11 PM, deep in the night.
The convoy crept silently through the desolate night of the Siria desert.
The wheels crunched over gravel and dried shrubs, producing a muffled and continuous rustling, the only melody in the night.
The interior of the vehicle was dimly lit, with only the faint cold light from the instrument panel and each person's terminal screen illuminating faces disguised with camo paint, expressionless.
Heavy gear was firmly secured to well-suspended seats, swaying slightly with the vehicle's bumps.
Song Heping and Hunter shared the lead vehicle with Major Petrovsky, "Cold Blade" Sokolov, and "Hawkeye" Savelyev.
Hunter held his SV-98, eyes closed, resting, breathing evenly, as if asleep.
This was his habit.
But Song Heping knew that this seasoned sniper's senses were as precise as the most delicate radar, continually scanning the surroundings.
