The force behind the strike was tremendous. Like slicing through tofu, the short blade cut through two-thirds of the Ukrainian soldier’s neck.
Blood gushed. Chen Ge propped the two corpses against the sandbags, wiped the blood from his blade against their camouflage uniforms, and slid it back into its sheath.
Taking his first kills among the Ukrainian soldiers stirred not the slightest ripple in Chen Ge’s heart. In his eyes, Ukrainian troops and IS terrorists were one and the same—no difference whatsoever.
He wasn't pro-Russian, pro-Ukrainian, pro-American, or loyal to any country. He only cared about himself, and he only wanted to make money.
One trip through this mortal world, and getting rich came first above all else!
Sure enough, just as he expected, this observation post had thermal imaging equipment—and it was a REAP 60-3, developed and manufactured by Trijicon in the US!
Tsk, this thing was expensive—ten thousand dollars!
The REAP-60 was originally designed as a rifle scope, but being compact and lightweight, it could easily be detached and used as a handheld monocular thermal imager.
With 640×512 resolution and 6x optical magnification, it utterly outclassed standard handheld thermal monoculars.
Chen Ge didn't hesitate for a second. He stuffed it into his backpack, casually unhooked the AK-74M slung under his arm, tossed it aside, and took the Ukrainian soldier's HK417 instead. He scrounged up seven 20-round magazines to replace the AK mags in his tactical vest, and even found a B&T Rotex-III compact suppressor.
This rifle was fantastic—long range, immense stopping power, and high accuracy.
NATO was truly sparing no expense with their aid: first a REAP-60, now an HK417!
A bit light on ammo, though—only 140 rounds.
Didn't matter. Once he ran dry, he’d just dump it and pick up an AK.
Chen Ge slung the rifle over his shoulder, glanced toward the school building ahead, slid down the wall to the ground, and moved stealthily toward it.
The school building wasn't large—roughly three hundred square meters of floor space across two stories, with an underground bomb shelter built beneath.
The second floor had already been collapsed by Russian artillery shells, while the ground floor had been converted into a field hospital. No lights were lit, and there were none to light anyway; Bakhmut’s power grid had been destroyed long ago.
Generators provided power only to radars, radio gear, and night vision equipment. Regular soldiers relied entirely on flashlights, headlamps, candles, and chemical glow sticks for nighttime illumination.
The school building was pitch-black. As Chen Ge crept to within thirty meters of its southern side, he encountered a four-man patrol.
He slipped into the corner of a nearby ruined wall, and the patrol brushed right past him.
Once the patrol was well past, he kept creeping forward until he reached a first-floor window. Peering inside, he saw over a hundred cots packed with wounded soldiers. The air was thick with the stench of medicine, blood, and the foul reek of festering wounds.
Chen Ge suppressed his sense of smell and pricked up his ears. From the crack around the entrance door to the underground bomb shelter, he caught the faint sound of voices.
Found you!
There were two entrances to the underground shelter: one on the west side inside the building, and one in the annex on the east side.
Chen Ge chose the annex entrance!
He settled his breathing, mounted the suppressor onto the HK417, flipped off the safety, and moved along the base of the wall to the eastern annex.
The annex was only a single story, originally used as a kitchen and storeroom. Its back door stood open.
Chen Ge pulled the door open and slipped inside; military supplies were piled high throughout the room.
The entrance to the underground shelter was in the eastern corner, marked by a set of double cellar trapdoors. Down a ten-meter flight of stairs was the entry to the shelter itself.
Two Ukrainian soldiers were on duty at the entrance. Typically, one should have been stationed outside and one inside, but it was likely too cold out, so both had ducked inside to huddle together.
Chen Ge listened intently to gauge their positions again. Apart from the two chatting in the underground shelter, there were four distinct breathing rhythms—steady and slow, indicating the four were asleep.
He slung the rifle under his left arm, pulled up his balaclava, slipped his hands into his pockets, and strolled forward with an easy, nonchalant demeanor.
Hearing footsteps, the two Ukrainian soldiers leaning against the wall looked over. One flicked on a flashlight. Spotting the yellow tape on Chen Ge’s arm and helmet, he casually asked, "Brother, you here to relieve the watch? Why are you alone?"
"I came ahead. They're right behind me," Chen Ge replied, striding down the steps.
The two Ukrainian soldiers suspected nothing. Nor did they find it odd that Chen Ge spoke Russian, as in regions like Donetsk, Luhansk, Crimea, Odesa, and Kharkiv, Russian was the native tongue for the vast majority. The reserve soldiers from the 93rd Brigade, the 58th Brigade, and the 46th Air Assault Brigade stationed on Klishchiivka Heights mostly spoke Russian as well.
The real tell lay in accents and colloquial habits, since Ukrainian Russian carried distinct vocabulary and pronunciations.
But the two were exhausted and drowsy, failing to notice the slight variations in his pronunciation. Neither could they have imagined that someone could infiltrate all the way onto the heights.
Chen Ge descended the ten-meter flight of stairs and arrived before the shelter's iron door.
The latch inside hadn't been secured. Chen Ge pulled the door open and stepped right in.
The interior was spacious—a shelter five meters high and twenty meters across on each side, packed with firearms and ammunition. There were several large rows of 120mm, 82mm, and 60mm mortars, alongside various MANPADS, drones, and other gear.
Seeing Chen Ge enter, the two soldiers sitting on ammo crates to the left of the door got up to speak. Chen Ge shut the door behind him, drew his war hammer, and charged.
The war hammer weighed 1.5 kilograms with a 25-centimeter handle. Its pointed end was an eight-sided spike, seven centimeters long and razor-sharp, while the blunt end was a square face.
Thwack. The spike drove into one soldier’s neck, tearing through his windpipe and crushing the cervical vertebrae. He collapsed without so much as a groan.
Even as he struck the first man, his left hand clamped around the second soldier's neck. Chen Ge squeezed hard with his fingers, and with a crisp snap, crushed his throat.
Having dispatched two in seconds, three of the four soldiers lying atop the ammo crates were stirred by the noise. Bleary-eyed, they began sitting up. Chen Ge swung the hammer in a rapid blur—thump, thump, thump, thump.
Brains burst as all four sank into the permanent sleep of corpses.
Having dealt with all six, Chen Ge roughly wiped the brains and blood from the hammer head against a blanket, slid it back into the custom sheath at the small of his back, and unslung his backpack. Opening it, he took out two three-kilogram mechanical time bombs, pressed the activation switches, and moved over to the ammunition stacks. He shifted aside several hundred-kilogram ammo crates, wedged the bombs deep inside, and put the crates back in place.
He had only ten minutes!
Without rushing, Chen Ge found a dark green M19A1 metal ammo can stamped with the words LONG RANGE, containing 240 rounds of 7.62 NATO ammunition, and packed it straight into his rucksack.
This was M118 LR ammunition—specialized high-precision sniper rounds.
Shouldering the backpack, Chen Ge exited, climbed back up to the cellar trapdoors, raised his HK417, and put down the two Ukrainian sentries.
He walked briskly out of the annex, avoided the patrols, and made his way to a spot a hundred meters from the target building. He slipped into a half-ruined residential house where some forty Ukrainian soldiers lay sleeping, leaned against a wall, and pretended to doze.
Minutes and seconds ticked away.
Leaning in the corner, Chen Ge pulled his tactical balaclava up, tugged his helmet low, slipped on tactical gloves, and covered as much exposed skin as possible.
Around him, Ukrainian soldiers snored, someone mumbling in their sleep.
The stench of sweat, foot odor, body odor, tobacco smoke, and gun oil coalesced into an assault on the senses, prompting him to shut down his sense of smell once more as he counted the seconds with eyes closed.
Seven minutes later, the ground heaved violently. Mortar and brick dust rained down from the shattered walls, jolting awake every Ukrainian soldier in the room.
Immediately afterward, a shockwave accompanied by a deafening blast swept through, shaking everyone senseless and rattling their internal organs.
Then it was no longer just a single boom, but a seamless, continuous chain of detonations, roaring like a steamroller grinding right over their skulls.
Flames reflected inside, bathing the entire room in a fiery orange glow.
"Russian bombardment!!!"
Someone roared, and chaos erupted in the room.
Ukrainian soldiers leaped up and scrambled for the exit, some twisting ankles and tumbling, others slamming headfirst into the doorframe.
Taking advantage of the panic, Chen Ge rose to his feet, tightened his rifle sling, swung the HK417 onto his back, and blended into the surging crowd running outside.
Outside, the world had turned to hell.
Chapter 15