"Kill you, you damn mongrel!"
James was powerless to refute Song Heping's words.
Because the other party was right.
After so many years and so many fights, they indeed had never won, and calling him a nemesis wasn't an exaggeration...
Song Heping's words had hit James's weak spot, enraging him even more.
The situation between the two of them was delicate.
Both had run out of firearms and were left with only bladed weapons.
Song Heping had sustained more injuries, while James had only a single wound on his palm.
However, his combat knife was now in Song Heping's hands, while he was left empty-handed.
As an experienced Green Beret, of course, he had more than one blade on him.
The combat knife was just one of them; there was also a karambit knife hidden in the pocket of his tactical vest.
The karambit knife's original design from early Indonesia was for harvesting, which is why it resembles a sickle, but after modification and development by fighting experts, it has been ingeniously applied to close-quarters combat.
The characteristics of this knife are twofold: one, its blade is short and curved, and two, there is a ring at the end of the handle that the finger slips through, acting as a stabilizer during combat, making it less likely to slip out of hand.
He slowly drew the karambit knife from his pocket, slipping it over his hand, and watched Song Heping intently.
The two squared off on the sandy riverbank.
For a time, neither took the initiative to attack.
Since both were experts, they were waiting for the other to make the first move, looking for an opening to strike a fatal blow.
Song Heping was no longer in a hurry now.
Time was on his side.
Dawn had broken.
His own people were about to arrive.
In contrast, James could also call for backup.
Unfortunately, his previous arrogance had made him forgo the opportunity, and now it was too late to call for help.
If Special Operations Command knew of his current predicament, they would surely send someone to rescue him.
The problem was, no one would expect that in less than a day, eight Green Berets would be wiped out by the head of an armed organization and an arms dealer.
"Are you a China Special Soldier?"
James couldn't help but ask a strange question.
Song Heping replied gravely, "What's the point of asking that? You're going to die anyway."
It wasn't that Song Heping was boasting.
James and he – only one of them could leave alive.
Because James had already seen his own fate.
If he survived, the CIA would quickly start tailing him.
This was definitely not good for him.
Therefore, from the moment the two of them had clashed, it was a deadlock.
"Such big words!"
Once again, James felt the humiliation from the young man before him, and he couldn't help himself – he finally initiated an attack.
However, he was very cautious, making a feint with practiced cunning. His karambit knife seemed to be slashing at Song Heping's wrist, but he was ready to switch his move midway. If Song Heping attempted to block with his knife, James would change the slash to a stab, aiming to add another cut to Song Heping's wrist.
This kind of mid-action switch in knife technique was something he had practiced countless times and counted as one of James's specialties.
He lunged forward in a flash, leaning his body, and the karambit knife swept towards Song Heping's wrist, waiting for him to fall for the feint.
Shah—
Unexpectedly, as he stepped forward with the fake move, a clump of river sand shot up against his face with a shush, hitting him squarely on the head and face.
In the moment he attacked, Song Heping had used the tip of his foot to kick up a mound of sand, projecting it towards James's face.
Taken completely by surprise, James's eyes were filled with countless grains of sand, instantly blurring his vision.
Just a moment.
That instant.
It was already too late for James to retreat.
Shua—
The sharp blade of the combat knife slashed across James's throat...
Song Heping moved back two meters, watching James coldly.
James clutched his throat, his eyes bulging out, bloodshot from the irritation of the sand, tears streaming down his cheeks.