Total Blockade

"But if we launch a full-scale assault on the compound, how do we deal with all those Humvees? Don’t forget they still have helicopters," Snake brushed his hand over the object hidden in his arms, pointing out the greatest obstacle to an aggressive strategy.

"We don’t need to go all out. What we need to do is drive them out of the compound and eliminate them in open combat," replied Elf.

"That’ll be tough without heavy firepower. Those buildings are natural fortresses for them."

"But we have him, don’t we?" Elf’s gaze shifted to the taciturn Iron Man, who gave a shy smile.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside. Instantly, everyone inside grabbed their weapons and sprang to attention. Elf calmly raised her hand, fingers splayed sharply. The others immediately dispersed, pressing themselves against the front and back doors and windows, weapons off safety, ready for any attack.

At that tense moment, a regular, rhythmic knocking came from the door. Elf relaxed upon hearing it and signaled everyone to stand down—the newcomer was one of their own. She walked to the door, tapped out a response, and Misha and Emma cautiously stepped inside.

"How did it go?" Elf asked.

"We got one—a model 1, equipped with a 12.7mm machine gun and a smoke launcher. The gas tank’s almost full," Misha replied, tilting her chin to the right. "It’s already hidden in the residential area, about two hundred meters from here."

"What about Stray Dog and Shell?"

"They’re securing another vehicle. Should be heading this way now."

"Excellent. With two armored vehicles in hand, my plan is even more complete." As Elf spoke, several lights flickered on in the dormitory building of Draven Oil in the distance. Though they soon went out, Elf felt a strong sense of unease. Barely a minute later, the roar of Humvee engines echoed from the compound, signaling a sudden shift in circumstances.

"We can’t wait any longer. Attack at once." Elf pulled several cell phones from her robe, handing them to her companions. Then she was the first to dash out of the house, sprinting without further concealment straight toward Gate One of the Draven Oil compound.

"Stray Dog and Shell haven’t arrived yet," Wild Hair called as he chased after Elf.

"No time to wait. We must begin now." Running hard, Elf suddenly dove forward, rolling nimbly and taking cover behind a half-crumbled wall. Wild Hair advanced stealthily, then hefted his launcher, loaded a rocket, and placed it at his feet, readying his weapon.

The others quickly took their positions as well. In just twenty-three minutes, a vast trap for Blackwater had been set.

With a loud clang, the iron gate of Gate One swung open. A Humvee burst out first, followed by two sedans. But barely fifty-six meters from the gate, Elf fired, her shot striking the Humvee’s windshield. Though bulletproof, the glass fractured around the impact point from the immense force.

"Ambush! Attackers!" The Humvee’s driver screamed at the sight of the shattered glass.

But Elf gave them no chance to turn. Snake, hidden on the second floor of a residential house, fired at the fractured spot, the bullet piercing the driver’s neck. The Humvee veered, losing control and exposing the two trailing sedans.

With a staccato burst, those lying in ambush unleashed a hail of bullets, riddling the first sedan’s driver and passenger with wounds. As the sedan ground to a halt, a rocket screamed across the distance, detonating the car with a thunderous explosion, incinerating the two in the back seat before they could escape.

Seeing the carnage, the second sedan wasted no time—braking and reversing, speeding back to the compound. Meanwhile, two Blackwater mercenaries tumbled out of the stalled Humvee, cursing at the retreating sedan. They quickly dropped to the ground, crawling away, vanishing into the darkness.

Everyone knew the first wave was just cannon fodder, sent to probe for danger. The real test would come with Blackwater’s second, concentrated breakout attempt.

When the gunfire ceased, the wilderness outside the compound fell silent, save for the burning sedan, its flames lighting a ten-meter radius. Elf, Wild Hair, and the others who’d attacked quickly shifted their positions, locking their sights back on the compound.

Realizing they were under scrutiny, Blackwater launched mini-drones, activating thermal sensors to scout the area and gauge how many attackers lay in wait. But Snake quickly disrupted their plans.

The moment Snake heard the drone’s buzzing overhead from her perch on the second floor, she grabbed her weapon, dashed up to the roof, and lay flat, aiming at the starry sky. Seconds later, the drone’s blinking red light approached, and as it detected Snake, a bullet pierced its hull, sending it crashing down.

Snake repeated the maneuver, her precise sniping taking out every drone Blackwater redirected from other angles.

Undeterred by the loss of aerial surveillance, Blackwater sent a second Humvee to try escaping through Gate Two.

This gate, too, was an imposing iron barrier. As the Humvee reached the entrance, its driver was startled to find the gate blocked—someone had barricaded it without their knowledge. Forced to rely on the Humvee’s power, the driver floored the gas, attempting to shove the obstacles aside.

Watching the gate inch open under the Humvee’s pressure, Iron Man, hidden in the grass nearby, grinned and pulled out a tiny phone, quickly dialing a preset number.

No sooner had the ringtone sounded than the bomb Iron Man had planted outside the gate detonated. A massive blast sent the iron gate flying, and the Humvee behind it exploded, engulfed in flames. A single burning figure staggered from the wreck, collapsed, and lay still.

Meanwhile, a third Humvee approached Gate Three. This time, the driver was wiser, accelerating from a distance to ram the gate and break through in one go. But Elf had anticipated this and prepared accordingly.

With a crash, the speeding Humvee smashed the iron gate open, but had barely advanced a few meters when the explosives buried in the road detonated. The shockwave hurled the Humvee into the air, then slammed it back down. All four tires blazed, testament to the ferocity of the explosion.

Red Glove—who had once met Hou Rui—was none other than Major Kleissmann, commander of Blackwater Security Consultant Group Seventy-Seven. He watched the surveillance feed with a grim expression.

The situation had clearly deteriorated. A professional force was ambushing Blackwater, and Major Kleissmann’s next task was to destroy them.

"Any news from intelligence? Do we know who’s behind this?" Major Kleissmann’s gaze remained fixed on the monitors. Though the screens were pitch black, the brief firefight had revealed that the opposition included at least one elite sniper, a demolition expert, and a minimum of forty-five combatants—these were the cards already exposed.

"No leads! Intelligence hasn’t detected any threatening individuals or organizations operating nearby," replied a blonde woman clutching a folder.

"Request support from headquarters. I want to know who’s targeting us and what their objective is," Major Kleissmann ordered, brooking no argument. Before the blonde could leave, he addressed his other subordinates: "Every trained adult is to be issued a weapon. Prepare for the worst."

As the others busied themselves, Major Kleissmann quietly instructed a headset-wearing communications officer, "Connect me to General Yalsso in Libya. Immediately."

Seconds later, the officer replied, troubled, "There’s been an attack on the city barracks. General Yalsso isn’t answering—he’s likely at the scene."

"Keep calling. Don’t stop until someone answers," Major Kleissmann said instinctively. Then, thinking better of it, he added, "Contact our informant in the barracks. Find out what happened and what losses were incurred."

"Yes, sir." As the subordinate responded, Major Kleissmann grabbed another passing staff member by the shoulder, ordering him, "Go confirm Mr. Raven’s location. Make sure he’s wearing body armor and ready to leave by helicopter at a moment’s notice."

After issuing a string of commands, Major Kleissmann paced the room, arms folded. When his gaze fell on the huge site map pinned to the wall, he suddenly grinned. "Now it’s our turn to put on a show! Launch a guided missile—take out the sniper for me first."