Gao Fei’s head was in a blur.
He had no idea if Samir Bek had been hit, but when Gao Fei burst out of the bunker, Samir Bek hadn't made a sound.
Gao Fei was already mentally prepared for the possibility that Samir Bek was dead; he just had no time to check right now.
So when Andrey suggested a countercharge, Gao Fei didn't hesitate in the slightest.
The main reason was that without charging out, they genuinely had no idea how to fight this battle—and Gao Fei knew that if things dragged on like this, they were doomed.
He didn't know the exact enemy numbers, but he knew they were formidable, with a combat capability far superior to 1st Squad's.
The more desperate the situation, the more critical it was to push out. If they caught the enemy off guard, they still had a fighting chance. But if they surrendered the initiative and let the enemy wear them down through an entire night of back-and-forth skirmishing, 1st Squad was finished.
There wasn't even time to call over a few more comrades. The second Gao Fei made up his mind, he rose, crouched low, his eyes glued to the thermal optic, and charged out in an awkward, non-standard combat movement.
The moment he had to execute tactical maneuvers in an assault, Gao Fei's shortcomings were laid bare.
Tactical maneuvers required endless drilling, and Gao Fei’s actions were mere superficial imitations. He didn't know what kind of footwork to use on the move, what speed to maintain, or whether he should extend his rifle before rounding a corner or bring it up only after completing the turn.
Moves in the movies were designed to look cool and slick, but on a battlefield, every single maneuver was a lesson bought with blood by those who came before. Getting it wrong meant a flaw, and a flaw meant mortal danger.
All that could be said was that Gao Fei’s sole advantage in tonight’s fight was that he could always take the enemy by surprise.
Gao Fei wasn't moving very fast, and his and Andrey's reckless gamble was quickly spotted by their squadmates. But seeing them rush out, Glaski didn't dare yell, terrified of giving away their position.
Even so, Glaski was nearly beside himself with anxiety.
"Everyone heads up, watch out for drones!" Glaski bellowed, pitching his voice so the enemy couldn't tell he was warning Gao Fei.
Only when he heard Glaski's shout did Gao Fei suddenly remember.
How could an elite squad like this operate without sending recon drones ahead?
Hiding beneath the camouflage netting effectively shielded them from drone surveillance and suicide drone strikes. But stepping into the communication trench meant stepping outside the protection of the nets.
Yet it was too late to think about that now.
For a moment, Gao Fei didn't know whether to push forward or fall back.
Right then, he caught the faint sound of voices ahead.
"Enemy has night-vision optics, extremely high combat effectiveness... We've encountered stiff resistance, heavy casualties... We need fire support now, have the drones..."
*The enemy is struggling too?*
Hearing the muffled call, Gao Fei's spirits surged. He instantly picked up the pace, sprinting toward the communication trench occupied by the enemy.
Then, Gao Fei heard an exclamation.
"Look out!"
It was in English. All the enemies were speaking English.
The moment he heard that shout, Gao Fei knew their move was blown.
Relying on past experience against these foes wouldn't work. Andrey’s reckless proposal had turned into a suicide charge.
You could shoot on pure instinct, but you couldn't wage war without using your brain.
Still, having come this far, turning back was out of the question. The distance to retreat was greater than the distance to close the gap. In the time it would take to run back, he might as well take the fight to them.
Gao Fei accelerated, completely ditching the low-crouched, weapon-ready tactical posture to sprint full-tilt toward the enemy position.
"Two targets..."
The enemy was still shouting. Gao Fei raised his rifle the instant he rounded the corner, and in that split second, two figures came into view.
The enemy’s rifle barked; Gao Fei fired as well. Gao Fei didn't feel any bullet strike him, but right before his eyes, one of the enemies toppled backward.
It had turned into another direct duel, but the enemy had made a fatal mistake.
At least three enemies could have opened fire on Gao Fei simultaneously, but they were executing standard squad engagement doctrine.
One soldier covered the point where the enemy was expected to appear, a second watched the left flank, and the third covered the right.
There was nothing inherently wrong with that tactic, but using it against Gao Fei was a deadly blunder.
Such tactics worked when elite troops fought equally elite adversaries, but they fell apart against a team like Gao Fei and Andrey—a complete rookie paired with a reckless brute.
Andrey didn't even know enough to pop out beside Gao Fei at the same time. The enemy had no reason to guard the flanks, and they certainly shouldn't have trusted their comrade to win a face-to-face duel with Gao Fei.
Pros countered scrubs, but scrubs could counter pros.
Of course, only a scrub with peerless marksmanship could ever pull it off.
With just two shots, Gao Fei dropped the enemy dueling him, then shifted his barrel with a minuscule adjustment and dropped the man beside him.
The three enemies were spaced widely apart. Two were near the bend of the communication trench, while the third was twenty meters back, near another corner.
When Gao Fei rapidly swung his muzzle intending to cut down the third man, all he saw through his thermal optic was the soldier's retreating back vanishing around the bend.
The enemy had been conducting an orderly withdrawal, even dragging along their comrades' bodies. But Gao Fei's sudden appearance had turned it into a desperate rout. The third man had made the correct, if cowardly, decision—he had lost his nerve and fled.
Gao Fei lost his chance to eliminate the third enemy.
Only now did Andrey come barreling out behind him.
"Get back, get back! Get the hell back!" Glaski screamed his lungs out.
Without overthinking, Gao Fei spun around and ran, leaving Andrey in the dust.
"Fall back!" Gao Fei yelled.
Andrey hesitated. Clicking on his flashlight, he spotted the night-vision device mounted on the dead enemy's helmet and wanted to grab it before retreating.
Gao Fei snapped furiously, "Fall back! Run!"
Andrey still coveted the gear, but his blind obedience to the strong overpowered his greed. His hands reached out toward the night-vision device, yet his feet were already carrying him after Gao Fei.
Gao Fei ran for his life. After stumbling through a few clumsy, contradictory steps, Andrey finally sorted out his stride and sprinted after him.
The distance was short, crossed in a few bounds. But the moment Gao Fei ducked back into the trench protected by netting, he heard the distinctive buzzing of a drone.
Right now, there was no seeing the drone, let alone shooting it down.
Under the protective netting, however, they didn't have to worry about a suicide drone locking onto them for a direct blast. Suicide drones were small and packed limited explosives; once there was even a little distance, their lethality dropped drastically.
The drone whined and zipped away.
Then, just as Andrey hurled himself beneath the sheltered netting of the trench, the lethal buzz of a drone sounded behind him once more.
Yet it still didn't detonate.
There were two possibilities: either the enemy’s drones were too precious to waste on anything short of high-value targets, or the enemy had never intended to deploy drones against Gao Fei's position until the elite unit called in fire support, bringing the drone over after the fact.
Either way, they had cheated death.
Gao Fei certainly wasn't foolish enough to linger. He dashed straight into the bunker and shouted into the darkness, "Samir!"
"I'm alive! I took a hit!"
Samir Bek's voice sounded full of vigor, not like a dying man at all.
Immediately after, Samir Bek clicked on a flashlight. He had tucked himself into a corner of the bunker alongside the unremoved bodies, using the light to inspect himself.
There was blood on his shoulder. Samir Bek knew he had been shot, but he hadn't known where. After looking, he said with immense relief, "Just the shoulder! Won't kill me!"
A shoulder wound was a remarkably good outcome.
Gao Fei breathed a sigh of relief. But before he could celebrate, Sokholov spoke up in a helpless tone: "I'm hit."
Gao Fei froze, then hurried toward the sound of Sokholov's voice.
Andrey followed close behind and switched his flashlight back on.
"Kill the light!" Sokholov barked, and Andrey shut it off immediately.
Gao Fei reached Sokholov's side and looked down at him through the thermal optic as he lay on the ground. He instantly spotted prominent bloodstains across Sokholov's leg.
There was blood on the thigh and on the calf, all on the right leg.
Samir Bek was fine, but Sokholov's wound looked severe. More critically, through the thermal optic, Gao Fei could see blood welling rapidly and continuously from his leg.
"How is it?"
"Grenade shrapnel."
Gao Fei urged, "Andrey, stand further back and turn the flashlight on."
Turning on a flashlight meant exposing their position, which was dangerous. But not examining Sokholov's wound was just as perilous for him.
"Don't turn on the light!" Sokholov stopped him again. Then, speaking into the walkie-talkie on his shoulder, he shouted hoarsely, "Flares! Where are the flares?!"
Finally, after Sokholov's repeated cries, a bright point of light appeared in the sky, followed by an illumination flare casting its brilliant glow across the night.
Gao Fei could now see Sokholov's injuries clearly.
Sokholov was lying prone. There were two tiny puncture holes on his back where his body armor had stopped the grenade shrapnel, but his legs had been unprotected. Fragments from the airburst grenade had peppered his right leg.
Leg wounds usually weren't fatal, provided the femoral artery wasn't severed.
Gao Fei couldn't tell from the volume of blood whether an artery was ruptured. All he could do was holler, "Medic!"
There were no medics here, only a few first-aid kits at best.
A soldier jogged over, inspected Sokholov's wounds, and said, "You're alright. Slow down the bleeding, and you won't die anytime soon."
He tore open a first-aid kit and pulled out bandages. By then, Glaski had run over as well. Looking at Sokholov's leg, he said, "Stop the bleeding and send him back for emergency treatment. This much blood loss is dangerous."
Sokholov said urgently, "No, I can't walk."
Without hesitation, Glaski replied, "I'll carry you back."
"Can't. Drones."
Sokholov's voice was tinged with helplessness. When he said that, the men all froze.
He was right. With drones in the air, leaving the shelter of the protective netting to navigate the exposed trenches was suicide.
Glaski fell silent for a moment before muttering, "Call for a medic. Right now. Have the company commander send a medic over!"
Without another word, Sokholov keyed his walkie-talkie and said urgently, "We have wounded. Send a medic over."
There was no response from the radio. Sokholov had to repeat, "Calling for support! The enemy sent an elite team on a night raid. We're understrength, we need reinforcements immediately!"
After a brief pause, the company commander's low voice came through the walkie-talkie: "There are no reinforcements left. Not a single one."
Sokholov answered without thinking, "Then requesting permission to withdraw."
"Permission denied."
The company commander's voice was laced with helplessness and a faint undertone of bitter grief. A moment later, he said quietly, "Wounded may pull back on their own. How is... Rex?"
Gao Fei whispered from the side, "Tell him I'm hit! Get the company commander to send a medic!"
Gao Fei figured that given how much the company commander valued him, he would surely dispatch a medic—perhaps yielding better results than reporting Sokholov or Samir Bek wounded.
But Sokholov didn't speak. Glaski remarked coldly from the side, "Won't work. If you're hit and wounded, you're useless too. The company commander... won't let a valuable medic die halfway here just to save a useless casualty."
*Is it really that brutal?*
Gao Fei was left speechless.
Retreating with Sokholov would get them blown up by drones.
Waiting for a medic wasn't realistic either. Putting aside whether one would even be dispatched, even if a medic came, they would most likely be killed by a drone en route.
So over a wound that wasn't necessarily fatal, he was just supposed to wait to die?
Damn it all to hell—how did these Russians even fight a war?!
Gao Fei wanted to curse, but he didn't even know whom to direct his anger at.
Drones. Those damned drones again.
"Stop the bleeding first. Tourniquet the thigh, apply medicine, maybe it'll stop after a bit," Andrey tentatively suggested.
A knife sliced open Sokholov's trouser leg, revealing a wound that continued to seep blood.
It was on the inner back of his thigh. The blood wasn't spurting, but the volume was alarming.
Seeing Sokholov's wound clearly, the soldier who seemed somewhat more experienced said quietly, "It won't stop. It's not a major artery, but with this much bleeding, he won't last long without surgery."
Treating him as he spoke, the soldier secured a strap around Sokholov's thigh and pulled it taut. The blood flow diminished significantly.
Yet blood still kept oozing out.
Sokholov murmured, "A medic will come. Don't worry, boys... My mother lives in Moscow. When I die, they should send the death gratuity to her. But I have some cash and savings. If you ever get the chance, help me get the money to my mother. Glaski, you know the address."
Gao Fei suddenly asked, "How long can he hold out?"
"I don't know. The tourniquet needs to be loosened every fifteen to thirty minutes to restore circulation, or the squad leader's leg will suffer necrosis from lack of blood. The longer the interval between loosening, the longer he survives, but the leg might die. The shorter the interval, the less time he has to live, but the leg can be saved. If the bleeding stops, he'll last longer, but without surgery it's no use. No surgery, he definitely dies."
The wound truly wasn't catastrophic; it was the Russian military's abysmal logistics and medical support that made Sokholov's injury a death sentence.
Gao Fei let out a breath, then said in a low voice, "I have an idea."
Everyone turned to look at him.
Gao Fei said quietly, "Hold out until dawn. We can't see the drones right now—thermal optics and night-vision devices aren't enough. But once daylight comes, I'll be able to spot them."
No one spoke. Gao Fei continued, "Do you trust me? If you do, come with me at dawn to carry the squad leader back."
Gao Fei's idea was reckless and bold.
Yet Glaski answered without hesitation, "Count me in."
Andrey hesitated for a second, but quickly chimed in, "I should go instead. I'm not much use staying here. Rex, I'm coming with you. I trust you!"
Chapter 64