Chapter 226
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Chapter 226: Invasion & Assault
“Speak, old Kori! Let’s see if you’re as tough as this stone fortress. Ha ha, what a coincidence! Your codename is the same as this castle! This must be the will of Allah! This is your final resting place, old man! You should consider yourself honored!”
With a voice as grating as a demon’s, the savage dual-degree master Harikhan took more pleasure in torture and abuse than in questioning. He even wished his victim would hold on a bit longer.
“Bah!” Kori, the intelligence personnel with the codename "Lapis Lazuli," widened his eyes suddenly, spitting blood that fell helplessly half a meter away, barely touching Harikhan’s shoe.
With four fractured ribs and bruises all over, his face was pale, and his white beard was singed away to a few strands. Several gaping wounds were bleeding profusely, and Kori’s color was fading fast.
“Oh ho ho! Old man, you still have some fight in you!”
Harikhan waggled something new in his hand, dripping with human blood and flesh, releasing a smell of scorched grease from the electric current frying it.
“Allah will punish all of you traitors!” Kori’s voice was weak, barely more than a mosquito’s buzz, as he prepared for the worst.
Kori’s gaze shifted to his comrade, "Cotton Flower," who, besides being utterly terrified, now had a pair of once-neat little moustaches that looked utterly disheveled.
“Cotton Flower” had also endured severe torment and was barely hanging on, just as the other informants in the cell were suffering.
“What did you say, old man? I didn’t hear you!”
Harikhan showed his bloodthirsty grin and was furious about the blood Kori had spat on his shoe. He kicked Kori’s leg, making him emit a low groan of pain.
Seeming unsatisfied with just that, Harikhan pressed a thorny electric whip directly against Kori’s face. “Old man, this is American merchandise, 511—authentic gear worn by U.S. soldiers. I got it with great difficulty, and now you’ve dirtied it! You will pay for that.”
The older Kori trembled violently under the electric shock, horrible wounds appearing on his face. Smoke rose as the flesh charred, producing a foul smell. When Kori began to show signs of rolling his eyes back, Harikhan finally removed the thorny whip, but Kori’s face was already unrecognizable.
Knock, knock, knock!
The heavy steel door of the interrogation room was slammed loudly.
“Who? Didn’t I say no one is allowed to disturb me during this time? Who’s out there?” Harikhan growled in anger at the sudden knocking, frustrated at the interruption in his proceedings.
The knocking grew louder, apparently disregarding Harikhan’s fury. Muddled voices from outside sounded urgent.
His gaze fell on the quivering traitor, "Moustache," huddled in the corner. With eyes glaring like molten brass, he yelled, “Idiot! Why are you just standing there? Go open the door and see which bastard dares to defy my orders! I’ll rip out his intestines and wrap them around his neck three times! I mean it!”
The two East Turkestan militants in the room sneered, kicking the poor guy and threatening him with the red-hot poker they held.
“Yes, yes, yes! I’ll go right now!” In a panic, "Moustache" stumbled toward the interrogation room’s door, colliding with heavy torture instruments lining the corridor that made him wince and groan in pain.
The collision between his body and the tools often ended badly for the person, and though he wasn’t being tortured, that short distance felt no different from actually being punished.
Unbeknownst to him, the knocking had stopped. Just as his hand grasped the doorknob, suddenly, a tremendous crash shattered the steel door into countless fragments that rushed toward him. He had no time to react and was plunged into darkness.
This was the final memory of “Moustache.”
Traitors are often the first to go because they lose their usefulness first.
Boom!
A powerful shockwave surged through the interrogation room, a cloud of smoke enveloping everything.
“Enemy attack!” Harikhan shouted in shock and anger, reaching for his gun. But at the moment of the explosion, several figures rushed in like ghosts, red lasers immediately targeting everyone in the room.
Bang! Bang!
The sound of silenced gunfire filled the room as new entrants in helmets and armor seemed unaffected by the smoke, firing shots that struck flesh.
Just managing to touch his sidearm, Harikhan and his men were hit by a flurry of bullets, bleeding everywhere while the intruders acted swiftly and offensively.
Harikhan collapsed helplessly to the ground, the thorny whip with flesh and blood still clinging to it fell across his lower half. The live electric current sent him into convulsions, his body twitching, releasing a strange burnt odor. He had lost consciousness long before.
“‘Lapis Lazuli,’ ‘Cotton Flower,’ we are ‘Night’ here to rescue you!” A newcomer pulled out a flashlight-like device and twisted the switch. A bright orange beam shot out, quickly sweeping over the iron shackles, and with a crisp sound, the bound “Lapis Lazuli” and “Cotton Flower” were released.
Outside the interrogation room, intense explosions erupted suddenly, flames blazed wildly, and irritating tear gas canisters rolled out from various corners of the ancient castle, creating chaos.
The sounds of gunfire and explosions filled the entire castle.
“‘Squint’ hurry up and help! They’re too injured; I’m only giving you five minutes!” The person with the laser device called out over his shoulder.
A soldier in the same armor rushed over, carrying a small box. His hands moved swiftly, wielding a folding hunting knife, quickly tearing away their clothes while rapidly checking the injuries of the two rescued intelligence personnel, who occasionally winced in pain. They knew he was expertly resetting their broken bones.
“You finally came! I thought I was done for,” “Lapis Lazuli” said, his face twitching as he endured excruciating pain all over.
“Don’t worry, the higher-ups won’t easily give up on you. Today, not a single one of these guys will escape.” The first person assured, as a low rumble resonated from outside, growing louder.
An emergency battlefield spray enveloped their wounds, cleaning away dirt and dead tissue while delivering healing properties—this was a special military-grade Yunnan Baiyao spray. Not long after applying it, the evaporating agent sealed the bleeding, and emergency bandages were wrapped around the wounds. Finally, a syringe containing pain relief and potential boosters was readied, and each was injected into their carotid arteries.
Three minutes and twelve seconds!
The processing was incredibly fast, and the medical kit quickly closed up again.
“Help them up! Let’s go! The other five have also been rescued, we’re retreating!”
Two soldiers pulled out tall personal ballistic shields, holding them with one hand while supporting the two intelligence personnel with the other, starting to retreat. Outside, five soldiers in individual combat armor stood ready, waving their hands before charging out, firing mercilessly at the East Turkestan militants who suddenly appeared in their path.
Screams rang out one after another.
“Calling ‘Dragon Knight,’ calling ‘Dragon Knight,’ the operation has begun. Please take action immediately and open the friend-or-foe identification. I will send over the identification signal.”
The First Squad created chaos while the Second Squad handled the rescue. The two teams worked seamlessly together, successfully completing nearly three-quarters of their mission.
The booming noise in the sky grew louder as a small black dot rapidly approached.
“I have arrived, target detected. Please transmit the recognition signal.”
Lin Mo activated the heads-up display, and the location of the ancient castle showed several small green signals surrounded by a cluster of red marks, with the green signal trying to break through toward the main gate.
“I see it, target gate locked. One missile, launch!” The words barely left his mouth when a fire dragon shot from the wings, racing toward the castle built at the mountain’s end. A green laser positioning beam shot out from the narrow road atop the mountain, directing straight at the gate, closely followed by a shadow trailing distorted white smoke.
Boom!
The ancient castle, nearly five hundred years old and a stopover along the Silk Road for travelers and goods, had its thick stone gate disintegrate into rubble in an instant, the steel gate that had been added later exploding into a multitude of fragments.
“Excellent work! We need fire support; they have too many people.”
Lin Mo heard the voice of the castle’s personnel breaking into the channel.
The East Turkestan militants in “Lapis Lazuli”‘s castle were clearly unprepared for the involvement of a fighter jet. The airstrike missile struck the city gate, creating an escape route. The militants inside the castle paused, momentarily stunned as gunfire was drowned out by the explosions.
Now, it seemed that the once-fortified castle walls were no longer so safe.
“Alright, brothers! Protect yourselves! Prepare the Rocket Pod, twelve missiles, launch!” Lin Mo’s helmet-mounted sight locked onto the rear of those green dots once again.
