The battle wasn't over.
Sokholov had the leisure to chat, but Gao Fei and Samir Bek did not. While Sokholov was still lost in doubt and self-doubt, Samir finally opened fire.
There was a whoosh, and a rocket shot out.
A little over a hundred meters—not too far, and hitting an armored vehicle at that range was fairly easy. Gao Fei watched sparks flash on the armored vehicle, followed at once by a puff of white smoke.
It didn't catch fire and it didn't explode, but the armored vehicle stopped. Then Samir roared in wild excitement, "I hit it!"
Right behind it came another rocket, smashing into the armored vehicle, and this time it immediately began spewing sparks as flames spread fast.
The rule was not to fire on tanks and armored vehicles while they advanced, but to hammer them hard when they retreated—and the effect was plain to see. Of the two tanks and four armored vehicles, not a single one made it back.
Armored vehicles whose tracks had been torn apart by shells sat stranded where they stopped; anything that could still move was left to the frontline infantry to finish off with rocket launchers. Wagner's combat system wasn't all that advanced, and it wasn't really sensible either, but it worked.
The hatch of an armored vehicle swung open, and Gao Fei got another chance at a moving target.
Odd, though—the machine gun hadn't fired a single shot earlier, yet now, against the last remaining armored vehicle and its few surviving soldiers, every light and heavy gun on this position opened up together.
Who knew what they had all been waiting for.
From the side, Gao Fei could still see men bursting out of the armored vehicle's rear door. He pulled the trigger a third time, a habitual single shot, but the moment he realized everyone else was firing, he clamped down on the trigger and held it.
Of the four men who jumped from the armored vehicle, three dropped cleanly—but Gao Fei had no way at all to tell whether any of them was his hit.
Mostly he just wanted to try what full automatic felt like. That was why he had fired.
This battle could be declared over—though only the battle in front of Gao Fei's position. Looking left and right, the fighting on both sides was still fierce, the crack of gunfire and the boom of artillery never ceasing.
Samir looked toward Sokholov, and the instant the machine gun's fire stopped, he said, "Sir! I hit an armored vehicle!"
Sokholov said listlessly, "Good work."
Samir lowered the launcher tube and asked, his face full of expectation, "So, there's a bounty, right?"
"Yes."
Sokholov glanced around, then said quickly, "Back to the dugout. This isn't our front; we're not the ones who sweep the battlefield and finish off stragglers. Everyone back in the dugouts—there may be shelling."
The machine gunner packed up his machine gun, set it down in the trench, and slipped soundlessly back into his dugout.
But after he'd sat back down, he suddenly remembered something. He pulled the cigarettes Gao Fei had given him from his pocket, shook out two, lit one and set it between his own lips, then ducked out of the dugout and came to Gao Fei holding the unlit one.
He held out the cigarette, and once Gao Fei had taken it, offered his lighter as well.
"I'm Glaski. You shoot well."
Offering a cigarette, lighting it, giving his name unprompted—the machine gunner meant it as a sign of recognition and acceptance.
There was no other meaning to it. Having lit Gao Fei's cigarette, Glaski showed not the slightest intention of lighting one for his squad leader too. Without a moment's hesitation—not even waiting for Gao Fei to reply—he turned straight around and went back to his own dugout, sat down, and took a deep, contented drag.
Gao Fei hadn't gone into the dugout, and neither had Samir, while Sokholov was still standing where he was, staring at Gao Fei.
That left Gao Fei in a very awkward spot.
By Gao Fei's habits—or rather, by Chinese habits—you either smoked on your own, or you handed a cigarette to everyone present. Glaski's behavior seemed a bit stingy, and it left Gao Fei unsure whether he should even keep smoking his own cigarette.
"Uh..."
Just as Gao Fei was wondering what to say, Samir couldn't wait any longer: "Sir, how big is my bounty?"
The only reason Samir hadn't gone back to the dugout was that he was in a hurry to ask this.
Well, the truth was, Gao Fei wanted to know too.
Sokholov looked at Samir and said, his face full of impatience, "It's split evenly. Everyone in our company splits it, plus the artillery behind us, and the engineers who laid the mines—everyone responsible for this stretch of the position splits it evenly. What, you think firing one rocket earns you the whole bounty for yourself?"
Samir froze, sighed faintly, and nodded. "All right. That's fair."
Honestly, without artillery support, without the mines laid in advance, machine guns, rifles, and rocket launchers alone could still have driven back a tank and armored vehicle attack—just not this easily. Total annihilation was a real possibility too.
So splitting it evenly was right, and Samir had nothing to say about it. He just thought for a moment, then asked again, "So after the split, about how much do we each get?"
Gao Fei ran the numbers in his head: ten thousand a tank, five thousand an armored vehicle, personnel not counted—that was forty thousand euros in bounty. Even with everyone splitting it, each man should still come away with a little something.
Sokholov thought for a moment. "About two hundred apiece."
Not bad. He'd fired a few shots, basically just watched the show, and there were two hundred euros to take. That worked.
It really beat holding down a job.
Samir looked satisfied too. He asked quickly, "Will it come with our pay, or...?"
"No telling. Live until they pay out, and you'll get it!"
Samir froze, thought it over, and pressed on: "Rex killed two enemies. Does he get a bounty?"
"Personnel don't count. Unless he killed someone of especially high value, enemy soldiers don't get a bounty of their own. Is that all you care about? Get back in your hole."
Sokholov looked a little angry. Samir answered without a moment's hesitation, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Samir went back to his own dugout, pleased as could be, while Sokholov said to Gao Fei, "You... you shot well. Come here, let's talk."
He pointed at his own dugout. "Get in."
Gao Fei clicked the safety on his rifle and ducked into Sokholov's dugout. He'd assumed Sokholov would come in too, but instead Sokholov sat down right there in the trench.
He sat down in the trench, took out his cigarettes and lit one for himself, and only then said gravely, "I have to admit I misjudged you. You're clearly not some clueless rookie. But... never mind. Just tell me—how did you shoot like that?"
Gao Fei didn't know how to answer.
For a true newbie—all theory, zero practice—Gao Fei really had no way to explain it in terms only veterans would understand.
He thought for a moment, then said very earnestly, "I just shot. The way I did in training—um, like at target practice. Aim, fire. That's it."
"If shooting were that simple, there'd be no need for instructors."
Sokholov drew a deep drag on his cigarette, then said thoughtfully, "But you're not wrong. Shooting is that simple. Hmm... all right, I'll take what you said as the truth. Then why didn't you report a specialty?"
Gao Fei didn't hesitate. He'd had the answer ready for a long time.
"This was my first time in real combat, and I'm no sniper, sir. I had no idea how my marksmanship would hold up in a real fight."
Understanding dawned on Sokholov's face, and he couldn't help nodding. "That's plausible. That's how it should be. A veteran, but a newbie too—hmm, yes, that fits. So if the company asks you again whether you have any specialty, what will you choose?"
Without a moment's hesitation, Gao Fei said, "No specialty! Sir, I'm very glad to fight under you. Meeting a good squad leader was my good luck, and I have no wish to be transferred to anyone else. I'm sticking with you, sir."
A satisfied smile spread across Sokholov's face. He grinned. "Good, good. Not bad, kid. Here, have a cigarette. Hungry? Want some water?"",
Chapter 11