Chapter 265
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Chapter 265: An Unusual Scene
To make it out of here, they needed at least seven days’ worth of supplies. The vehicles would also require three days, and in the complicated mountainous terrain, sometimes cars weren’t any faster than walking.
If they didn’t solve the supply issue, even if the people in Gem Valley didn’t come out to attack them, less than thirty percent of the coalition would make it out alive, assuming there were further supply transports on the way.
Just the food and water could deplete most of their numbers.
Those who deduced this outcome were taken aback. They had only brought enough supplies for a three-day breakthrough at the mountain pass, after which they intended to enter the valley, utilize natural resources and wait for subsequent supply and construction teams to arrive, with a maximum sustainment of fifteen days.
Now, with most of the supplies destroyed, the remaining food and water would only last them a day and a half, and the coalition teetered on the edge of collapse.
The smarter leaders among them considered this problem and quietly instructed their subordinates to gather food and ammunition.
During the hours Lawrence lay unconscious, fights broke out in the camp, and the previously united leaders began to fracture over survival resources, leading to the emergence of new factions.
Had Lawrence not awakened in time, these armed militants, driven by desperation, might have become like wild beasts, completely losing control and engaging in endless infighting.
The sudden sharp gunfire startled those with ulterior motives and served as a strong warning to those with malicious intent.
The big man Lawrence was not dead; he could still shoot and anyone who refused to obey could end up on the receiving end of a bullet.
Seeing that everyone quieted down, they found a place to sit on the ground, waiting for Lawrence’s solution.
“Everyone knows we’ve lost a lot of supplies. It’s very likely we won’t hold out until the next batch arrives. I’ve requested support, and I expect there to be planes dropping supplies soon, so don’t panic and don’t act recklessly.”
Lawrence’s confidence and composure seemed to return; his authoritative gaze swept over the leaders, and it was clear that his words relaxed many of their expressions.
This was indeed good news; aerial supply drops were much better than trying to haul supplies through the mountainous terrain using vehicles or animals, and only Lawrence had the strength to accomplish this.
Yet no one knew that Lawrence had told a colossal lie; he had not requested help from anyone.
These incapable individuals hadn’t even captured the mountain pass; they had not only suffered casualties but had also had their supplies destroyed, making it unnecessary to continue wasting resources on them.
To take this job, he earned only a small commission, and the mysterious missing team along with the two Striker armored vehicles was already enough of a headache for him to explain to “the other side.” He certainly wouldn’t spend his own money to feed these losers.
He also worried whether “the other side” had managed to deal with the “Silver Devil,” but that was not his immediate concern; he just wanted to survive this ordeal. The situation had deteriorated beyond anyone’s imagination; the current calm was merely a facade hiding the tumultuous storm underneath that could erupt at any moment.
Weapons, ammunition, and food supplies were bought with enormous sums of money, and they didn’t come easily. He believed the organizations behind these leaders would also not continue to foot the bill for their stupidity.
“Silence!”
Lawrence blew the smoke from his gun barrel, calming the restive leaders. He had not finished speaking.
“I am very unhappy with you all. I’m extremely disappointed. Yes, you are all worthless. Don’t look at me like that; the fact is the fact. The enemy can send out fewer combatants than you have, yet all of you are wiped out. Fine, this morning you had double the enemy’s numbers, yet you still suffered a crushing defeat. Am I wrong? You are a bunch of useless fools.”
Lawrence disregarded the fury that flooded the faces of the leaders he called “fools.” Some even suppressed their impulse to stand and argue with him, fearing they would get caught in the crossfire.
He didn’t need to and shouldn’t consider the feelings of these “fools.”
If last night and this morning, they had successfully broken into the valley, these people might have had the right to earn his respect; otherwise, they wouldn’t even make it into his line of sight.
“Alright, fools, I am giving you one last chance!”
Lawrence sipped some tea; this wretched brew was bitter and astringent, hardly comparable to rich coffee or tempting red wine. He had no thoughts to complain about the bitter Afghan tea; he needed to quickly calm the scene, either complete the plan they had established or just abandon ship and run.
“Listen up! It is three in the afternoon. In four hours, the sun will set. All of you, grab your weapons and take all the ammunition. At all costs, regardless of casualties, you must break through the mountain pass before sundown. Otherwise, you can wait here to be dried out as human jerky, and there will be no more supplies coming. The food will only be given to those who are useful; the useless can eat shit!”
Lawrence’s words were biting and made all the leaders change color. On one side, it was Lawrence’s contempt for them; on the other, if they failed to take the pass, they would face certain death in the vast, barren northern mountains of Afghanistan, with no food or drink. How could they find a way to survive?
But Lawrence also successfully stirred their resolve. With the supplies nearly depleted, breaking through the mountain pass was a matter of life or death.
Reality was cruel, and Allah had not granted them a second chance.
In fact, Lawrence had a hidden agenda: the more people who died, the more supplies would be left for those who survived. Casualties in battle were currently the best way to reduce resource consumption. If they could break into the valley, everything would change.
……
“Everyone capable of picking up a gun, hurry to the mountain pass! The enemy is launching a full-scale attack!”
The fierce gunfire outside the mountain pass confirmed to the people in the resettlement camp of Gem Valley that the enemy was determined to fight to the death.
The corpses retrieved last night were just wrapped in shrouds. The family members hadn’t yet had time to express their grief through frantic cries.
The vicious enemy continued their assault, forcing the civilians in the valley to suppress their sadness and desperately prepare logistics for the front line—food, medical care for the injured, suppressing magazines and belts, organizing personnel to transport arms to the mountain pass.
The soldiers at the mountain pass were fighting hard, and the civilians in the valley were also giving their all, with some elderly individuals and young men shouldering AK-47s as they climbed to the battlefield, aiming at the enemy and pulling the trigger.
The coalition had gone mad, charging toward the mountain pass in chaotic formations. Each armed militant had received the message from their leaders that they were trapped and could either charge into the valley to seize a flicker of hope or remain here forever, returning to the earth.
This was a microcosm of the war-torn regions of Afghanistan, all in the name of survival.
Lin Mo’s P-51 "Mustang" soared into the sky again. The Pashtun strong young men, who had remained to provide support, were now withdrawn to guard the mountain pass due to the escalating conflict, leaving Lin Mo to handle everything himself before takeoff.
As this World War II relic made its return, the battlefield for the mountain pass made Lin Mo gasp in horror.
Hundreds of people were locked in a life-and-death struggle in a space of less than two or three square kilometers, and the intensity of gunfire revealed a web of bullets across the ground, relentless and continuous.
This was far more brutal than the trench warfare faced by the Indians and Pakistanis; the coalition forces cared nothing for casualties, exposing themselves to enemy fire as they unleashed their bullets upon the enemy’s positions.
A people born from this barren land didn’t hold back when their blood ran hot, taking extreme measures, hence the prevalence of suicide bombers and assaults.
The attack from the coalition armed militants achieved notable results as the left flank of Gem Valley was fiercely breached by a suicide squad, who threw explosives and grenades without regard for their own lives, hacking their way through to success. More Pashtun people surged out from behind the breached positions, both sides exposed to each other’s fire, automatic weapons swiftly reaping lives, leading to a simultaneous increase in casualties.
The P-51 "Mustang" rolled in the sky, no longer showing off its acrobatic flight skills; the dire situation on the ground prompted Lin Mo to drop the two 50-kilogram bombs hanging under the wings first, creating two vast black, radiating explosion marks on the ground. The dense enemy did not need to aim, as there were armed militants charging wildly in every direction, creating a chilling scene of fallen bodies.
After dropping the bombs, the "Mustang" joyfully dove toward the ground, unleashing bursts of gunfire, and armed militants fell one after another, blood spraying from their wounds. The 7.62mm caliber PKM machine gun bullets, while not as powerful as the 12.7mm Browning heavy machine gun rounds to tear a person apart, were still deadly.
Lin Mo was like a diligent farmer plowing the ground with blood-red furrows.
Suddenly, crackling noise emerged from the radio channel. Lin Mo adjusted the dials, feeling something was off, and knocked the receiver in the cockpit. “Gem Valley, Gem Valley, is there communication interference?”
“‘Knight’ sir, communication is normal!”
The channel still crackled with static; after all, it was a patchwork communication system, poorly resistant to interference. However, amidst the desolate mountains, Lin Mo found it curious that any interference could occur.
Yet, one of the six dish-sized mirrors in the cockpit transmitted an unusual image.
