After listening to Typhoon's report, Ratibor strode over to the edge of the massive crater formed where the tunnel had collapsed. In a low, firm voice, he said, "No, they aren't dead. They have to be in the bomb shelter. Dig out the tunnel."
Typhoon nodded. Raising his radio, he ordered the combat engineer company to bring over explosives, then summoned three hundred K-soldiers to grab entrenching tools and dig.
Before long, the first crate of explosives was detonated. Sand, rock, and earth sprayed outward as a deep crater was blown into the collapsed ground.
K-soldiers leaped down into the pit, grunting and heaving with their shovels. Where the soil proved too dense, they blasted through with more explosives.
Digging, blasting, digging, and blasting again, they quickly excavated a pit seven to eight meters deep.
Veterans and K-soldiers assigned to clearing the battlefield came over of their own accord to help, rolling up their sleeves to haul bucket after bucket of sand and rubble up from the crater and dump it to the side.
Ten minutes later, several K-soldiers at the bottom struck the timber and steel framing that supported the tunnel. Ratibor immediately ordered them to pick up the pace.
Inside the bomb shelter's main hall, the air had grown perilously thin. The forty-three survivors lying shoulder to shoulder in the corridor had gradually begun succumbing to mild hypoxia, drifting unconscious one after another. Only Chen Ge was still holding on.
Big Bear stared blearily at Chen Ge, murmuring under his breath, "Hammer Brother, if we all die here... what will happen to my mom..."
Chen Ge comforted him, "Don't panic. They should be breaking through the tunnel any minute now."
The words had barely left his mouth when the clatter of striking metal and jubilant shouts echoed in from beyond.
"We're through! We broke through! Hurry! Call for stretchers to be lowered!"
Several veterans kicked aside the mud choking the opening and squeezed inside. Chen Ge hurriedly faked passing out.
The veterans carried Trench and Hailstone out first on stretchers. Dozens more stretchers were then lowered, and Chen Ge and the rest were loaded one by one into the pit, then hoisted to the surface with ropes.
Around the rim of the massive crater, an air of solemn reverence hung over the crowd. Hundreds of veterans and K-soldiers stood in silence, looking upon the Falcon Hunting Team with gazes filled with deep respect—and awe.
That the Falcon Hunting Team had played a decisive role in capturing Klishchiivka Heights was an indisputable fact.
Covered in wounds, their bodies and faces caked in gunsmoke, grime, and dried blood, the forty-three survivors were laid out in three rows. Over a dozen medics examined them thoroughly one by one, applying emergency dressings to four wounded mercenaries before loading them onto vehicles bound for the hospital.
Chen Ge cracked his eyelids slightly. Seeing so many people gathered around, his social anxiety flared, and he didn't dare pretend to wake up just yet.
Ratibor seemed to sense something. Turning his head toward Chen Ge, he asked gently, "Sledgehammer, are you awake?"
Chen Ge's lips twitched slightly. He opened his eyes slowly, grimacing as if racked with pain, and struggled to sit up.
He rubbed his head, looked around the gathering, and let his gaze settle on Ratibor.
"Still alive? *Phew*... Felt like a nightmare."
Ratibor strode forward to stand before Chen Ge, leaning down and extending a hand.
"Just treat it like one. Congratulations on surviving!"
"Thank you."
Chen Ge murmured his thanks, grasped Ratibor's hand, and slowly pulled himself up. Turning his head toward the ruins of the school building, his face showed none of the joy of having escaped death—only an unspeakable sorrow.
Out of seventy-five men in the Falcon Hunting Team, only forty-three remained. Thirty-two had died in that building.
Fortress... Lug Nut... Orion... White Wolf...
Men who had been alive and well just yesterday, laughing and bragging by his side, were now cold corpses. It wasn't sentimentality—it was genuine, crushing heartbreak.
*Fortress, you motherfucker, you still owe me five hundred dollars!*
Ratibor patted Chen Ge's shoulder, then raised his hand in a crisp salute toward the ruins. "I will have their remains recovered," he said solemnly, "and sent back to their hometowns along with their death benefits and bonuses! Their families will know that they were heroes!"
"Yeah... On behalf of the brothers, thank you, sir."
Chen Ge nodded faintly. Walking over to the rubble, he crouched down and picked up a severed hand caked in dust and blood. It belonged to White Wolf of Assault Team Two—a hearty, straightforward fellow from Yekaterinburg who loved playing the harmonica. On the wrist was a Volmax Okhotsk tactical watch given to him by his girlfriend.
Chen Ge unclamped the metal-banded watch and wiped the dried blood and dust from its casing. On the rugged, minimalist black dial, time was frozen at 6:02!
Chen Ge stared at the severed hand in a daze, recalling how White Wolf had played *Mariage d'Amour* on his harmonica every single day, proudly showing off his beautiful girlfriend and looking forward to holding their wedding once his contract ended at the close of the year.
He would never go home now. Not even an intact body remained—probably nothing left of him except this hand.
He let out a quiet sigh, pressed his lips together, and turned back to look at Trench and the others who were gradually waking up. Then he looked across Klishchiivka Heights, pockmarked with craters and littered with severed limbs and shattered remains.
The sheer brutality of modern warfare was laid bare in this single severed hand, and upon these heights strewn with corpses.
Sitting on his stretcher, Trench gathered himself for a moment, chugging down two bottles of glucose. Swaying slightly, he stood up and stared blankly at the rubble. His eyes slowly reddened, and hot tears spilled down his cheeks.
Every single member of the Falcon Hunting Team had been his seasoned veteran subordinate for over six months. In just one night, more than half had been lost...
Silence fell across the heights. Everyone looked on toward Trench as he wept in silence.
After a long time, Trench wiped away his tears. Parting his cracked lips, he spoke in a low, hoarse voice.
"Ratibor, please dig out my brothers. I want to send them home!"
Ratibor did not offer empty platitudes. He patted Trench on the arm and said gravely, "I'll have people transport you all to Donetsk first. We'll recover and prepare the remains today, and send them to the Donetsk railway station."
Trench muttered a thank-you, then strode over to the last mercenary being loaded into an evacuation vehicle. Reaching out, he felt for the man's carotid artery and asked the medic:
"Will he make it?"
"He should, but he needs to get to a hospital for surgery immediately. He's nearly bled dry."
The medic wasted no time, signaling the driver to get moving.
Chen Ge walked over, picked up a plastic bag, placed White Wolf's severed hand and watch inside, and handed it to Trench.
"It's White Wolf's! This might be all that's left of him..."
Trench took the bag, pulled out the watch to check the time, and slipped it back inside.
"Go look after the brothers who are alive! I will dig out the fallen and send them home."
"Got it."
Chen Ge adjusted his tactical balaclava, walked over to Lightbulb and Manhole Cover—who had already come around—and plopped down on the dirt. "Congratulations on fucking surviving again," he said. "I expect you to weep with gratitude, because I'm the one who snatched you back from the Grim Reaper."
Before losing consciousness, Manhole Cover and Lightbulb had seen Chen Ge charge back to rescue them. Deep down, they were enormously grateful to him, but weeping with thanks was out of the question.
Lightbulb rolled his eyes and struggled to sit up. Sharp stabs of pain radiated through his chest and abdomen, making him wince and bare his teeth.
"Thank you? I'd rather kick your ass black and blue! You almost broke us in two when you threw us down there! It hurts! Everything fucking hurts!"
"..."
Chen Ge couldn't be bothered to argue with this ungrateful bastard. He pushed himself up and walked over to the edge of the crater to retrieve his backpack, which K-soldiers had hauled up from the underground bunker.
"Thanks, brothers!"
Only then did several K-soldiers realize that Chen Ge was actually Chinese.
A fierce-looking K-soldier in his forties gasped, "You're Chinese? You're actually from China?"
The surrounding Wagner veterans and K-soldiers turned in unison, looking Chen Ge up and down with astonishment, curiosity, and disbelief.
There was no disdain, and certainly no contempt. After all, anyone who could make it into the Falcon Hunting Team was definitely not to be messed with.
Moreover, Ratibor's extraordinary attitude toward Chen Ge just now hadn't escaped anyone's notice.
"I'm Chinese. Thank you for digging us out. You've worked hard!"
Chapter 22