Chapter 50 Killing Two Birds with One Stone

In the outskirts of Tikrit, near Eriege, Song Heping crawled up a small mound with a low, snake-like slither.

He had to admit that night vision goggles were truly magnificent gear.

Looted as high-end plunder, this latest specialized equipment used by the U.S. military allowed him to see the surrounding environment with absolute clarity even in such pitch-black, lightless conditions.

"Queen, are you in position?"

"In position, but this damn place... there isn't a single decent spot!"

The Queen complained in a low voice over the comms, her words peppered with a few Russian curses.

It was the first time Song Heping had ever encountered a woman with such a foul mouth.

He had no idea what the White Bear saw in her.

The "Musician" mercenary group had left their vehicles two kilometers away, disassembled the M2HB heavy machine gun from their Humvee, and carried it along with the ammunition to the vicinity of this farm. They had also brought two RPG rocket launchers from the Humvee, intending to use them for heavy firepower support.

Calling it heavy firepower was a generous stretch; it was essentially light firepower.

If they had an Apache helicopter, it would be more useful than any rocket launcher.

Maybe...

Having an AC-130 gunship assigned to him wouldn't be bad either...

Unfortunately, they had neither.

And they never would.

A small team had to make do with these conditions.

They just had to endure it.

When firepower was insufficient, tactics had to make up the difference.

According to the intelligence provided by Thomas, Saif was currently inside this farm.

After some reconnaissance, they confirmed there were four buildings on the farm.

The main structure was a two-story building covering an area of about one hundred square meters, while the remaining buildings looked like barns and shelters for agricultural machinery.

Reconnaissance required time.

Generally speaking, scouts needed a day or two, or even longer, to reconnoiter a single location and target.

Through continuous, prolonged observation, they would map out the target terrain, mark the positions of sentries and critical weaponry, figure out the enemy sentries' patrol routes and shift-change times, and then formulate a targeted tactical plan.

"Chef."

Song Heping said, "You should have asked Thomas for the reconnaissance photos of this place."

Chef replied with a hint of anger, "I asked. He didn't give them."

Song Heping let out a cold snort. "He didn't give them? Well, that's interesting."

Chef asked, "What's so interesting about that?"

Song Heping sighed and said, "Do you think Thomas's men couldn't handle this place?"

Chef said, "Of course they could."

Song Heping said, "That settles it then. He's treating us like his tools, using us to kill someone while keeping his own hands clean without paying any price, just waiting to reap the rewards. Once we both bleed and exhaust ourselves, he'll swoop in to pick the peaches..."

As he spoke, he gestured toward the pitch-black farm in the distance.

"Look at that. There's a huge open field here. Right now, we can visually spot over twenty patrolling personnel inside and outside the farm. How many more are hiding inside the houses or acting as concealed sentries is still uncertain. Based on the ratio of one-third deployed and two-thirds on standby resting, this farm has at least seventy suicide squad members. Sneaking up on them is far too risky. There's complete lack of cover, making it very easy to be discovered. Once discovered, death is guaranteed—there is no second way out."

Chef had also figured it out by now. He frowned and cursed, "That treacherous bastard Thomas!"

Then he asked, "Do you have any good plans?"

Song Heping glanced at him. "Aren't you the boss?"

Chef was remarkably straightforward. "How about you take over as the boss then? Do you think being the boss is comfortable?"

Song Heping said, "I've never seen a rogue like you."

After observing for a while longer, Song Heping shook his head and said, "Without air support, it's very difficult for us to accomplish this. Besides, we don't even have enough time now. We don't even know the shift-change times of those patrols; otherwise, we could exploit the gap during a shift change to launch a rapid assault..."

Chef checked his watch. It was 2:50 AM.

"Zang, we only have ten minutes left until the agreed meeting time. We've run out of time."

Song Heping pulled his head back, flipped over onto his back, and stared up at the starry sky.

As he looked at the twinkling stars, his mind raced, frantically searching for a countermeasure.

Tactics...

Tactics...

What kind of tactics should they employ?

Scenes from various training sessions flashed through his mind.

The instructor's voice, shouting while poking him in the forehead, still echoed in his ears.

"Water has no constant shape, and warfare has no constant dynamic. Keep your minds flexible! If you ever truly end up on the battlefield, don't blindly stick to every theory you've learned—forget them! Let them melt into your blood and your bones, and become your own instinct!"

Damn it...

Song Heping cursed inwardly.

What that instructor said back then was far too philosophical. It sounded simple enough, but applying it was not simple at all.

"Zang! Make a decision! There are only seven minutes left!"

Chef urged him anxiously from the side.

"Stop calling me Zang, damn it! I always feel like you're taking advantage of me!" Song Heping snapped, feeling irritated enough to scold Chef.

Chef licked his lips, rolled his tongue, and said with great politeness and sincerity, "Zang... did you think of any way?"

Perhaps he spoke too much Russian; he simply couldn't get his tongue around it properly.

It was still Zang.

"Damn it!"

Song Heping suddenly sat up, grabbed an RPG launcher, slung it across his back, and bolted like lightning.

This action left Chef completely dumbfounded.

What was going on?

Deserting before battle?

Quitting?

Just because he called him "Zang"?

"Zang, what are you doing?!"

Chef shouted through the comms.

Fortunately, he heard Song Heping's reply: "Chef, there's no time to explain. Stay where you are, remain concealed in your current positions, and open fire on my command! Remember my words: inflict as many casualties as possible and stall his bodyguards to buy a little time!"

"What did you say? I didn't catch that!"

"You don't need to understand! This is beating the grass to startle the rabbits!"

"Beating the grass to startle the rabbits? What rabbits?"

Chef was completely bewildered.

What on earth was happening?

His mind was an absolute blur of confusion.

Song Heping sprinted at maximum speed, circling around the farm and heading north.

To the north of the farm was the urban area of Tikrit.

That was an area not yet fully controlled by the coalition forces.

At present, a large number of former suicide squad members loyal to Saddam were still entrenched in the city, having transformed into guerrillas hiding among the urban ruins to wage hit-and-run tactics and urban warfare against the coalition forces.

If Saif believed that Angel had colluded with the intelligence agencies, then the moment he came under attack, he would be that panic-stricken rabbit!

He would definitely flee.

Where would he flee to?

Naturally, the urban area of Tikrit.

That was the safest place nearby.

Therefore, the northern route was his only path of necessity.

Song Heping decided to go there and intercept him.

The weight on his back now included an extra RPG launcher.

However, for Song Heping, who had undergone years of ten-kilometer armed cross-country marches, this was nothing.

Speed was what mattered.

Fortunately, his record for the ten-kilometer cross-country back in the day was around 36 minutes, making him one of the most elite runners in his platoon.

The wind whipped past his ears, and Song Heping felt as though he had traveled back in time.

This time, he ran faster than ever before.

After all, his life was on the line.

Chef was still asking questions over the comms, but Song Heping couldn't be bothered to reply.

If Chef didn't even have that basic level of trust, then there was no point in being back-to-back comrades.

"He's calling."

Angel's voice suddenly came through the earpiece.

The foreign woman was currently in an armored vehicle two kilometers away, communicating via the vehicle-mounted radio.

The "he" she referred to was undoubtedly Saif.

Song Heping glanced at his watch.

It was exactly 3:00 AM.

"Angel, bring out your acting skills and stall him! Stall him as long as you can! Buy as much time as possible!"