Upon departure

Even children joining the battle was proof enough that the pirates were running low on manpower. As Hou Rui, Lux, and their companion began advancing from behind the reefs into the central residential area, searching house by house for their kidnapped targets, Ding Ye’s team was also gaining the upper hand at the front.

Ding Ye darted nimbly behind a steel beam, and a burst of bullets aimed at him missed completely. In the blink of an eye, he emerged from behind the beam again, his Model 18 pistol quickly firing and dropping a gun-wielding woman more than ten meters away. With that, the last pirate blocking the big house fell.

Crouching with his gun at the ready, Ding Ye raised his hand and gestured forward. The other trainees revealed themselves and slowly closed in on the bullet-ridden house, weapons raised.

At a distance of sixty-seven meters, illuminated by the fire burning inside the house, Ding Ye could just make out figures hiding within. He signaled his team not to rush in, then took out two grenades, pulled the pins, and crept closer. He tossed one grenade after another through two separate windows, then twisted his body agilely to press himself against the wall below.

With two thunderous explosions, the shockwaves hurled a pirate out the window, bringing a sudden hush to the battlefield. Ding Ye straightened, and seeing a wounded pirate still gasping for breath at his feet, he didn’t hesitate—he drew his pistol and ended him with a shot to the forehead.

“Check your gear. Watch out for any remaining pirates in hiding. I want everyone searching for our targets—we need to get out of this damned place as soon as possible.” Stepping over the corpse, Ding Ye addressed his team. Soon, his group moved past the barricading house and pushed into the central residential area.

Judging by the size of the settlement, the pirates numbered no more than six or seven dozen, women and children included. Most had already fallen to Ding Ye’s team, so the now-deserted residential district was searched swiftly. In less than three minutes, they found a reinforced building with barred windows and doors—clearly a temporary prison for hostages. But it was already empty.

After fighting half the night only to have the prize snatched away, Ding Ye was seething with rage, though he maintained a calm exterior. He inspected the cell carefully, and considering all the evidence, quickly concluded, “They left only moments ago. At this time, the only ones who could have intervened like this aren’t the Vietnamese military or other pirates—it has to be another group from our organization. It’s Hou Rui’s team.”

“Do we pursue?” one trainee asked hesitantly.

“Of course. The mission briefing never said we couldn’t reclaim our target from another team.” With that, Ding Ye took off toward the back of the island.

Indeed, Hou Rui and his group hadn’t gone far. After successfully locating a Western couple in their twenties, Hou Rui immediately began to withdraw toward the coast guard ship. But he had underestimated Ding Ye’s progress—just as they reached the rocky shoreline, a burst of bullets struck the rock at their feet in warning.

Hou Rui turned to see a trainee closing in, and more shadows emerging behind. “Number 19, hand over the targets, and maybe we’ll let you go,” the trainee shouted arrogantly, confident in his side’s overwhelming numbers and firepower.

Hou Rui lowered his weapon compliantly, but whispered to Lux, “Take him out, then we jump into the sea. Ding Ye won’t let us go—if any of us escape, it’s a win.”

The other trainees were now within 450 meters. Lux, however, disagreed. “We won’t get far in the water—we’ll never escape.”

Now only 340 meters away, the enemy was closing in fast. Seeing Lux hesitate, Hou Rui prepared to act himself. As he raised his Remington 870, he said, “I know, but if we fight, there’s a chance. If we don’t, we’re dead for sure.”

He bent his knees, ready to shoot and dive into the sea simultaneously, when suddenly a piercing sound sliced through the sky. An instant later, an explosion rocked the center of the residential area—a ball of fire erupted, halting everyone’s plans and forcing Ding Ye, Hou Rui, and all the trainees to dive for cover.

“It’s a 75mm naval gun,” Deiss, pressed to the ground, assessed.

“Must be the Vietnamese navy. I knew it! Any pirates who’ve survived this long must have ties to the authorities,” Ding Ye muttered, his mind racing for an escape plan.

Their two landing boats were hit and exploded one after the other near the reef, sinking slowly in the flames. From his vantage point, one of Ding Ye’s trainees reported, “It’s a small torpedo boat with no flag, approaching rapidly. Estimated arrival in ten minutes.”

Another shell struck, demolishing the house that had blocked Ding Ye’s advance.

Trapped as well, Hou Rui saw Ding Ye’s boats destroyed and found a sliver of hope. He whispered urgently to Lux, who then crawled over to Ding Ye’s group.

“Our boat is still intact. Both teams should withdraw together,” Lux offered as soon as she reached Ding Ye.

“Kill you three, and the boat is still mine,” Ding Ye replied, unwilling to compromise.

“Killing us will take time. With the gunboat closing in, you won’t escape, even with a boat,” Lux stood her ground, ready for mutual destruction.

“Seems I’ll have to settle the score with Hou Rui another time.” Forced by circumstances, Ding Ye lowered his pistol.

The gunboat continued its bombardment, soon setting the reef ablaze, but by then both teams had slipped away. Jerry, who’d survived, brought the coast guard ship to pick them up, and together, they quietly escaped from the far side of the reef.

After speeding for several hours, they finally left the gunboat’s range. Tension immediately filled the air—Hou Rui, Jerry, Lux, and the muscular man huddled with their rescued targets in the pilothouse, refusing Ding Ye’s team entry. Ding Ye, meanwhile, spread his group throughout the vessel, maintaining subtle control.

A showdown seemed imminent when the buzzing of rotors suddenly filled the sky. A mysterious miniature drone circled the ship, then dropped a satellite phone onto the foredeck.

Ding Ye picked it up, and it rang immediately.

Ten minutes later, in the shadow of a towering rock pillar, the coast guard ship waited quietly. Ding Ye and Hou Rui, for once, stood side by side.

“Why haven’t they shown up yet? Could this be a trap?” one trainee muttered anxiously.

“Impossible! Look, it’s a submarine,” another began, but before he could finish, an iron leviathan surfaced without warning—a relic from the Soviet era, its hull emblazoned with a huge red star.

After an emergency ascent, the conning tower hatch opened. Out climbed a burly, bearded man in a sharp captain’s uniform and navy cap, his face nearly hidden by thick hair.

“Your mission is complete. Board the vessel—I’ll take you out,” he announced, ignoring the trainees’ assault rifles.

A cheer erupted from the trainees.

“Which team won?” Ding Ye suddenly asked, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.

“There are no winners this time. Details will be explained aboard. Remember, no weapons allowed on my submarine,” the bearded man said, then climbed back down.

With no other choice, Hou Rui’s team disarmed themselves, blindfolded their rescued targets, and boarded the submarine. After releasing a mine to sink the coast guard ship, the submarine slipped back beneath the waves.

Soviet submarines were never known for comfort—the cramped corridors barely allowed two large men to pass side by side. The air was worse, thick with the smell of machinery and oil, making every breath a torment.

The surviving trainees crowded into a large compartment, awaiting the organization’s judgment. As before, the two teams sat on opposite sides—Hou Rui’s group now only four, Ding Ye’s eight.

The hatch creaked open and the bearded captain returned, interrupting the silent confrontation.

“For this mission: Ding’s team eliminated most of the pirates, but Hou’s team rescued the hostages. The organization has ruled it a draw—consider your mission complete.” At these words, the trainees’ tension finally melted away, and some even managed to smile.

Seeing their relief, the bearded man continued, “However, you both made several strategic errors. Ding, you exposed your position too early and failed to plan a backup extraction. And you let Hou’s team snatch the hostages from under your nose.”

Ding Ye’s expression darkened as he listened, while Lux and her companions barely suppressed their schadenfreude, but the bearded man turned on Hou Rui: “Your group was no better—your intelligence gathering was a mess, your equipment preparation insufficient, and your plan to steal the prize was clever but got busted halfway. If the Vietnamese navy hadn’t shown up, do you think you’d still be alive?”

After berating everyone, the bearded man declared, “The organization has decided: all of Ding’s team will be assigned to frontline units for two years. Hou’s team members may choose frontline or infiltration units—the term is also two years. Hou, I’ll need your decision before you disembark.” With that, he turned to leave.

“What about our mission bonus?” Jerry piped up.

“Oh, nearly forgot—$150,000 has been deposited in each of your new Swiss bank accounts. The organization is generous in this regard. You have nothing to worry about.” The bearded man adjusted his cap, confirmed there were no further questions, and finally left the compartment.