Chapter 50: Proud Bones

No one knew what kind of battle they had experienced. Both sides engaged in a tug-of-war and guerrilla warfare in the dense forest, stretching 235 kilometers deep. Even in the pitch-black night, gunfire clashes and the explosion of Russian high-explosive grenades could still be heard amid the mountains and dense forest, mixed with the screams of soldiers being hit, but they vanished in an instant.
A week later, the entire special operations squad composed of senior Chechen professional soldiers lost contact with the base.
Nine bodies scattered across the 235-kilometer-long southern mountains of Russia—this was undoubtedly the toughest battle between Zhanxiage and Zhao Haiping. This group of Chechen soldiers formed a hunting squad with rich combat experience, mastery of jungle warfare, and seamless coordination. They stayed firmly behind Zhanxiage and Zhao Haiping, and under their guidance, every day helicopters swaggered over the jungle to launch a deadly heavy machine gun barrage on Zhanxiage and Zhao Haiping.
Every day, Alamiri personally oversaw the helicopter, and bodyguard captain Ma Kai-shek piloted it. After a relentless bombardment, they would send in a squad of armed members, including religious fanatics and terrorists from the "Assassin Organization," Chechen rebel soldiers, and a small number of Afghan guerrilla fighters. Under the guidance of several senior Chechen soldiers forming a vanguard squad, Zhan Xiagoge and Zhao Haiping were truly exhausted from running around.
Finally, the veteran who chatted with John Mitchell and used a wooden pipe to smoke cow dung and corncobs—the captain among the soldiers—also collapsed limply in the jungle.
The veteran's successor buried his body deep in the mountains on the spot. Beside him, he saw a wooden pipe shattered by bullets. This veteran had made a habitual mistake. In the pitch-black night, Zhanxiage's right eye was far more focused than most. On a hillside 400 meters away, he used an AK automatic rifle and, without any optical scope, shot and killed all his comrades. Exhausted and furious, he still dared to single-handedly hunt down Zhanxiage and Zhao Haiping.
The bullet came down from a high altitude, shattering the wooden pipe the veteran was holding in his mouth with just one shot. The highly lethal AK-47 rifle bullet shattered the pipe and shot diagonally into the veteran's chest.
Amirali's expression grew increasingly gloomy, and the commander of the Chechen anti-government armed forces was wide-eyed every day, slamming tables and shouting, ready to draw his gun and shoot at his entourage, while the Afghan guerrilla commander sat there every day, silently wiping his gun.
Hidden deep in the mountain base, a layer of oppressive gray shrouded only two people: John Mitchell, the "Battlefield Golden Retriever," and his photographer.
Although they brought solar charging panels, the sunlight exposure was limited, so they had to save precious electricity for the camera. John Mitchell was airlifted daily to a guerrilla camp. After eating dinners worse than pig feed, he would lean on a table made of thick logs by the dim yellow glow of an oil lamp, writing furilessly without looking up.
"They drew boundaries for the land, ruled the mountains as their kings. When he returned to the world from the deep mountains, covered in smoke and wounds, they officially raised their banners! These two soldiers, who had just emerged from beneath the scythe of the Death God of Hell, repeatedly raised their huge red battle flags, stained again and again with the blood of both the enemy and themselves! Believe me, no one foolishly fights in the dense jungle against Chinese soldiers who are more cruel than lone wolves, more cunning than foxes, and more deadly than snakes, because that is like dancing with the Grim Reaper at the gates of hell! ”
"After two Chechen wars, Chechen anti-government forces, members of 'assassin organizations' once active in Chinese border cities, and Afghan guerrillas with rich combat experience, grit their teeth and relentlessly hunt down Chinese soldiers worth hundreds of millions of dollars. Yet, in the jungle, they repeatedly leave behind countless corpses, suffering heavy losses under the almost miraculous military skills of Chinese soldiers."
"Oh my god, those two Chinese soldiers have appeared alive in our sight again......
"They are dragons, tigers, madmen, beasts, unkillable ghosts, the god of death that every soldier and warrior cannot defeat!" Look: around him, all around were bloodshot Chechen anti-government guerrilla fighters, ready to avenge their brothers. Behind him, hundreds of armed fighters armed with automatic weapons, trained in formal military affairs, and even those who had endured long-term warfare pursued him relentlessly, vowing to leave him with no place to be buried. In the mountainous areas still controlled by Chechen rebel militants, we can even see Chechen guerrilla helicopters searching the mountains despite the possibility of Russian air force attacks. As long as they spot their enemies—even suspicious targets—they generously and generously unleash large amounts of heavy machine gun bullets, rocket launchers, and even wooden-handled grenades. But...... Time and again, they emerged, raising the iron-blooded battle flag in their hands—a symbol and a spiritual belief—proudly declaring to the enemy: Hey, come again, we're still alive! ”
The entire global media industry is going crazy!
John Mitchell had already written every complimentary word he could think of, along with his excitement, respect, and incredibility. Within less than twelve hours, these press releases, filled with Western scholars' exaggerated imaginations and even romantic thinking, were distributed freely into the hands of everyone following the event.
But what truly drives the world crazy is the ever-reddening battle flag!
Everyone sitting in front of the TV couldn't help but cover their mouths and exclaim, "Oh my god, they're still alive! That red flag is still flying!" ”
Yes, Zhan Xiaga and Zhao Haiping are still alive. The red battle flag in their hands has been shattered by bullets through the relentless days of fierce fighting. But when Zhan Xiaga or Zhao Haiping proudly stands on the hill, fluttering in the wind, stirring up a fiery intensity and passion, that vivid red is like a rising sun, so brilliant that people dare not look directly!
Sitting in a helicopter, facing the vast forest below, you really can't capture or see anything. Yet John Mitchell and his photographer still rush over punctually every day, joining Amirali in routine intensive shooting, then having hundreds of millions of viewers worldwide silently pray "May the Lord bless you," watching as a group of armed men jumps off the helicopter, instantly swallowed by the green world.
But John Mitchell and his photographer are still enthusiastically taking photos of the forest and mountains beneath their feet. If you haven't watched TV in a long time and have watched footage broadcast live on satellite channels, you'd probably think that nowadays, the directors of world, national, and regional TV stations have all gone crazy, simultaneously broadcasting a dull mountain scenery program that only a fool would sit in front of their TV to watch.
Everyone was waiting—waiting for that provocative, masculine masculine flag, filled with the unwavering spirit of Chinese soldiers, once again fluttering in the wind in a corner of the mountains, with the posture of a ruler who rules the world.
If you haven't seen those two Chinese soldiers' faces covered in disguise, the proud smiles of a lifetime without regrets, or seen them standing tall despite their scars, still carrying a majestic figure like towering mountains, you won't know what it means to be a real man!
Amid the men's hysterical howls and the women's near-frenzied screams, the two Chinese soldiers waved their iron-blooded battle flags, standing proudly toward the rising sun atop the mountain. When the camera captured them, they were bathed in golden sunlight, looking like battle angels blessed by the Nine Heavens War God!
They truly don't know how many boys in this world still dreaming of heroes can imitate their smiles, nor do they know that their majestic mountains, their vastness like the earth, their proud pride like peerless divine weapons can make countless young girls in this world scream wildly and shed tears.