053 Ambushed (Second Update—Please Bookmark!)
North Africa.
Inside a U.S. overseas military base located in Egypt.
Large quantities of military supplies were being unloaded from the belly of C-130 transport planes into the base’s storage facilities. The deafening roar of aircraft taking off and landing filled the air, accompanied by the shrill howl of fighter jets streaking overhead.
Not far away, on a stretch of sand, more than a dozen shirtless Marines were playing ball—a scene that played out nearly every day.
If not for the threat of war, such moments would undoubtedly be idyllic.
“Colonel, this is a classified message!”
Sloan Allen was the Operations Commander of the U.S. North Africa Command and the highest-ranking officer present.
He accepted the encrypted message, and a single glance at its contents made his brow furrow tightly.
“Damn Libyans!”
“Collins!”
“Collins!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Assemble the Marines at once.”
“Yes, sir!”
Three minutes later.
In the rapid response operations room, more than twenty American soldiers gathered together.
“Attention!”
“At ease!”
After sweeping his gaze over the group, Sloan wasted no words. He pulled the classified message from his pocket and spoke directly.
“Gentlemen, this is the latest intelligence from the CIA, just received from Libya. A short while ago, they intercepted a telegram sent from Tripoli to Sirte.”
The lights dimmed immediately.
A large map of northern Libya appeared on the main screen, showing the operational area along Sirte Bay. Major cities—Tripoli, Benghazi, Misrata, Sirte, and several others—were marked in red.
A wealth of intelligence scrolled along the sides, including the latest intercepted message.
“According to the intel, Commander Khamis of the Libyan government forces was not assassinated. He’s alive and well in Tripoli, and is assembling a mercenary team to escort a package to Sirte.
It’s suspected that this package contains a high-value Libyan figure—possibly even Gaddafi himself. Therefore, the order—”
The word “order” had barely left his lips
when the entire room snapped to attention, all the soldiers standing in solemn silence.
“Hobbs, you’ll lead this operation. Take Nightingale Squad to the intersection of Highway 88 and Highway 89 for an ambush.
Remember, you must bring the package back! Is that clear?”
“Sir, yes sir!”
“Dismissed!”
“Hobbs, come with me!”
The officer named Hobbs immediately followed Sloan out of the operations room.
“Sir!”
“Captain, this is a covert operation. You need to move quickly and decisively—there’s no room for delay. I’m giving you three hours. At 0600, a helicopter will pick you up at the designated point. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Good. Go make your preparations. You move after nightfall.”
Li Changjiang, of course, had no idea the Americans were already aware of their route. Had he known, he would never have accepted this mission.
Americans were notorious for meddling, but one couldn’t deny the overwhelming strength they commanded.
After leaving Tripoli, the convoy headed east along Highway 86.
Unlike their previous journey to Benghazi, Misrata was now under rebel control. They could no longer take Highway 86 straight east; instead, they had to head southeast first, switching to Highway 87, then pass through the junction of Highways 88 and 89 before finally reaching Sirte.
Li Changjiang may not have known this route, but Elisa was well aware that Khamis had personally devised it. She sensed something was off but couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.
The distance from Tripoli to Sirte wasn’t far—just a few hundred kilometers. Even moving at night, a five-hour trip from 2 a.m. would suffice; passing through Misrata would likely occur around 4 a.m.
By all logic, nothing should go wrong on this stretch.
But with Misrata now in rebel hands, no one could guarantee that the rebels wouldn’t be monitoring the north-south highways.
The government troops who’d attacked Benghazi had now retreated to fortify the area around Sirte. Effectively, the entire eastern region of Tripoli was now severed by the rebels, with Misrata as the dividing line—making it nearly impossible to respond quickly if anything happened at either end.
Yet, this situation had its advantages.
If rebel forces from Misrata moved out, they could easily find themselves trapped between two hostile fronts, making them hesitant to launch an assault.
Nevertheless,
Elisa still warned Li Changjiang to remain vigilant at all times, ready to evade at a moment’s notice.
On the battlefield, there is no such thing as luck.
Their journey was otherwise uneventful.
The seven or eight Libyan soldiers accompanying them wore scarves over their faces, making it impossible to read their expressions. The atmosphere was tense and oppressive, leaving Li Changjiang feeling increasingly uneasy.
The vehicle sped along.
Li Changjiang checked his watch; it was already past 4 a.m. local time. If all had gone according to plan, they should have already passed the most dangerous section of the route by now.
Sure enough, the Misrata rebels had not made a move.
Men are not machines. Even in the most perilous environments, nerves can be stretched to astonishing lengths, but once the danger passes, the sudden release can quickly bring on exhaustion.
Once Elisa confirmed they had cleared the area under Misrata’s control, Li Changjiang felt waves of drowsiness flooding his mind.
Forcing himself to stay alert, he continued to stare tensely at the Libyan soldier across from him, locked in a silent, watchful standoff.
At 5 a.m.
A faint glimmer of dawn was visible through the cracks along the sides of the vehicle.
The feeling of being in darkness is entirely different from seeing the first light of day. Realizing the night had passed, Li Changjiang finally let out a long sigh of relief, his eyelids so heavy he could barely keep them open. His mind felt thick and sluggish, as though filled with molasses.
The vehicle lurched and jolted several times. At last, unable to resist, he closed his eyes and dozed off.
Within moments, Li Changjiang slipped into a half-awake stupor, both hands still gripping his SDV sniper rifle tightly.
Then, suddenly,
a sharp, violent turn sent everyone in the vehicle tumbling to one side. Li Changjiang snapped awake, grabbing Elisa, who was about to be thrown from her seat, and forced her down beside him.
A barrage of fierce jolts followed.
A wave of intense unease and dread swept over Li Changjiang.
Before he could even shout, the vehicle crashed with a thunderous bang, as if some colossal force had flipped it over.
“****!”
“Elisa!”
Boom!
Ratatatat!
Bang! Bang!
Gunfire erupted all around, merging into a single, deafening cacophony.
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