Chapter 63: Wolf Assault

On this blue planet, in a small corner beneath this blue sky, there is a vast and boundless desert.
In this lifeless, hopeless desert, there is a tiny sandbag just over four meters tall; Beneath this small sandbag was a little straw figure draped in a green military uniform, with Afu's favorite round hat draped over his head, his chest likely where his heart was located, and a tiger-tooth combat saber stuck in his mouth.
Behind that small straw man lay a tattered old soldier lying quietly!
This veteran carried a thick smog of gunpowder that even the hurricanes of the desert could not blow away. His face, wrinkled like a dried orange peel, resembled the Russian military telescope and water bottle whose lacquer skin had long since peeled off, carrying a sense of hardship and hardship. Though old, it still radiated a dignity and pride that would never be disrespected!
Zhanxiage's gaze fell on the Afghan guerrilla leader. He looked intently at this veteran soldier, carefully examining his calloused black, large, and thin hands yet as strong as eagle talons, and carefully examining the glorious marks on his exposed skin that could only belong to the battlefield; He carefully examined the placement of every piece of equipment and weapon on this veteran's body.
This veteran had a unique tear wound on his abdomen, characteristic of a tiger-tooth combat saber. Beneath him, a long-dried blood clot was evident in a strange black-purple color. Judging by the wound, this veteran, now in his sixties, had been dead for about ten hours, yet his eyes remained wide open, staring intently in the direction from which Zhanxiage and Zhao Haiping had come, despite the constant blow of the desert wind.
Zhanxiage looked at this old soldier who died with unwilling eyes, waiting for the enemy's last glance. At some point, a trace of almost pityful sorrow appeared in his eyes.
"Zhao Haiping...... Zhan Xiaoge took a gentle breath and suddenly asked, "Don't you think the two of us look very alike?" ”
Zhao Haiping looked at the old, dark, and thin Afghan guerrilla leader—if not dead, he looked like a mummified corpse. Looking at the war hero's song, he really couldn't see anything in common between the two.
"He is a good soldier, a good captain, and above all, a pure man!"
At some point, tears had slowly gathered in Zhanxia Ge's eyes. He was already strong and invincible, and he was convinced he would never cry for an enemy who fought desperately on the battlefield. He had never been the kind of aquatic creature who cried and whined at the drop of a hat, overly sentimental, but at this moment, he truly could no longer control himself.
"Haiping, did you see that? You're here with your eyes wide open and waiting for us, because he has something to say to us."
Zhao Haiping's eyes widened, but he couldn't see anything.
"Haiping, did you hear that? He's asking us with the dignity and pride of a soldier."
Zhao Haiping perked up his ears, but apart from the scorching waves of air unique to the vast desert and the humming sound made by the roughly handmade straw doll, he couldn't hear anything.
The war hero Ge gazed blankly at a unique, lonely footprint stretching into the distance. That old soldier died with eyes wide open, his right index finger pointing in that direction!
This old soldier didn't say a word, left no words, but with his body, his will, his pride, he left behind his last wish in this world—a wish even Dansu, who was ordered to become a deserter with his Afghan scimitar...... Let go of his children, let them be the last members of this guerrilla force!
Zhanxiage slowly raised his right hand and offered the most solemn and sincere salute to this elder who was older than his father, to this true soldier, to this pure man.
He would rather die on the battlefield wrapped in horsehide than lie in a hospital bed with his eyes closed!
He would rather die himself, better to abandon his dignity as a man and soldier to plead with the enemy, just to let his brothers and soldiers escape!
In these respects, his battle heroic song bears an astonishing resemblance to this veteran Afghan guerrilla soldier before him?! Looking at this soldier before him, whose strength radiated from head to toe, and the veteran who wore battlefield medals, how could Zhanxiage not feel a sense of sorrow rising in his heart, like a rabbit dying and fox tragedy?!
Zhanxiage slowly drew his blood-soaked tiger-tooth combat saber. He gazed at the old soldier before him, who could not rest in peace, waiting for an answer. He said softly, "Go in peace, your child. If he is strong enough to overcome this vast desert, he can return alive to your homeland!" No matter what, regardless of success or failure, you Afghan guerrillas will always be the best soldiers, real men! I, Zhanxia Ge, respect you all! ”
Zhao Haiping's eyes widened in shock, because at that moment, the Afghan guerrilla leader's eyes had been wide open suddenly slowly closed.
When he finally closed his eyes, a battle-hardened veteran was gone. Lying quietly before them was an old, black, dry, and thin corpse, his graying hair and beard fluttering in the desert wind. And on his face, a trace of ...... actually appeared. Peace?!
Zhan Xiagege once again gazed deeply at the old soldier before him. Even though he laughed uncontrollably,
His wild laughter echoed across the vast desert. He pointed to the sky, laughed; he pointed to the ground, laughed; he pointed to the distant horizon where sky and earth merged into a line; he laughed at Zhao Haiping, he laughed at himself, laughing so hard the sky was dizzy, laughing madly. Just as Zhao Haiping's eyes widened, he twisted open the kettle, ready to pour all the fresh water into his mouth at any cost, when the war hero suddenly roared, "Zhao Haiping!" ”
Zhao Haiping instinctively straightened up and called out, "Here!" ”
"Have you ever seen wolves hunt creatures stronger than themselves?" Zhanxiage licked his lips lightly, a flash of sharpness almost enough to split gold and stone in his eyes. He said in a deep voice, "A few experienced wolves can defeat a wild boar with tough skin and thick flesh, even making tigers back away." They work together, using their agile bodies to launch ineffective harassment attacks on their prey from front, back, left, and right. They spin around wildly until the boar is dizzy and furious, finally exposing its weak spots. At that moment, they can launch the most intense attacks on the boar's belly or anus! They chased us for hundreds of kilometers in the desert. Now their strength is exhausted, and they're starting to retreat. Thirty years have passed, and now it's time for the two of us to understand what wolf assault tactics mean! ”
Two Chinese soldiers began a marathon-style wolf assault against a pursuit force formed by over a hundred 'assassin organizations' and Chechen rebel forces.
They kept moving two thousand meters away from the enemy. Although their automatic rifles couldn't hit their targets, every time they heard the crisp sound of gunfire, every member of the more than a hundred terrorists in the pursuit would jump up in shock. If they all jumped up and charged at the two Chinese soldiers, they would find that what they were chasing was basically two rabbits that could run fast in the desert. Apart from wasting a lot of energy and sweat, they had no real effect.
The terrorists had also formed squad-based pursuit units to counter Chinese soldiers' harassment tactics, but a squad of nine Chechen guerrillas with extensive combat experience chased after them. After a series of intense gunfire, the nine Chechen guerrillas never returned.
The figures of those two Chinese soldiers reappeared in the sight of the terrorist coalition. When gunfire rang out again from 1,800 meters away, a member of the "assassin organization" carefully collecting clean water from several plants with plastic bags collapsed to the ground.
Staring at the bullet wound still gushing blood from the unlucky man's forehead, the Chechen anti-government commander widened his eyes and let out a low, frustrated growl. The nine Chechen guerrillas responsible for the pursuit earlier were carrying sniper rifles. With a sniper rifle, a Chinese soldier could already accurately shoot every member of the company, including himself, the captain, from 1,800 meters away.
Chinese soldiers used sniper rifles for precise sniping, and AK automatic rifles for indiscriminate shooting, tossing Russian high-explosive grenades captured from Chechen partisans everywhere. Sometimes, they even stood at the wind, treating their combat knives and helmets like a bronze gong, banging them wildly. Even late at night, under the cover of the black night, they would sneak within a thousand meters, and after a barrage of wild, single-shot, and triple shots, they would leave smugly.
Anyway, they always found ways to startle the terrorist joint pursuit unit. When the terrorist joint pursuit unit was exhausted, exhausted, and exhausted, they would jump out, shout, jump, and jump, grabbing their combat sabers and helmets and banging wildly. If no one responded to their enthusiasm by then, they would immediately raise their sniper rifles and shoot once. If the terrorists were driven to the limit and formed a large force to pursue them, they would turn and run. There were very few who could compete in cross-country running with these two Chinese soldiers in the desert; If it were a small pursuing force, they would just turn and run, then find a place to strike back fiercely.
This was a protracted battle of mental and physical exhaustion. The terrorists lacked sufficient food and fresh water, and under the harassment tactics of Zhanxiage and Zhao Haiping, they had no energy to find water; Chinese soldiers are elusive, ready to be hit by a fatal bullet at any moment. In such situations, their nerves are stretched tight, making it impossible to relax, let alone get proper rest.
Through satellite TV, the terrorists swept through the desert like a swarm of locusts. Whenever they saw something green, they would indiscriminately stuff it into their mouths, mixed with the inevitable quarrels and fights after the snatching. Even the thick, hard roots of jujube trees were dug up and stuffed into their mouths without a second thought.
After losing the Afghan guerrilla leader who used his powerful personal charisma to unite everyone, just four days later, these hundred-plus terrorists had given up fighting Chinese soldiers, only knowing how to run desperately forward and that escaping the desert meant a chance to save their lives. The terrorists had completely become a pack of lost dogs.
"Bang!"
A gunshot rang out in the desert. As all the terrorists instinctively collapsed onto the sand, their mouths scorched by the scorching sand over sixty degrees Celsius, they suddenly heard a nearly maddened joyful shout: "I hit it, I hit it!" ”
A sand rabbit, weighing just over a jin, was struck in the waist by an AK rifle bullet and performed a spectacular waist slash. Staring at the sand rabbit's body still writhing in the desert, at the bloody, steaming red chunks of flesh, everyone couldn't help but swallow, their eyes glowing red.
Amid a nearly beast-like low growl, dozens of people swarmed at the poor rabbit in a swarm. The man running at the front looked like a football superstar, lunging forward with all his might, pinning a piece of rabbit meat firmly beneath him. Just as dozens of large hands lifted him up at once, his huge mouth opened wide and bit the still-pumping sand rabbit meat.
Leather boots, fists, and even the butt of his gun all slammed down on the man, but a trace of satisfaction appeared on his face, because he had used his two rows of teeth to tear off more than a hundred chunks of flesh, swallowing them straight into his stomach without chewing.
The terrorist, clutching a rifle still smoking from the muzzle, looked at his "companions" in a panic, stomping his feet and shouting hoarsely, "Hey, I hunted that wild rabbit! It's mine!" ”
At this moment, of course, no one paid him any attention!
A wild rabbit was instantly torn apart into twenty-seven or eight pieces by dozens of starving, blood-eyed terrorists. These people were like a pack of wild dogs, stuffing the bloody, warm chunks of meat into their mouths and chewing them heartily. Those who were slow to grab the rabbit meat would put their blood-stained fingers into their mouths and slowly suck it, while others would simply pounce and shove their fingers into others' mouths, digging and digging, trying to snatch the meat out.
"Tap tap tap......"