Boom!
The third shell was fired immediately. With the second shot as a reference, there was no suspense this time—the third shell struck its target directly.
However, the third tank didn't explode like the second one. Still, judging by its lopsided turret, it wasn't in good shape either.
With two tanks disabled, Owen and Heartbeat began coordinating with Bayev to sweep the remaining infantry. Bayev's 7.62mm dual machine gun kept roaring, a scythe in Death's hand—wherever the rounds passed, devastation followed.
The tide had turned in an instant!
Previously battered guerrilla fighters now emerged from their hiding spots. Tank suppression had kept them pinned, firing blind shots from cover. But now, with their greatest threat eliminated, it was time for payback.
Guerrillas surged from the front, Omega and the tank pressing from the rear—the Serbian soldiers were caught in a pincer attack. Some took cover behind the wrecked tanks to fight back, others broke ranks and fled.
Those who showed even the slightest will to resist became immediate targets for Bayev and Swagg. Soon, the Serbian forces completely collapsed. A soldier, trying to rise and take aim, had his skull blown apart the next instant. Swagg worked the bolt, ejected the casing, and shifted his scope to the next target without pause.
The snow-covered ground had long since turned muddy from the landmine blasts. Now, it was soaked in blood as well—disgusting, filthy.
Several Serbian soldiers attempted a desperate charge. Bayev swung the machine gun around and unleashed a hail of bullets. The rounds plowed through their bodies—each of them dropped in their own puddles of blood.
Against overwhelming firepower, courage meant nothing.
Finally, the dual machine gun fell silent. The barrel had overheated after prolonged use. Bayev had no choice but to stop; pushing it further might blow the barrel or cause a backfire.
He jumped off the tank and took his RPK from Owen. The rhythmic tutututu of the rifle echoed again. Not as fierce as the dual machine gun, but deadly enough.
…
While the battlefield raged outside, a fierce argument erupted inside the guerrilla stronghold.
"Sneydar! This is all because of him. It's because of him that Bourbon is attacking us like a madman!"
"Shiloh, remember who we are. We're guerrillas—opponents of Bourbon. We are sworn enemies. With or without him, Bourbon was never going to spare us."
"But Sneydar—"
"Enough."
The man called Sneydar, clearly the guerrilla leader, cut them off. He scanned the room. The moment his gaze passed over the others, all debate ceased—it was clear he held great authority.
"Comrades, Bourbon is our enemy. He massacres our people and our warriors. We'll keep fighting until he falls. The enemy of our enemy is our friend. Shiloh is right—Bourbon's all-out attack is because of him. But has anyone thought about why?"
Sneydar pointed at Chris as he spoke. Chris looked bewildered. He didn't understand the language they were arguing in, but it was obvious that one faction resented him while another was defending him.
Chris was conflicted. He had considered escaping during the chaos, but this was their base camp—he'd likely be caught before he even left the perimeter.
"American," the elderly leader suddenly switched to English, startling Chris. "Tell me. Why is Bourbon hunting you? Don't say you don't know. You saw their attack yourself."
Chris froze for a second—then lit up with joy. He hadn't expected to find someone here who spoke English.
"I think… it's because I caught evidence of their chemical weapons manufacturing."
BOOM!
Before Sneydar could respond, an explosion shook the ground. It sounded close—close enough that the whole floor trembled. A soldier rushed in frantically.
"Sneydar! We can't hold out much longer. They've brought in tanks, powerful ones. Our mines are useless!"
Upon hearing this, Sneydar didn't hesitate. He grabbed a young fighter nearby and instructed him firmly.
"Bool, get the American out of here. Make sure he gets out safely. As long as he lives, it will strike the greatest blow against Bourbon."
The young man nodded and motioned for Chris to follow. Chris quickly thanked Sneydar and darted after his new escort.
Only when Chris was out of sight did Sneydar turn back to the others.
"If the American pilot successfully gets that evidence back to the USA, it'll be all over the news. Even if we're gone by then, even if Bourbon wins today—he'll be finished. The international community will never tolerate a lunatic who casually produces chemical weapons."
His vision of the future gave the others a brief sliver of hope. But deep down, everyone knew the truth—this might be the end. Their stronghold had never faced an assault of this scale. Bourbon's forces were attacking from two sides with everything they had.
The explosions were getting closer, gunfire more intense, and the roar of machine guns barely stopped. There was no way the guerrillas could produce that level of firepower.
Sneydar dared not imagine what was happening outside. His comrades—people who once believed as he did, who rose to fight against oppression—were now being crushed by iron beasts. And he could do nothing.
Any fleeting joy in the room was quickly extinguished.
Suddenly, cheers erupted from one of the directions under attack.
The commanders in the meeting looked at each other in confusion. Moments later, their scout returned.
"Commander! Reinforcements have arrived!"
Everyone stared, bewildered. Reinforcements? What reinforcements? I'm the leader, thought Sneydar—how do I not know about this?
Moments later, several soldiers walked in surrounded by guerrilla fighters. At the front was Herman. He spotted Sneydar and hurried forward.
"Father…"
Omega's entire squad looked stunned. The big bearded man was clearly the commander here. Herman had just called him "father."
"What's going on? Who are they?" Sneydar asked. His tone showed concern, but there was no display of fatherly affection. His first instinct was to ask about Omega's identity.
"Father, they're Americans—or maybe from another country. They're looking for that pilot. I was captured by Bourbon's men during reconnaissance. They saved me. They're strong. They've fought off Bourbon's troops several times along the way. Just now, they hijacked an enemy tank and destroyed two others. They led our fighters to completely wipe out the enemy force…"
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/Mutter
For every 50 Power Stones, one extra chapter will be released on Saturday.