Chapter 257
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Chapter 257: Azrael
"Sorry, Colonel Joy, they have all gone missing. We can’t find their location on the radar, and there’s no GPS signal for them either. Please take a look." Major Bill once again pulled up a larger map, but it still showed nothing.
The Striker wheeled armored vehicle has a maximum speed of only 80 kilometers per hour, and given the mountainous terrain, managing to reach 30 miles per hour would be a miracle. It was simply impossible for them to have crossed outside a radius of a hundred kilometers on the map in just over twenty minutes.
Furthermore, these satellite scan photos are already eighteen minutes old.
In the silence of the conference room, without any personal speculation from Major Bill, everyone faced a harsh reality: both Striker vehicles and the Cat Tail team conducting the "Hound" operation had completely vanished.
The conference room was eerily quiet, as if the earlier celebration had never happened. What was expected to be a smooth execution of the "Hound" operation had suddenly turned into a bizarre incident, as if they had collided with something supernatural.
"Right, contact that guy Lawrence. He is the ‘agent’; have him report the actual situation."
Suddenly, someone in the conference room had an idea, slamming their hand on the conference table and shouting loudly.
The room fell into chaos again. As for the original mission objectives, nobody had the heart to focus on those anymore; they were all much more concerned about the whereabouts of the task force codenamed "Cat Tail" and the two armored vehicles.
Both for America and the Afghan authorities, under no circumstances should news of this armed group conducting a special mission in this location at this time be made public. Some matters are better kept in the shadows…
…
"Uh!" When the mercenary leader Abik regained consciousness and slowly opened his eyes, he saw the inside of a tent, with light playfully creeping through the seams of the tent fabric.
"Azrael!" Abik said absentmindedly, blinking in disbelief, unable to comprehend why he had uttered that word.
Azrael—a term with special significance in Islamic doctrine, derived from the Arabic language, representing one of the famous angels in the Quran, known as the angel of death. In the Christian Bible, he is regarded alongside Uriel, Gabriel, and Michael as one of the four great angels of Allah, whose specific mission is to oversee death and claim souls. Although his name is not mentioned in the Quran, he is referred to as "the angel of death" (Malak al-Mawt), making Azrael one of the most fearsome angels.
A person is alive as long as their soul exists within them, and once the soul is extracted, the person dies. Azrael is the taker of every soul.
Legend has it that he is enormous, with one foot standing on the fourth (or seventh) heaven and the other on a bridge leading from hell to paradise. He has 4,000 wings, and out of necessity for his duty, his body is covered with eyes and tongues, the number always equal to that of the living.
"Wings…" Abik felt a throbbing headache as he gradually recalled the moment just before he lost consciousness, when a pair of gigantic silver wings burst forth in a blinding light, vanishing moments later into countless feathers.
“Oh no, the ‘Knight’ has fallen! I need to hurry and report to the village chiefs!” Abik’s expression changed as he remembered the terrifying torrents of metal flying with dark red projectiles; not only would people perish, but even the strongest fortress would turn to ashes.
He struggled to his feet, staggering as he opened the tent flap, and outside, a newly risen red sun cast its light upon him.
Daylight had arrived!
Abik’s heart raced with urgency; the losses from last night were unimaginable, and he shouted, “Mude Zariyev, Zayeeri, Gaitulu…”
He called out repeatedly for the names of various village chiefs; these men made crucial decisions for the migratory group.
“Chief, chief! You’re awake!” A familiar voice came from Abik’s left side.
Abik turned sharply, surprised. “Thank goodness! Is it you, Hido? The Gem Valley hasn’t been breached? That’s fantastic! Quick, take me to see Mude Zariyev. I have important information to report.”
“Yes, yes, don’t get too excited, Chief. We have not been breached. Although the losses at the mountain pass were significant, the second team of young men is doing well, and we can still fight.”
A middle-aged man, wearing a black beret and American-style camouflage vest, with a protruding belly, walked toward Abik quickly with joy, looking him over with relief. Thank Allah, the chief was awake and appeared to be well.
Abik grabbed Hido’s shoulders anxiously and asked, “What about the casualties at the mountain pass? Right, I must urgently report to the chiefs that the ‘Knight’ has returned to Allah’s embrace for us. We need to find someone who can pilot a fighter jet immediately. We must revise our plans and prepare a suicide squad to leave here as soon as possible; the enemy is far too terrifying.”
Last night’s attack left him feeling that the force they faced was horrifying; it was certainly not just a coalition of the Taliban, Jamaat al-Tableeg, the Holy War Army, and the World Uyghur Congress.
They possessed weapons of unmatched ferocity, more destructive than fighter jets, tanks, and heavy artillery. With just a bit more firepower, even the American soldiers stationed in Afghanistan could be easily driven away. A deep sense of helplessness and despair welled up within Abik.
If that kind of devastating weapon were aimed at him and the people within Gem Valley, they wouldn’t even need to send in any troops; they could effortlessly wipe out the entire valley.
“Wait, Chief, are you hurt on your head?” Hido looked at his chief with a strange expression and continued, “In the early hours, the ‘Knight’ was the one who brought you here. How could you say he is dead? He’s perfectly fine, still with the village chiefs. I just delivered fried meat pies and rice to them.”
“Uh, what did you say? The ‘Knight’ is alive?” The mercenary leader Abik stared wide-eyed, gripping his subordinate’s shoulders tightly.
“Chief, gently! You’re hurting me!” Hido clearly didn’t expect his chief to be so strong, and he squirmed free.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Hido! I was too rough!” Abik apologized, releasing his grip. He then asked, “Did you really just say that the ‘Knight’ brought me back? Is that true?”
“Of course it’s true! He carried you back like he was hauling a sack. It wasn’t just me; many people saw it. There were less than ten people alive outside the mountain pass, and I heard someone used a shock grenade. Kadiya took over a hundred men to relieve the defenses, and the enemy hasn’t launched an attack since.” Hido found it odd; was the chief’s mind foggy? They needed him to defeat the enemy and protect this beautiful valley.
“He’s really alive?!” Abik gasped, eyes wide, taking a deep breath as his gaze shifted elsewhere. He had witnessed the ‘Knight’ being engulfed by a barrage of explosions, but Hido was confidently telling him that it was the ‘Knight’ who brought him back. How could this be?
White light! Silver wings! Azrael!
Just recovering from unconsciousness, the mercenary leader shook his head. Damn it, it must have been that powerful shock grenade that scrambled his mind.
“Hido, take me to see the village chiefs.” Abik rubbed his face to regain his usual calm and composure.
“I—I suggest you let a doctor take a look at you. We have a good doctor here who studied in India.” Hido tentatively suggested, noticing that the chief didn’t seem to be in the best state.
“No need! Just lead the way!” Abik’s tone carried an undeniable authority; the decisively commanding leader was back.
Inside a tent, the aroma of milk tea wafted out. As Abik lifted the flap, he slipped off his boots and entered.
“Abik, are you feeling better?” Village chief Mude Zariyev and several others gathered around, discussing matters and enjoying milk tea after breakfast. Afghans have an obsession with tea, embedding it deeply into their culture, often using it as a bridge for communication. Tea is an essential element during gatherings and discussions.
“Good morning, chiefs!” Abik bowed to the assembled leaders, then his gaze shifted to Lin Mo, who was in a corner, munching on flatbread, and he could not look away.
“’Knight’, it’s wonderful to see you’re all right. Thank you so much for saving me.” Abik knew all too well how dangerous it would have been to leave him outside the mountain pass. With sincere gratitude, he bowed deeply to Lin Mo, then embraced him twice before sitting across from him.
Of course, Abik would have been happy to use a kissing greeting, but considering the customs of the other party, he refrained.
“’Knight’, what is the situation at the mountain pass? Are you hurt?”
The mercenary leader Abik had missed the information after the battle ended, and he eagerly wanted to know the current state of the mountain pass. The tents where the village chiefs gathered served as the command center and were the hub for all critical information.
“Don’t worry. You haven’t eaten breakfast yet, have you? Let’s eat together here; you drink while I update you.” Lin Mo poured Abik a cup of black tea from an empty cup. This rough tea brick was even imported from China; although made from old leaves compressed, it was perfect for settling the stomach.
