Chapter 46: Tiger of the Dense Forest (Part 1)

Excluding the "assassin organization" member who was shot dead by the war hero song while carrying a rocket launcher, eight armed religious fanatics who had received military training at Afghan terrorist training camps and were willing to sacrifice for truth and "Allah" raised the "national flag" they established when the "xx National Congress" was held in Istanbul in 1992 to establish the "xx Listan International National Federation," singing their "national anthem" loudly, each one following the ropes on the helicopter. Jump into the battlefield beneath your feet, formed by endless mountains and dense jungle.
In front of the cameras, these religious fanatics wore resolute expressions. Before jumping onto the battlefield, each would shout slogans like "Sacrifice ourselves for Allah," "Fight for our holy war," and "Strive for our ideal kingdom." Each of these people wore white clothes as white as snow, their faces filled with tragic heroism. Without looking back, they jumped down from the helicopter along the ropes, somehow squeezing out a bit of the cold wind and the chilly air of the Yi River, as if a warrior had gone and never returned.
At this moment, Amirali once again displayed his extraordinary charm as a religious, spiritual, and practical leader. He said emotionally, "Did everyone see this? These are the warriors trained by our 'Assassin Organization'!" They are loyal and brave, and each of them, including myself, is always willing to dedicate ourselves for our justice and truth! For the happiness of millions of our compatriots, for our holy war, we will never submit to anyone. We are willing to take up our weapons and fight, to bleed and sacrifice, until we earn enough respect, until we finally establish an ideal kingdom of our own! ”
As a top battlefield reporter, John Mitchell faced Alamil's sudden preaching of his "doctrine," but his face was always filled with understanding, kindness, and he even nodded repeatedly to encourage him. But his partner, hidden behind the camera, showed a barely noticeable hint of mockery.
He and John Mitchell traveled all over the country—what kind of people hadn't they seen, what slogans hadn't they heard? Rationally analyzed, if we simply summarize Amirali's words, they are the classic "trinity political forces," discarding all disguises and lies. In plain terms, they are a group of extreme nationalists who aim for division, use religion as a guise, and terrorism as a means to act as a means of nobility.
What good things could there be in the mix of terrorists mainly composed of Afghan guerrillas and the Taliban regime that just caused the 9/11 attacks?!
A few minutes later, eight armed members of the "Assassin Organization" and Zhanxiage encountered each other in the jungle. Fierce gunfire rang out in the dense forest beneath the helicopter, mixed with the roar of grenades and grenades, and wisps of smoke curled up above the forest. Although he couldn't see the situation below, Alameili still announced with pride: "Within fifteen minutes, we'll see the bodies of those two Chinese soldiers!" ”
Ma Kai-shek, the captain of Alamil's bodyguards, couldn't help but show a wry smile. The eight religious fanatics sent out earlier were fearless, but they had only received a few months of military training in Afghanistan. Although they had interacted with armed police a few times in Chinese border cities, their combat experience against professional soldiers was almost zero. Facing two Chinese special forces elites who had long since thrown the Geneva Convention out of the blue and blatantly declared their battle flag stained red with blood, what advantages did they have besides having a few more men?!
When more than two hundred members of the joint forces arrived, they were in utter chaos. The bullet casings scattered everywhere proved that a brief but intense battle had taken place here. The bodies of eight "assassin organization" religious fanatics were scattered in various corners of the jungle, each with a deep bullet hole in their forehead. They were all killed with a single shot, but for some reason, each of them had an additional knife wound.
On the battle flag in the hands of Zhanxiage and the others, eight more blood-stained marks appeared.
After receiving the report from the joint pursuit force commander, Amirali's face turned ashen as he ordered a return. Facing the camera, he left a message: "I will make sure you see the bodies of those two Chinese soldiers. I swear in the name of Allah, I will do it!" ”
The next day, Amirari brought nine more "Assassin Organization" militants, along with John Mitchell and his cameraman, and boarded the helicopter.
Another 3,000 rounds of heavy machine gun bullets and dozens of rocket launchers bombarded the area, and then nine experienced "assassin organization" religious fanatics jumped into the jungle again.
When the combined pursuit unit of over two hundred arrived, they saw nine more bodies scattered in the jungle, and on Zhan Xiage's battle flag, nine more blood-stained marks appeared.
This time, Amirali didn't say anything to the camera. Faced with such an outcome, he wanted to promote the "assassin organization" to the world. His brilliant move to strike the Chinese government on the international stage ended up being a slap in the face. He truly had nothing more to say.
After returning to the remote mountain base, the supreme commander of the Chechen anti-government armed forces, united with the "Assassin Organization," said to Alamil: "Although your soldiers are brave, they have never received formal military training, nor combat experience. They lack good coordination and coordination, and don't know how to coordinate firepower. It's normal for them to take them down one by one in jungle warfare." How about this: tomorrow I'll assign a squad of soldiers who have experienced two independence wars and have extensive jungle guerrilla warfare experience. ”
Amirali pondered for a moment, then nodded. He couldn't care who killed those two Chinese soldiers anymore; the most important thing was that they had to eliminate them in the shortest possible time. The longer they delay for one more day, the more their color will decrease.
On the third day, boarding the helicopter was a team of experienced and well-coordinated Chechen rebel soldiers. These soldiers who survived two Chechen wars were all battle-hardened elites. After most of the Chechen rebels were wiped out in the Second Chechen War, they hid deep in the mountains, relying on the mountains and dense forests to continue resisting government forces. They were a group of professional experts skilled in jungle guerrilla warfare.
To quote John Mitchell's speech to the camera, "This has evolved from a game between professional soldiers and militia to a brutal showdown between professional soldiers!" ”
John Mitchell shouted into the microphone, "I have to admit, I'm afraid of them!" I was afraid of their attitude, afraid of their gaze, afraid of the dagger they were playing with. Believe me, they are a group of real soldiers who kill without blinking, and who knows how many lives they've already taken! If you could stand in front of them, you, like me, would feel uncomfortable all over, because they constantly radiated something cold enough to send chills down your spine. If you still want to live, you'd better stay away from them! ”
Before the helicopter took off, John Mitchell interviewed a Chechen soldier who was slowly wiping his rifle, with a huge pipe dangling from his mouth. As red sparks flickered in the pipe, the pungent smell of smoke drifted through the cramped cabin.
"Ahem...... So annoying! John Mitchell asked in Russian, "What kind of tobacco are you smoking?" ”
This soldier was a genuine veteran, probably in his forties. On his weathered face was a calmness that disregarded life and death. Facing John Mitchell's question, he gently blew out a smoke ring and answered without looking up: "It's not a tobacco leaf. Our supply lines are currently blocked, and I can only stay in this deep mountain area. I haven't found any tobacco leaves in a long time. I smoked dry cow dung!" ”
Dry cow dung!
John Mitchell's eyes widened in shock, inhaling the pungent smell. His throat churned up and down for a long time before he could barely suppress the urge to vomit.