Gao Fei wasn't sure if Sokholov had noticed, but Parker was speaking Russian.
Gao Fei remembered clearly that when Parker had first surrendered, the sole reason he hadn't been shot dead on the spot was that he had stammered out *tovarishch, khorosho* in crude, broken Russian.
So what was this? He couldn't speak Russian when he surrendered, but now he was suddenly fluent?
Gao Fei actually thought Parker wasn't a bad guy, and even admired him a bit. But Gao Fei knew where his loyalty lay—Sokholov and the squad were his comrades.
Watching Sokholov clap Parker enthusiastically on the shoulder and rattle off a warm barrage of praise, Gao Fei couldn't hold back. "Squad Leader, step over here for a second."
Sokholov glanced at him and jogged over. "What is it?"
"Something's off about Parker. Just a while ago he couldn't speak Russian, and now suddenly he's completely fluent. There's more to his identity than meets the eye."
Sokholov pressed his right hand downward, gesturing for Gao Fei to keep quiet, and muttered in a low voice, "I know. But that's not for us to worry about right now. Let's finish this fight first."
With that, Sokholov waved his arm and barked, "Fall back! Take cover from the artillery!"
The squad followed Sokholov, running backward along the trench and giving up the ground they had just taken.
"Fire for effect, maximum rate! Fire!"
Right now, Parker looked more like a commander than Sokholov did.
Then again, Sokholov had originally been nothing more than a fireteam leader. He had gotten that role purely because he had survived enough battles, and when the squad leader was killed, he had inherited the squad by default.
Sokholov certainly didn't lack experience, but when it came to real tactical brilliance, he didn't have much to boast of.
Parker was a completely different story. The man seemed to understand everything and know how to do everything. Put them in any other setting or occasion, and the hierarchy between the two would have been entirely reversed.
Shells began slamming down in deafening detonations.
Even though Gao Fei couldn't understand much Russian, he knew how difficult it was to direct artillery fire. That was precisely what set him apart from raw recruits.
Parker's coordinates were frighteningly precise. Pulling that off was impossible for an amateur, and even professional forward artillery observers couldn't always manage it. Directing beyond-visual-range artillery to hit pinpoint targets took more than mere proficiency—it took a master of the craft.
Men of Parker's caliber were rare enough that an entire artillery brigade might not produce more than a handful.
With skills like that, Gao Fei didn't believe for a second that Parker had signed up just for a monthly paycheck of ten or twenty thousand.
Still, Sokholov was right. That wasn't their problem to solve. Someone else would vet Parker's background later. For now, the smart move was to exploit his abilities and survive this engagement.
The barrage lasted a minute, dropping at least thirty shells. When the rapid, hammering explosions suddenly ceased, Sokholov roared, "Follow me! Move!"
Artillery wasn't always devastating against infantry tucked into trenches, but after dozens of shells had rained down, Gao Fei doubted the enemy had any fight left in them.
Infantry charge right after the artillery pounds—that was the most sophisticated and effective tactic for foot soldiers. Rushing in while the enemy was concussed and reeling made almost any position takeable.
A sprint of a few dozen meters took no time at all. Hurrying back to their previous position, they saw that one shell had landed nearby. It hadn't hit the trench directly, but it had still collapsed a section of the wall.
As for the enemy's sector, at least one shell had scored a direct hit inside the trench, and three others had landed within thirty meters of their occupied section.
That was exceptionally accurate fire. For a strike of that precision, thirty percent of the credit belonged to the gun crews, and seventy percent went to Parker's spot-on correction.
Having survived bombardments himself, Gao Fei was experienced enough to read the craters. One look told him the strike had been devastating; all they had to do was sweep into the trench and mop up any remnants.
It turned out just as Gao Fei expected. Two bodies were left behind, while the rest of the enemy had vanished without a trace.
The survivors had fled, and anyone caught in the direct blasts had been blown to bits, leaving no way to know how many had actually died.
"Brilliant work, brother!" Sokholov shouted. "Don't worry, leave everything else to me. I guarantee you'll be safe. Now help us have the big guns plaster the surrounding area!"
Infantry rarely decided the outcome of a massive battle, but someone who could bring down pinpoint artillery to blow the enemy to pieces truly had the power to turn the tide.
Parker didn't bother with modesty or false hesitation. He spoke briskly: "Get in touch with our people. Have them follow my orders—no, follow my guidance. Tell them to break contact and pull back right now, and give me a clear marker of their positions. The more precise, the better."
Sokholov keyed his walkie-talkie. "Platoon Leader, this is Sokholov! Mark your current position with smoke grenades and disengage! We have an artillery officer directing fire! Take cover!"
The platoon leader's voice came through muffled over the radio, muttering, "Copy that..."
The Russian battlefield command structure was chaotic and backward. Gao Fei didn't know what a truly state-of-the-art military looked like, but compared to what he had seen in movies, Russian communications—or at least Wagner's—were agonizingly cumbersome.
Backward or not, at least they could still communicate.
Before long, Gao Fei spotted thick red smoke billowing from the position on their left.
Using the smoke as a reference, Parker recalculated coordinates and relayed them to the artillery battery in the rear.
The self-propelled howitzers had likely repositioned after firing their initial volley, but that didn't matter. Once the first fire mission was established, everything else became much simpler.
About two minutes later, the first shells screamed down.
This time, there wasn't even a test round. It was an immediate blanket barrage.
Gao Fei strongly suspected Parker had skipped the adjustment phase on purpose. Since the strike was far enough away that no stray round could possibly hit Parker's own head, he had grown far more brazen with his fire direction.
Yet the results were undeniably spectacular. Once the barrage lifted, the platoon leader's excited voice crackled over the walkie-talkie: "We're attacking again! Out!"
Positions that infantry couldn't take with their lives opened wide after a good shelling.
Gao Fei found himself thinking that even if Parker turned out to be a spy, he'd be reluctant to get rid of him.
If they could keep fighting like this, how many lives would be spared?
Moments later, the platoon leader came back on the radio: "Enemy routed! We've secured the position!"
Gao Fei checked his watch. From the moment the barrage began to the platoon taking the trench, only five minutes had passed.
It was tremendous news. The 1st Squad's position was no longer an exposed salient surrounded on three sides. A local breakthrough would soon ripple into a broader rupture along the entire line.
Beaming with excitement, Sokholov urged Parker, "Hit them! Keep hitting them! Blast that other side too!"
Parker nodded, lifting the radio and pressing the transmit button.
There was no static when transmitting, but when he called for fire and received no reply after repeated attempts, his expression soured.
Parker spoke into the mic once more, but after several seconds of dead air, he turned to Sokholov. "We've got trouble. Comms are jammed again. Your radios are running on plain UV bands—they're way too easy to jam. No frequency-hopping whatsoever. Any high-powered appliance could disrupt your signal! How the hell do you expect to fight like this?"
Sokholov looked utterly helpless. "Nothing we can do. If it's jammed, we wait. At least with jamming up, drones won't come either."
"Not necessarily! Drone control frequencies aren't the same as walkie-talkie bands. The last outage was caused by your... by the Russian military's... by our own electronic countermeasures, which knocked out radios and drones simultaneously. But this jamming might not be ours. If the Ukrainians activated it, their drones won't be affected!"
Sokholov gave a bitter grimace. "I know, but there's still nothing I can do. What should we do next?"
"We need to take cover," Parker advised. "When a defensive line is breached, the enemy's first reaction is to plug the gap. Our position is about to become their priority target, which means enemy drones will be here shortly. Furthermore, if the enemy's will to resist collapses, they'll rout."
Parker pointed to the right. "Five hundred meters in that direction, there's a garrison of about two hundred men. If they want to fall back to their secondary positions, our trench is their only escape route."
Sokholov thought it over. "What do you suggest?"
"Leave a few lookouts to watch the perimeter, and have everyone else get into the dugouts to avoid incoming drones. Of course, the best option is to pull back. We don't have enough men to stop two hundred desperate troops fighting for their lives."
"We can't retreat," Sokholov said flatly. "We take cover from the drones first."
By now, Sokholov was treating Parker's advice like gospel. Having made his choice, he immediately said to Parker, "Nothing can happen to you right now. Get into a dugout."
Without hesitation, Parker scrambled straight into one. From inside, he called back out toward Sokholov, "If the Ukrainians put up jamming, our side might retaliate with our own. If we can't use ours, we won't let them use theirs either, which would shut down both drones and radios. The Russian military always pulls that trick, so the drone threat might not be as bad. But keep your eyes peeled for retreating troops on both flanks!"
"Got it. Just stay put and keep your head down."
Parker had certainly moved up in the world; he could now sit comfortably in a dugout.
Sokholov then signaled to Gao Fei.
If he had something to say, why couldn't he just shout it? Why the secrecy?
Gao Fei leaned close, and Sokholov dropped his voice to a bare whisper. "You get into a dugout too. I've got an assignment for you: keep your eyes on Parker. The man's too capable, and he talks too much. If things go south, he'll definitely try to switch back to the other side. If the battle turns against us, shoot him dead on the spot. Understood?"
Gao Fei whispered back, "Understood."
Sokholov patted Gao Fei on the back and murmured, "I'll call you if I need you to step in. If I don't call, don't come out. That's all."
Chapter 47