On Route 334, Kamala sits in a Mercedes G5OO bulletproof jeep in the middle of the convoy, and the fireball in front of him scares his cigars into his crotch.
"What's going on, isn't it a ghost group" He got up from the back seat in a panic and hit his head on the roof of the car, plus he was already injured, and immediately grinned in pain.
"Go back, go back," he yelled at the driver, "I said you're going back."
Now he gets nervous when he hears the word "ghost group".
The Mercedes-Benz G5OO retreated and crashed into the pickup truck behind, and the convoy behind suddenly huddled together and couldn't move.
The convoy ahead was in disarray, gunfire erupted, and soldiers screamed as they ran.
Kamala ordered his guards: "Go down and let them go to the front, don't get in my way, and call Aydosan over and ask him what is going on."
It wasn't until the car behind kept bypassing the Mercedes G5OO and driving forward that Kamala finally breathed a sigh of relief, sat back in his seat, and quickly bounced out of his seat with a scream.
"Something burned me" he slapped his buttocks, it turned out that due to nervousness, the cigar fell on the seat, and he sat on it again, burning his pants with a big hole.
After tossing and turning for a while, finally settling down, Kamara took out a handkerchief and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.
From last night to now, he has lost more than 800 troops, of which the explosion of the ammunition depot in the base camp alone has killed and injured more than 400 people, and in the pursuit of the ghost team in the jungle, countless people have been killed by the explosion and machine gun fire, and the ghost team is like cutting straw, cutting his men one stubble after another.
From the bottom of his heart, Kamara had long given up the idea of revenge on the ghost group, no matter how this account was calculated, he even regretted reaching an agreement with Abe Shin and those people, if it weren't for these damn Japanese to let themselves attack Bo, hold the British soldiers hostage, and divert the attention of the British side, I'm afraid they wouldn't have attracted the damn ghost team, and they wouldn't have ended up in the field they are in today.
Now that the hostages are gone, and he has killed and injured so many people, even if he can really destroy this mercenary group, what benefit can he get As a local warlord in Africa, he understands that speculation is always the key to success, and that soldiers, weapons, and territory are his bargaining chips, and if he has bargaining chips, he can negotiate terms with those pretentious government officials.
Now he is like a gambler sitting at the gambling table, the first few games were completely lost, but he was unwilling to leave the game like this, and more importantly, he knew very well the ability of these Japanese, if he violated the agreement between the two sides, I am afraid that there would be no good fruit to eat.
The thought of sitting on the crater made Kamala's sweat drip down again.
"General" Aidosan trotted to the car, "We were ambushed by the ghost group. ” "Ambush" Kamara's cheek muscles trembled twice: "How's it going?"
"No problem, there are only three of them, and it won't last long." ” "Ahh "But," said Aydosan, whose face suddenly became unsightly, and he stopped talking.
Kamala immediately became nervous: "But is there something else wrong with it?"
Aidosan pointed ahead, swallowed his saliva, and said, "The Japanese group is all dead."
"What" Kamala almost jumped out of the back seat again, "all dead" Aidosan nodded with difficulty, and said with great certainty: "All dead" He glanced at Kamala, who was covered in sweat, and said cautiously: "General, what should we do now?"
Kamara was in a trance, sitting in the car like a lost soul, and he didn't say a word for a long time, and suddenly, like a cat that had been stepped on by the tail, he jumped and said: "What should I do, you ask me what to do Now you have to kill the mercenaries of the ghost team first, otherwise how can we get out" He suddenly pulled out his Derlinger pistol, clicked the bolt open, opened the door, got out of the car in a rage, limped to the front, and cursed as he went.
"Damn the Jap killed me, this time I'm really losing a lot" In the ditch on the side of the road, the king finished firing a magazine and shouted: "Change the magazine" He crouched in the ditch and felt for the RAV tactical vest on his chest, but only touched one magazine.
He froze for a moment, then suddenly snorted and laughed, pulled it out neatly, knocked it on the helmet, and inserted it into the 4A1 bayonet.
"I only have the last magazine left," he said to the duke, who was crouching in front of him.
"This is also my last drum," the Duke cursed as he fired, "there are too many of them, we need more firepower" Before he finished speaking, there was a sudden muffled sound, and the man fell straight back.
The "duke" king climbed to the duke's side while firing with a gun in one hand, only to see that the duke's neck was pierced by an AK bullet, and blood gushed out like a fountain.
"Uh-uh" Duke seemed to speak, but couldn't say anything, the bullet cut the artery and trachea, and he didn't make a single note at all.
The "Duke" King stretched out his hand and pressed the wound hard, he knew that this was futile, and it was estimated that it would only delay the survival time of more than ten seconds.
If a bullet pierces a carotid artery at this distance, the blood will spurt out more than half of the blood in the body in half a minute, and it can kill a person in less than two minutes.
"We'll see you in hell" The duke desperately squeezed out a smile, and after saying these words, his head tilted, the scene in his eyes froze, his pupils suddenly dilated, and he was not breathing.
"fuck" the king pounded the ground like crazy, "a few meters away by the ditch, the poet looked at all this, and a trace of sadness flashed in his eyes, but soon he was like a stone thrown into the sea, and was instantly drowned by the stormy waves.
A group of soldiers, seeing that the gunfire had subsided, thought that there was an opportunity, and divided into three groups and began to move forward along the side of the road.
"You pigs," the king picked up the 249 left by the duke, and began to shoot one by one, and the rebels of the three groups, a dozen or so men, were knocked over six at once, and the others hurried into the rocks and bushes by the roadside like bereaved dogs.
All of them A few muffled sounds were heard.
"Shelling" the poet shouted, lying in the ditch with his head in his hands.
Several mortars also stopped test firing and fired a salvo directly, and mortar shells began to rain down.
Boom, boom, boom The place where the king and the poet were located was suddenly dusty and a large cloud of smoke rolled up.
The gunfire finally stopped completely.
Dozens of shells were fired, and Aydosan waved his hand to signal the artillery to stop firing: "Stop" He took two steps forward, stretched out his head to look over there, suddenly remembered something, and pulled a soldier next to him, "Go, go to the front and see if the ghost team is dead."
The soldier looked frightened and stupid, and kept cowering, and muttered, "This and this," his voice trembled, and his legs trembled.
Cha Aidosan pulled the bolt of the pistol and put it on his men's heads, "If you don't go, I'll send you to God now."
"Yes, yes" In the eyes of everyone, the hapless rebel soldier held the AK47, swallowed his saliva with difficulty, and moved towards the king's position step by step
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