Petrovsky knows he no longer has time to hesitate.
"Abandon 'Canyon No.1'!"
He ordered decisively, "All units, change route! Head northeast into the 'Yellow Plain'! Increase vehicle speed to the safety limit! 'Hawkeye,' proceed with the drone, scout five kilometers ahead in a fan formation, focusing on searching for ground vehicle tracks, heat sources, and possible sniping points! 'Signal,' continue trying to contact Central Command, update our position and route changes!"
"Understood!"
The convoy changed course again, leaving this crisis-ridden mountain area and heading towards the vast wasteland.
The sky is brightening at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The eastern horizon gradually turns reddish-orange, as darkness ebbs away like the tide.
Dawn is breaking.
Song Heping glanced at the light outside the vehicle, his brow furrowing.
Daybreak.
This is definitely not good for the secret operation squad.
According to the original plan, they should have reached Latamira before dawn, then successfully completed the mission under the cover of darkness, quickly withdrawing into Illiguo territory, and safely retreating through Song Heping's militia forces there.
Now everything seems messed up.
Encountering surprise after surprise, changing routes again and again.
This situation is most undesirable in any special operations mission.
It means everyone's luck is terrible today.
"Major, I still suggest you head towards the Kurdish Control Zone, go north, and follow the original Route A to Latamira."
Song Heping thought over it repeatedly and decided to remind Petrovsky on a tactical level.
After all, he and these SSO Special Forces are in the same boat.
"Song, stop speaking of your unrealistic fantasies. The sky is almost bright now, and in another hour, the visibility will be very high. Heading north is like throwing ourselves into the laps of the US Special Forces and Kurdish Armed militants, you must be crazy…"
Petrovsky didn't disappoint him.
He's still so stubborn.
"Damn."
Song Heping couldn't help but curse in Chinese.
But he was helpless.
He should have demanded command authority for the entire operation when communicating with Zhaoyi Valley.
Though that too was just his fantasy.
This mission is shrouded in mystery.
Said to be a rescue mission.
Now that Song Heping ponders over it, things increasingly don't add up.
These guys aren't going to rescue anyone.
"Boss, something's not right."
Hunter communicated with Song Heping in broken Chinese.
Over these years, following Song Heping, his Chinese conversational skills are quite intact, just too heavily accented, akin to a parrot mimicking speech.
"It is not right…"
Song Heping's gaze swept over the other SSO Special Forces soldiers in the vehicle.
"We might not be going to rescue anyone."
Saying this, he looked at Hunter, his gaze meaningful.
Hunter sneered, "Da Maozi's style is like this, stubborn and aggressive."
In Hunter's mouth, there's never a good word for Da Maozi.
"As always, we're here now, so let's be cautious," Song Heping once again admonished Hunter, "If anything happens, we need to coordinate well ourselves. They won't listen to us."
"Okay."
Hunter deeply understood Song Heping's tactical prowess, which was not comparable to someone like Petrovsky.
Following Song Heping's orders would never be wrong.
Here's the continuation according to your request:
While Song Heping and Hunter were having a quiet conversation in the vehicle, just a few dozen kilometers behind them, the pass that had just experienced a brief and bloody skirmish welcomed new, unexpected guests.
The roar of engines shattered the pre-dawn stillness, as more than twenty various vehicles—rusted pickups, off-road vehicles equipped with steel plates and heavy machine guns, and even a few military trucks captured from the government army—like a pack of hyenas smelling carrion, kicked up yellow dust, menacingly converging on the site.
Their bodies sprayed with menacing black flags and religious slogans, marking their identity—"Islamic State" fighters.
They swiftly disembarked, spreading out in a loose battle formation, controlling the surrounding high ground and advantageous positions.
Several leader-like figures headed straight for the battlefield that had been hastily cleared.