4:30 AM. The night was black and the wind high.
On the southwest side of Klishchiivka Heights, in a forest 400 meters from the Ukrainian military’s defensive positions.
In a shell crater half a meter deep, Chen Ge—wearing Ukrainian MM14 winter camouflage, a Kolpak3 tactical vest, a MICH-2000 helmet, and Salomon combat boots, draped in a multispectral camouflage net—lay prone at the edge of the crater. The Sophie monocular thermal imager in his hand was mere decoration; his eyes saw more clearly than the device.
Night Cat, Lightbulb, and Manhole Cover lay at the bottom of the crater, pressed tight against the ground, similarly covered with multispectral camouflage nets to avoid detection by Ukrainian thermal imaging equipment.
Chen Ge had observed for an hour, working out the pattern of the Ukrainian military’s thermal imaging sweeps.
On average, once every five minutes, crossing sweeps, almost no blind spots.
Almost, but not absolute. After meticulous study, he found a route that would let Night Cat, Lightbulb, and Manhole Cover evade the thermal imaging.
He continued observing for another ten-plus minutes, then drew back, pulled the camouflage net over his head, touched the yellow tape wrapped around his arm and helmet, and said softly, “Do you trust me?”
Night Cat, Lightbulb, and Manhole Cover paused, looking at Chen Ge through their PVS-14 monocular night vision devices, and nodded in unison.
Lightbulb said softly, “That’s a given. You’re our brother, our squad leader. We follow your lead!”
Night Cat and Manhole Cover said nothing. Their gazes were calm, without a trace of doubt, as if Chen Ge were asking whether the sun would rise tomorrow.
Having fought alongside Chen Ge in Syria for eight months, they had saved his life, and he had saved theirs even more times.
And Chen Ge’s thinking was unique; he always devised tactics that made them reassess everything—extremely sneaky and underhanded, even despicable and shameless “alternative” tactics, so dirty they wondered whether they could truly have been conceived by a carbon-based lifeform.
For example, in June, they received a mission to wipe out an IS stronghold. Chen Ge discovered that the IS stronghold depended on the only well at the village entrance. He guided the Night Hawk reconnaissance team to obtain a barrel of industrial waste containing phenol, then at night crept to the well and poured it in.
Phenol dissolves in water, colorless and tasteless, but drinking it causes slow liver and kidney failure.
Three days later, the IS fighters in the stronghold began vomiting and diarrhea, their combat effectiveness halved. The Falcon Hunting Team launched a night raid and wiped out over 200 terrorists with zero casualties.
Many women and children in the stronghold also died. After the battle, the captain slaughtered the entire village to silence witnesses, erase traces, and prevent their use of chemical weapons from being exposed, and warned Night Hawk never to do such a dirty thing again.
Night Hawk took the blame and didn’t squeal that the idea had been Chen Ge’s.
Dirty tactics? As Chen Ge’s teammate, that provided considerable security.
Just follow his command, trust unconditionally, and you survive.
“You stay here, keep low, act on my instructions. Without my order, none of you steps out of this hole half a step.”
Chen Ge looked sharply at the three, giving them no chance to speak.
“You know I never do anything without certainty. I’m also a coward who loves life. Believe me—okay?”
Night Cat grabbed Chen Ge’s hand and shook his head. “No, too dangerous. If we die, we die together…”
“Shut up. No such jinx talk. I won’t die, and neither should you.”
Chen Ge shook off Night Cat’s hand and said, word by word, “Trust me, or doubt me. Which do you choose?”
The three hesitated for a moment, then, red-eyed, chose trust.
Lightbulb pressed his lips together; tears flowed despite themselves, and he said shakily, “Live! You have to live! If you die, I’ll post your nude photos online.”
Night Cat nodded. “Right, I have some too. I’ll post them on the Huaxia internet.”
Manhole Cover added, “And photos of you taking a shit.”
Damn, were they sick?
Chen Ge was speechless. He had no time to ask when the photos were taken. He opened the R-187-P1 handheld encrypted radio and checked communications.
Confirming communications were clear, Chen Ge punched each of the three in the chest and instructed, “Remember, follow my commands! And don’t tell anyone I’m operating alone tonight.”
The three nodded. Though they didn’t understand Chen Ge’s meaning, they didn’t ask why.
Chen Ge stood, leapt out of the crater, and rushed toward the east side of the Ukrainian military’s outer defensive positions.
Ahead of the forest was an open area about 400 meters wide, with no place to hide, and it was littered with all kinds of landmines.
In this situation, even the world’s top special forces would be helpless; the odds of sneaking across silently were infinitesimal!
But Chen Ge could.
Spider sense could precisely avoid landmines and also judge whether anyone was looking at him. Combined with his night vision and freakish speed, he crossed the open area in just thirty seconds, slipping into a patch of grass on the east side of the Ukrainian positions.
4:35 AM. Temperature 0°C. The Ukrainian troops on night watch were cold and tired, lying by the trench chatting desultorily.
After confirming his direction, Chen Ge began to stalk forward, pushing all his abilities to the limit.
The Ukrainian military wasn’t weak, especially the elite troops defending the heights—their combat strength was formidable. But they were facing Chen Ge.
Without any pressure, he slipped through three layers of Ukrainian defensive positions and reached the back of a two-story civilian house near the school building.
By the snores and breathing, he accurately counted how many people were inside!
Fifteen!
There were two sentries on the roof.
This two-story house faced the school building. If they didn’t eliminate the sentries, and if the sentries had thermal imaging equipment, the chance of being discovered was high.
Chen Ge gripped the FNX45 in his quick-draw holster at his waist, drew it gently, and screwed on the SilencerCo Osprey 45 2.0 suppressor—polygonal offset rectangular, with a button-operated rotary lock at the tail, one-touch positioning, very convenient.
He hadn’t attached the suppressor earlier because it was too long and would impede movement.
He wedged the pistol between his head and shoulder, pressed both hands against the brick wall, and began climbing.
His first time climbing a wall, he was still a little nervous, muscles tense all over, afraid of falling.
As it turned out, he’d worried too much. The barb-like spines had super-adhesion; he easily climbed the eight-meter-high roof, vaulted over the parapet, landed lightly, took the pistol from between his head and shoulder with his right hand, and walked slowly to two meters behind the two Ukrainian soldiers sitting in the sandbag emplacement at the southwest corner.
He thought it over and decided not to use the gun. Even with the suppressor, the FNX45’s report sounded like slamming a thick door hard, like a sledgehammer hitting a soft pad; the crisp click of the bolt cycling back and forth was sharper than the muzzle blast.
The floorboards were so thin that if the Ukrainian soldiers inside heard it, things would turn bad.
Chen Ge slowly holstered the pistol, then drew from behind his waist the short knife that hung with the war hammer—also made of Damascus steel.
The short-handled war hammer wasn’t suited to silent combat. This short knife was forged by an old Syrian blacksmith together with the hammer: twenty-eight centimeters overall, with a thirteen-centimeter handle, somewhat like a Japanese katana, and its blade was razor-sharp.
Holding the knife in his left hand, he came soundlessly behind the two Ukrainian soldiers like a ghost. He pressed his right hand against the right-hand soldier’s helmet and slit open half his neck in one stroke with a crisp sound, then swung the blade toward the left-hand soldier’s throat.
Chapter 14