking a look, Song Heping breathed a sigh of relief.
His two shots had been extremely accurate. One had struck the helmet, while the other had entered through the rear side of the neck, passed through the skull, and exited through the cheek.
He could not help praising his own marksmanship inwardly.
Nearly half the man’s face had been torn away. Brain matter clung to the wound, exposing a row of stark white teeth. The sight was rather nauseating.
Especially at night, with the river’s reflected light shining over everything, it felt like standing inside a horror film.
Suppressing his disgust, Song Heping reached out and removed the night-vision device from the man’s helmet.
“Now that’s good stuff!”
His eyes practically lit up.
It was a binocular night-vision device. Though he could not identify the exact model in the darkness, he guessed it was an AN/PVS-15.
The U.S. military’s special forces had only begun receiving this latest-generation night-vision device in 2000. It was not merely expensive; even money could not easily buy one. It was controlled equipment.
There was no question about it. Good equipment had to be taken.
There might be many more vicious battles ahead, and this thing could save his life.
As for the tactical vest, it was worth taking a look at too. Song Heping liked it as well. It was a MOLLE modular tactical vest commonly used by U.S. special forces.
“Brother, it’s no use to you anymore. It could save my life, so I’m taking it. I’ll burn some paper offerings for you later, so consider it a purchase...”
As he muttered, his hands showed no mercy. He swiftly stripped the corpse bare and took everything he could carry, not even sparing the small first-aid kit in the equipment pouch on the right side of the tactical trousers.
If the Cook had been there to witness him, he would probably have frowned at the sight, wondering how anyone could be so fanatical about gathering equipment.
After finishing the search, Song Heping was about to leave when something seemed to flash through his mind.
For a moment, however, he could not say what it was.
He could not help turning back to look once more at the corpse, its face missing nearly half.
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