Splitting up to break through

In just a few minutes, Building No. 3 had become a colossal bonfire, constantly echoing with the sound of glass shattering under the intense heat. Some Diriven Petroleum employees and Blackwater mercenaries had already been forced to abandon the building, crouching in embarrassment behind a ring of Humvees and the remaining Grizzly armored vehicles, using them as makeshift cover.

In the Blackwater command center set up in the building’s basement, Major Kreisman and a handful of others still held their positions. The air had become acrid and scorching, but the major and several operators pressed damp cloths to their faces, forcing themselves to continue operating the equipment.

“Mayday, mayday! We’re under attack by unknown assailants—cough, cough!” The agitated communications officer had long since removed his headset, yet kept shouting for help through a hoarse throat.

Another operator, sweat streaming down his face and glasses fogged, tore open his tie and abruptly leapt to his feet, shouting, “It’s too hot! I can’t stay here any longer—I’m getting out!” Without a backward glance, he bolted for the side door. The instant he flung it open, a wave of flames surged in along the ceiling, engulfing the command center overhead in a blazing inferno in the blink of an eye.

With crackling sounds, equipment stacked high or positioned near the walls burst into sparks, and several machines instantly ceased to function. The command center was on the verge of becoming useless.

“Everyone out! Get to the yard—take as many weapons as you can!” In the face of such peril, Major Kreisman finally gave the order to evacuate completely. But when the operator before him tried to rise, the major grabbed his shoulder, holding him back.

“Major, you—?”

“Upload the footage of the attack to HQ via satellite. I want these bastards caught.” Major Kreisman’s eyes burned with implacable hatred as he spoke. He watched as the operator completed the upload, then covered his nose and mouth and ran from the command center. They had scarcely left when the ceiling collapsed behind them.

Outside in the Diriven Petroleum compound, the burning buildings had merged into a single sea of fire, illuminating nearly a kilometer in every direction. The towering flames could be seen clearly from several kilometers away—a situation that brought both advantages and disadvantages to both sides.

For Major Kreisman, losing the buildings meant losing his greatest cover. Now, he would be forced into close combat with foes hidden in the darkness. On the other hand, the blaze would eventually draw the attention of various factions. If the Libyan government or any international organization arrived, Major Kreisman could at least claim he had managed to protect his employer’s safety.

For the Elves, driving the Blackwater team from the building meant half their mission was already accomplished. The rest would be a race against time: to annihilate the enemy before any complications arose.

Bang, bang—Elf and Snake Lily fired almost simultaneously, sneaky bullets threading through the narrow gaps between Humvees and Grizzlies. One Diriven Petroleum employee and a Blackwater mercenary carrying an M16 fell dead. Another nearby, a female Diriven employee, had just pressed a hand to her colleague’s wounded chest when another shot rang out from the dark, felling her, so that their bodies lay stacked together.

Witnessing this, panic erupted among those who’d escaped the building. Everyone scrambled to wedge themselves deeper behind the vehicles; none wished to become the next victim of the snipers’ merciless aim. In the chaos, a Blackwater mercenary was even shoved out of cover by the employees, becoming fresh prey for Elf and Snake Lily.

“Major, this isn’t working!” A fully armed Blackwater mercenary darted between vehicles, finally crouching behind Major Kreisman and whispering urgently.

“Can you locate their snipers?” Squatting behind a Grizzly’s massive tire, the major’s eyes scanned the darkness, desperate to pinpoint the Elves’ position.

“We’re backlit, and they’re all experienced—constantly changing position. We can’t get a fix. Should I try using the Grizzly’s missiles?”

“No. We need those for their vehicles.”

Bang—a shot rang out as they spoke. The major and the mercenary ducked instinctively. The bullet, however, found another target, tearing through a nearby employee’s neck before smacking into the Humvee with a crisp clang.

“In that case, we’ll just have to sacrifice some of our people.” Major Kreisman gritted his teeth, watching the convulsing body, then suddenly turned to shout at his men, “Get the Raven team in the vehicles. We’ll split up and break out.”

At once, the Blackwater mercenaries in the ring of vehicles sprang into action. Most began laying down suppressive fire toward the wasteland beyond the yard, while a smaller group yanked open car doors, shoving Diriven Petroleum employees inside, then piling in themselves and slamming the doors shut.

In the blink of an eye, the circle of vehicles broke apart, forming three separate convoys heading in different directions. Though most had managed to board, about ten Diriven employees and thirty-four mercenaries were left behind, forced to follow a Grizzly on foot.

Elf, who had been patiently lying in wait, finally narrowed his eyes. This was the decisive moment: whether they could block their opponents or identify the mission target among the three convoys would determine the squad’s fate.

“Everyone, engage at will. Brass, Wild Dog, be ready to pursue at any time.” Elf set his phone aside; there was no longer any need to keep the line open—the situation could change at any second, and he needed to adapt quickly. From here, it would depend on the combat skill of each team member.

Rattling and battered, Vehicle 1 rumbled forward, though its fuel and ammunition were almost exhausted. Emma hoped only to squeeze a little more use from the 12.7mm machine gun before abandoning the vehicle and switching to fighting on foot.

Following Vehicle 1’s lead, the squad members lying in wait in the yard’s outskirts revealed themselves and opened fire, enveloping the first convoy to break out in a torrent of bullets.

The Blackwater Humvees immediately returned fire. The Gatling gun on the roof turret spun wildly, bullets streaming out so densely they shredded one exposed squad member in an instant. As the gunner swung the weapon toward his next target, a single shot pierced his right eye socket.

Far off, Snake Lily was working her bolt, searching for another high-value target, when a guided missile, trailing flames, slammed toward her. There was no time to relocate; she could only curl up and make herself as small a target as possible.

With a thunderous boom, the tree that had concealed Snake Lily exploded into pieces, the splintered trunk burning fiercely before even hitting the ground. As for Snake Lily, she vanished utterly in the aftermath—gone as if she had never existed at all.

The Blackwater convoy pressed on, another mercenary taking over the dead gunner’s position. The Gatling gun roared again; whenever any of Elf’s team fired, it unleashed blistering retaliation, quickly mowing down squad members one after another.

“Keep pushing! Don’t stop until we break out of this area!” Major Kreisman, inside the convoy, shouted into his radio, elated by the turn of events.

Suddenly, Elf’s Vehicle 1 swerved sharply, charging headlong into the lead Humvee, ignoring all risks. They were only 780 meters apart—collision would occur within seconds, and the ten-ton Vehicle 1 would surely reduce the Humvee to scrap.

But Misha and Emma’s plan failed. As soon as they blocked the Humvee’s path, the convoy’s lead Grizzly fired a missile that struck Vehicle 1’s front end with deadly accuracy. The blast tore a basin-sized hole in its armor, and the ensuing explosion reduced both the vehicle and its two occupants to ashes.

Watching from afar, Hou Rui was beside himself with rage. He turned to Brass, suggesting, “Let’s join in. Our 14.5mm can punch through a Humvee’s armor.”

“Not yet,” Brass replied from the driver’s seat, calm as if the slaughter had nothing to do with him.

“At this rate, our people will all be dead!” Hou Rui’s anxiety rose, his voice growing louder.

“Everyone is the same—we’re all pawns carrying out orders. Who lives and who dies doesn’t matter; what matters is accomplishing the mission.” Brass’s tone was steady, but the battle was shifting once more.

As the bravest Humvee in the convoy sped across half the wasteland, a rocket hidden in the grass was fired. Two rockets in quick succession exploded against the lead Humvee’s hood and rear door, their blasts bringing the Blackwater breakout to a halt.

Trapped without their lead vehicle! The oil company employees in the cars began to scream in despair, while the accompanying Blackwater mercenaries thrust their weapons out the windows, firing madly at Hou Rui’s team and the rocket gunners—emptying one magazine after another without hesitation. Anything that moved in their field of vision became a target. This was Blackwater’s unyielding fighting spirit in the face of death.