Nicknamed "Desert Ant," Wayebach Dioufla sat in the SA34 "Gazelle." He belonged to a South African mercenary company called EO! (Executive Outcomes!)
They didn't care who their clients were. As long as you paid, you just had to consider what position you wanted to sit in and how.
Having participated in many coups, they had rich combat experience.
"I hate the ocean!" Wayebach looked down at the rolling waves below and muttered. Just from hearing his name, you could tell he was suited for desert combat.
"Proceed according to plan. Popeye, you break in from the northwest corner of the island, establish a fire network on the spot, don't go deep!" He pressed his earpiece and ordered.
"Understood!"
A Bell 214 flew toward the designated location.
That was a rocky beach. The mercenary nicknamed Popeye grabbed the handrail and boldly leaned his body out, squinting to look around. He made a gesture to the pilot, signaling him to land below.
"Everyone prepare!"
The sound of bullets being chambered immediately filled the cabin.
"God bless!"
"After earning this job, I can buy my daughter a piano."
"Amen!"
The mercenaries were quite calm, having seen life and death and warfare, the more they experienced, the more composed they appeared.
For them, this was just an ordinary island assault operation. They heard the target was even a police officer. In Africa, they had fought warlords. Did police have more firepower than warlords?
The Bell 212 found a place to land. As soon as Popeye got off the aircraft, he felt something was wrong. It seemed... too quiet!
The sound of seawater washing made him feel uneasy.
Watching the 17 team members begin setting up firepower on the rocky beach, he was about to press his earpiece to report when suddenly, he saw a red line appear in the sky.
Signal flare!
This word instantly appeared in Popeye's mind.
Then a large number of illumination rounds shot up into the sky, instantly brightening it.
The mercenaries on the rocky beach looked somewhat confused.
"Charge! Charge in!" Popeye reacted quickly. It was impossible to retreat now; they could only charge forward.
"Póngalo! (Fire!)"
600 meters behind the rocky beach, ten M-30 122mm howitzers were positioned. With the command given, the neatly arranged howitzers fired simultaneously.
Artillery fire directly covered the rocky beach.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
That expensive Bell 212 was directly blown to pieces.
Wayebach in the distant sky stared wide-eyed. He had sensed something was wrong when he saw the illumination rounds. Looking at the flames rising in the distance, he knew a mercenary squad was finished.
"Fly over there, blow them up! Damn! Where did the police get artillery?"
The pilot flew the helicopter, which carried two missiles. As long as they found the artillery position and gave them a shot, everything would be OK!
"Watch out for ground anti-aircraft!" The technician on the SA34 "Gazelle" suddenly shouted. As soon as he finished speaking, they saw a string of bullets shooting up from below with a rat-a-tat-tat sound.
The pilot, who usually coordinated well with the technician, suddenly pulled the control stick, but someone in the cabin didn't stand steady, stumbled, and fell directly out of the open cabin door. The screaming stopped abruptly with a dull thud.
"Damn it, take it out! Take it out!" Wayebach shouted with red eyes, pointing at the twin anti-aircraft machine gun below.
The pilot's expression was grim as he pressed the launch button.
20mm cannons fired at the hidden anti-aircraft gun below, bullets hitting the ground and raising dust.
The twin machine gun immediately went silent. Before they could celebrate, they saw two figures appear on a nearby hill, shouldering "blowpipe" portable surface-to-air missiles. Wayebach was too familiar with this thing.
He had served in Britain himself.
Damn!
These were police?
"Evade! Evade!" Wayebach's voice became shrill.
Whoosh~
Blowpipe launched!
Regardless of the circumstances, flying a helicopter so low was just asking for death.
The pilot gritted his teeth, face flushed, Wayebach also stared wide-eyed, his gaze full of terror, but it was all useless.
They could only watch helplessly as the blowpipe hit the aircraft.
It disintegrated directly in mid-air.
Desert ants should stay in the desert. Coming to mid-air was just seeking death.
This also illustrated a principle: no matter how awesome you are on land normally, in the sky your life belongs to others.
In a prepared semi-underground command room.
Victor held binoculars watching the fireball in the distant sky fall into the sea, and happily slapped his thigh. "Not bad, record their merit. Promote them after the battle ends."
He had actually wanted to equip FIM-92, which is Stinger missiles.
But American stuff had too much high-tech, with complex charging systems and operating procedures, so he switched to blowpipe anti-aircraft missiles.
Casare looked at Victor like this.
He didn't know whether to call him Chief or General.
Anyway, loyalty was right.
"Chief, drug dealer landing forces have been discovered at other locations. Should we open fire?"
"Fire!"
...
More than 20 assault boats prepared to land from the dock.
They were about to reach shore.
AK-630M 30mm 6-barrel naval guns positioned on both sides of the dock opened fire.
Have you seen a fire network formed like this?
Direct random sweeping.
"Ah! Ah!! Ah!!" A young drug dealer crouched in the assault boat, not knowing where his gun had gone, his face covered in blood as he screamed in terror, the smell of urine emanating from his crotch.
He had pissed himself from fear!
Boss, you lied to me!
You said we were coming to fight police, but these are warlords!!
He wanted to go home, he wanted to find his mother. He stood up wanting to jump into the water. Just as he got up, bang~
His upper body was gone.
Turned into rain.
That lower body fell into the water, and marine life that had been waiting below swarmed up. In an instant, the area 300 meters in front of the dock became a forbidden zone.
Using naval guns to fight assault boats.
Who could do such a thing?
Of course, some were lucky.
EO company mercenaries made it ashore by luck, quickly lying prone and planning to crawl low, using the naval guns' blind spots to climb up.
Huh?
Suddenly something popped up ahead, with English written on it. The mercenary squinted and saw it read: "This is facing the enemy!"
Bang bang!
The explosion immediately threw him into the air.
His dying thought: "Damn, claymores on the shore!!!"
Victim mode activated.
Victor had placed 40 claymore mines here at the dock. This thing didn't explode just when stepped on - if you touched this area, it would also explode.
After this one exploded, it caused a chain reaction, blowing up nearby mercenaries until they were bloody and lying on the ground howling while clutching severed legs.
As for what to do about remaining landmines later?
Let the drug dealers roll around!
Spread out their hands and roll back and forth on them.
...
The successive explosion sounds terrified the residents of Guadalupe Island.
Many people hid under covers trembling.
In war, civilians had no choice but to pray that shells had eyes.
Of course, some were bold enough to lie by windows and watch.
"The helicopter was shot down!" Good friend Campos shook Santos's arm, slightly excited.
Explosions were a man's romance.
Santos also nodded excitedly. "I told you Mr. Victor could protect the island. When I grow up, I must join his team."
Campos hesitated. "Then I'll also apply to police academy."
"Will your parents agree?"
"If they don't agree, I'll scare them with Mr. Victor!"
Santos looked at him strangely - truly a filial son.
"Then I'll drive tanks in the future, and you can be my assistant."
Campos nodded but said puzzledly, "Does Mr. Victor have tanks? Isn't he a police officer?"
"Who says police can't have tanks? Haven't you seen those rocket launchers? What the Mexican government has, Mr. Victor has. What they don't have, Mr. Victor also has."
"Really amazing. I'd say Mr. Victor is like an emperor on TV." Campos opened his mouth.
Santos interrupted him. "No! Sir advocates bright justice. Emperor is feudal remnant - that's simply slander."
Seeing his buddy so excited, Campos pursed his lips. "I was just joking."
What era was this? Where were there still emperors?
Oh, Africa still had some!
Why couldn't Mexico?
Stephanie watched the distant artillery fire with her little eyes, hearing those booming sounds in her ears, only feeling noise and panic.
She tilted her head to look at Dexter at the door. "Dad, why do boys all like these sounds?"
Dexter touched her head, looking at those two half-grown boys with a complex expression. "Because people who don't know fear worship war, while real men oppose war."
"What about Mr. Victor? Is he a man?"
Dexter took a deep breath. "He's stopping war!"
(End of Chapter)
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