"They have too many people..."
Naxin crawled to Song Heping's side, leaned against a rock, and panted heavily, "Our numbers are dwindling..."
Song Heping glanced around.
The northern front no longer resembled its former state.
The sturdy rock barriers were repeatedly bombarded, flattened, and shattered.
The simple fortifications made of stones and sand were full of holes.
Beside him, out of the originally three hundred energetic members of the Suicide Squad, only...
About fifty remained.
These fifty men, all injured, were exhausted to the extreme.
Many were wrapped in bloody, filthy bandages, leaning against the bodies of their comrades, mechanically loading the last few bullets into empty magazines.
Ammunition, especially heavy machine gun rounds and RPGs, was running low.
Song Heping leaned against the only remaining half of a rocky formation, his shoulder numb and stiff from holding the gun for so long.
