126. A New Offensive (First Installment)
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“Jimmy! Jimmy!”
“Damn it!”
“James! James! Damn! James! Can you hear me? Fuck!”
Bang!
“Damn it! We’ve lost contact!”
Inside an underground building located within Misurata’s territory.
The room was dimly lit; the fluorescent light overhead flickered incessantly, its intermittent glow causing irritation while also casting a heavy, oppressive atmosphere.
The war had been raging for nearly five hours.
The heavy breathing was audible in the vast, empty space, likely an underground parking lot repurposed into a makeshift communications and command center.
Numerous maps of Libya and surrounding areas hung on the walls, with many targets marked in red or crossed out. Over a dozen computers tirelessly processed vast amounts of intelligence, their electronic beeps filling every corner of the workspace.
The entire underground base was divided into three main sections: the workroom, the lounge, and the activity room. The workroom buzzed with activity, while over twenty people used various fitness equipment in the activity room.
If one hadn’t seen it firsthand, it would be hard to believe such a secret base existed in the dilapidated city of Misurata—an installation not particularly well-hidden, yet difficult to detect.
No one would believe this secret outpost was established without the approval of the top leadership of the Libyan rebel forces.
The speaker was a man in his thirties, with an unremarkable appearance but striking blue eyes that now seemed to blaze with fury.
“They—”
“The mission has failed!”
The moment he spoke, silence engulfed the workroom.
They all understood the implications of a failed mission.
“Mr. Clark, what are our next steps?”
“How much time do we have left?”
The man’s face was grave; he knew their window was closing fast.
“Twenty-seven minutes.”
“We have twenty-seven minutes!”
“Immediately notify everyone to prepare for evacuation! Eve, you’re in charge of destroying all data—do it quickly! Will, gather all team members. This place will become a battlefield soon. We must evacuate, now!”
At his command, the base sprang into motion. Everyone began executing the prearranged plans: vast amounts of data were destroyed, sensitive materials and information that couldn’t be left behind were fed into high-temperature incinerators.
Soon,
The over twenty-member task force was fully prepared, fully armed, and assembled in the hall.
“Clark! We’re ready—12 minutes remaining!”
“Twelve minutes? That’s enough! Will, lead the team out and clear the perimeter obstacles. We’re heading out immediately!”
“Roger that. Contact Bernard—we need air support!”
“Mr. Clark, contact with the Dartmouth has been lost; we can’t reach them.”
“Fuck! Damn Libyans!”
Clark’s impatience was evident.
This branch had been established by MI5 well before the war began. Prior to the American squad’s entry into Misurata, some had even observed clashes between both sides.
Moreover, they held a top-secret dossier. Clark hadn’t transmitted it via any communication means but kept it backed up on a hard drive.
He had no doubt about one thing: once he safely returned this intelligence to Britain, he could leave this cursed place—and maybe even earn a promotion. But for now, the priority was to get out.
Boom!
Not far off, blazing fires soared into the sky, and streaks of bullets traced straight lines. Were it not for the bloodshed and death the war brought, the scene would resemble a grand fireworks display.
“Go! Go! Go!”
Short, sharp commands echoed as figures darted forward, swiftly advancing from the perimeter into Misurata’s interior.
The Libyan rebels and numerous mercenaries were attacking from the west and north sides. Few realized the government’s hired forces were making a wide flanking maneuver from the east, entering the city’s inner areas from the direction of Benghazi.
“Duke, maybe after this war, we’ll have to leave Libya.”
“Hy?”
Li Changjiang was puzzled.
Mercenaries dislike war?
What a joke. Without war, how would they make money? Though mercenaries carried themselves arrogantly, their pay wasn’t high.
Outside of war zones, where they could earn five to a thousand dollars a day, they mostly guarded properties, and a three-hundred-dollar daily wage was considered generous.
Most importantly, leaving Libya before finding Williams and the others? Impossible!
“My intelligence expert tells me that Western countries led by Britain and France will soon launch a new round of bombings, possibly deploying special forces for covert operations.
Duke, you know we don’t have the strength to confront the British or French directly.”
Batra’s tone was serious, even amid the ongoing advance.
Li Changjiang nodded silently, a mixture of frustration and irony stirring within him.
This was truly bad news.
Those bastards were stirring up trouble. They only got entangled with the Americans, and if fighting the British and French too, staying would be impossible—they’d have no choice but to retreat in disgrace.
Li Changjiang wasn’t under any illusion that his survival skills surpassed those of damn near anyone else.
“Damn it, hit the deck!”
Whoosh!
A streak of white smoke shot from the corner of the opposite street toward the moving squad.
An RPG!
Li Changjiang dropped quickly against the wall, covering his ears. Boom! The rocket exploded inside a building less than ten meters away, flames quickly engulfing the entire structure.
Raise the gun!
Bang! A returning RPG gunner was shot dead. Li Changjiang swiftly signaled a pincer movement.
Nicholas circled left with a tank and medic; Angel charged right with assassins and hackers.
Without hesitation, Li Changjiang dashed onto the building’s rooftop, found a firing position that covered both teams, and immediately began scanning for targets.
Bang!
Pop pop!
Two rapid shots eliminated a sniper hiding in the opposite building, but Batra’s irritated voice crackled through the earpiece.
“Fuck!”
“Batra, what’s the situation? Need backup?”
“Damn it, Duke, we’ve run into tough opposition—not Libyans!”
Bang! Rat-a-tat-tat!
The sound of Batra’s machine gun firing came through the comm.
“Take out that gunner, quickly!”
Li Changjiang frowned.
Not Libyans?
Could it be mercenaries?
While he pondered, voices from the tank and Angel echoed over the team channel.
“Safe! Boss, all obstacles cleared!” (To be continued.)