At a distance of 1024 meters, the trajectory droop of the 7.62x54mm R bullet at this distance will be extremely exaggerated. The elevation required far exceeds the range of the scale on the PSO-1 scope's differentiation panel, almost relying on estimation and experience to virtually raise the aiming point to a far-off void above the target.
A side wind of 4-6 meters per second brings an equally astonishing windage correction; the target is not stationary, still moving slightly and turning...
This is a shot beyond limits.
The success rate is so slim it can be ignored!
He has only one chance to fire.
Once the trigger is pulled, the muzzle flash and sound will immediately reveal his exact location, and what follows is bound to be retaliatory, overwhelming firepower from the enemy.
So, shoot and run.
He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to calm his intense heartbeat and breathing.
All muscles relaxed, yet his mind was highly concentrated, striving to reach a mysterious state of "unity between man and gun."
The index finger lightly rested on the cold trigger, beginning to pre-pressure.
According to the data reported by the spotter and his own painstakingly honed experience and sense, he slightly, almost at millimeter-level, adjusted the direction and elevation of the muzzle.
This is not an easy task.
At super long-distance sniping, the pointed sight acts like a cheeky, restless child, constantly swaying with breaths and heartbeats.
In the scope, the coarse crosshair line does not aim at that blurred figure, but points to a high, empty sky above the figure, tilted significantly to the right side towards the wind's direction.
In reality, the pointed sight is not aimed at the person's body at all, as 1024 meters is beyond the calibration limit of the PSO-1 scope's differentiation panel.
...
One kilometer away, on the rooftop of the government building.
Abu Omar had just received an urgent communication from the southern Otaba camp.
Upon hearing that the camp was attacked by unidentified armored forces, International Mercenaries dispersed, and stacks of ammunition and supplies were destroyed and burned, his face instantly turned ashen, as if he had been punched hard in the abdomen!
"Commander! Otaba is lost! Our logistical support is completely gone! We must retreat immediately! Regroup and reorganize! Otherwise, if the enemies attacking Otaba move north, and the Halaib forces attack from behind, our main forces are in danger!"
A close aide whispered anxiously beside his ear, his voice filled with panic.
"Nonsense!"
Omar's expression changed unpredictably, struggling fiercely inside.
He suddenly turned his head, looking again at the close-by entrance three of Halaib, the gunfire there seemed to have thinned out, the forces' firepower visibly weakened, as if it could be breached at the next second.
The temptation of huge achievements and extreme reluctance, like a poison snake, consumed the last bit of his rationality.
"No!!! Halaib's forces can no longer counterattack! Just a little more! Just the last bit!!"
He almost hysterically shouted, suddenly turned around, snatched the spare binoculars handed by his deputy beside him, and yelled uncontrollably.
"No retreat! No one retreats! Let them continue attacking! Put all the forces into it! Halaib is about to..."
As he suddenly turned, raised his binoculars, attempting to observe the battlefield again, his head due to excitement and movement appeared relatively motionless for an extremely brief moment—
On the rooftop, Song Heping held his breath, all external clamors seemed to vanish instantly.
In his world, only the target, sight, breath, and the critical point of that cold trigger remained.
The fingertip felt that minute displacement.
This is it!
He pulled the trigger.
Bam—!!!
The distinctive crisp sound of the SVD gunshot suddenly broke through the morning mist.
The flame from the muzzle glowed like a suddenly blooming bouquet in the dim yet brightening morning light.
A slender 7N1 special sniper warhead, with an initial speed of 830 meters per second, spinning rapidly as it left the muzzle, then savagely tearing through the air, embarked on its unyielding death journey toward the target 1024 meters away.
The bullet needs about 1.3 seconds to fly.
In this brief yet incredibly long 1.3 seconds, this tiny warhead needs to overcome the immense droop caused by gravity, resist the continuous deviation brought by constant side winds, and undergo slight perturbations brought by varying air densities and temperatures...
Any minor variable could cause it to miss the target by thousands of miles over such a long distance.
Song Heping stared at the blurred target through the scope.
Time seemed infinitely stretched in his senses.
The spotter beside him also felt dry mouthed, swallowing dryly.
Soon after, both observed the figure holding up binoculars seemed to sway ever so slightly.
In the distance—
Just as Abu Omar raised binoculars, when his focus was about to shift back to the bloodshed entrance three—
Ploosh!
A faint yet deadly muffled sound, like striking a ripe watermelon, abruptly sounded!
The white Arabic headscarf on Omar's head suddenly flung backwards!
All of his motions abruptly froze, as if a sculpture suddenly enchanted with magic.
The binoculars in his hand slipped from his suddenly powerless grip, hit the cement railing at the edge of the rooftop with a "clack," bounced, then fell downwards, ultimately shattering.
A tiny yet extremely profound bullet hole quietly emerged at the center of his forehead, and a thread of crimson blood slowly seeped from the edge of the hole.
While at his occipital part, the scene was starkly different and terrifying—the bullet's immense kinetics and tumbling effect created a bowl-sized horrible cavity there, red and white paste and bone fragments sprayed out, splattering the close aide behind him, who was still speaking incessantly, all over his head and face!