Chapter 22: Close Quarters

"Cook! Cover me!"

Song Heping’s voice crackled through Cook’s earpiece.

Without a second thought, Cook leveled his rifle and unleashed a hail of suppressive fire toward the overpass.

"Grey Wolf! Keep them pinned on the bridge! Buy 'Zang' some time!"

Upon receiving the order, Grey Wolf disregarded his own safety and returned fire. Their desperate, ferocious counterattack caught the militants on the overpass off guard, forcing them to duck and scramble for cover.

Seizing the opening, Song Heping successfully reached the side of the Patrol SUV. He yanked the door open to find 'The Queen' in the backseat, cursing incessantly in Russian. Upon seeing Song Heping, she looked at him as if he were her salvation and immediately launched into a string of complaints.

"I don't know how this bitch has so much strength! Help me, quickly!"

Without waiting, she abandoned her weapon, grabbed Angel’s arms, and pulled with all her might. She soon realized she couldn't budge her.

"Her feet! Move her feet!" she roared at Song Heping.

Only then did Song Heping see it clearly: Angel’s feet were wedged firmly under the base of the front seat, bracing against the front and rear seats like a massive, locking latch. In a state of extreme panic, the human body can become rigid, granting a person astonishing strength—and Angel was certainly no delicate flower. It was no wonder The Queen couldn't handle her.

Song Heping reached in to pry the woman’s legs loose. After a Herculean effort, he finally managed to break her grip, but Angel suddenly let out a shrill scream and kicked him squarely in the chest, sending him sprawling out of the car.

"Damn it!"

Even Song Heping couldn't help but curse. That kick from the crazy woman was no joke. She was strong! It seemed she worked out; those legs were solid.

Song Heping’s temper flared. If this went on any longer, the militants on the overpass would recover, and a single RPG round would kill them all. She might be looking for a death wish, but he certainly wasn't!

He scrambled to his feet and lunged back inside. This time, he didn't bother with her legs. He climbed directly onto Angel, wound up his hand, and slapped her across the face, left and right, with full force.

"Zang, what are you doing!"

Yulia, The Queen, didn't understand Song Heping’s tactics. As a security professional, seeing someone assault a VIP was unheard of.

Song Heping kept slapping her while shouting, "You idiot! Wake up! Do you want to die here?! Wake up, you fool!"

Perhaps the slaps were simply too violent, but Angel suddenly let out a wail and began to cry. It was genuine pain. She loosened her grip, kicked out, and began clawing, scratching, and thrashing at Song Heping.

"FK, you dare hit me! You bastard! You dare hit me!" she shrieked through her tears.

Taking advantage of her loosened grip, Song Heping roared at The Queen, "You idiot, why aren't you doing something?! Are you as stupid as she is?!"

The Queen finally realized what to do. She grabbed Angel’s arms, and while the woman was distracted and not holding onto the seatbelt, she hauled her out of the vehicle. Song Heping, ignoring Angel’s flailing and wailing, grabbed her feet. Together, they heaved the troublesome foreign woman out of the car like a sack of dead weight.

"Hold her down!"

Once on the ground, Song Heping didn't waste time. He drew a zip-tie from his belt, twisted Angel’s hands behind her back, and began binding them. Dealing with this kind of VIP was truly the worst luck of his life. He decided he would just bind her up and throw her over his shoulder; it would be easier than this.

The ten-thousand-dollar-a-day protection fee was certainly not easy money. The risks were directly proportional to the income.

Just as Song Heping was tightening the restraints, a militant suddenly emerged from the side, an AK-47 leveled directly at him and The Queen. Song Heping’s skin crawled. The appearance of the militant was completely unexpected; he hadn't even noticed where he had popped out from.

"We're done for..."

It was already too late for Song Heping to reach for his weapon.

*Rat-tat-tat!*

Just as Song Heping thought he was surely finished, a burst of gunfire from the side mowed the militant down. He looked back and saw White Bear crouching behind a nearby vehicle.

"You owe me your life, Zang!" White Bear’s face was etched with smugness.

Song Heping didn't have time to analyze how White Bear had appeared or why the militant had shown up there. His priority was to get Angel out of this death trap.

*Whiz—*

The familiar sound of an RPG rocket flying through the air echoed again. Then came the explosion.

*Boom—*

Luckily, the shot went wide, striking another civilian vehicle nearby. However, the shockwave from the blast sent both Song Heping and Yulia sprawling to the ground.

"Provide cover! I’ll carry her!"

They could not stay here any longer. As Song Heping scrambled up to hoist Angel onto his back, he heard a cacophony of metallic clinking all around him.

His heart sank. It meant the militants on the overpass had focused their fire on their position; they had clearly spotted the mercenaries hiding there.

Song Heping couldn't even lift his head. The windshield of their Patrol SUV was shattered instantly, and bullets tore through the body of the vehicle. A bullet hole appeared in the metal just ten centimeters from Song Heping’s face.

"Hiss—"

Yulia’s sharp intake of breath was crystal clear.

"What happened?"

"Ricochet!"

Yulia clutched her calf. Song Heping saw bloodstains appearing on her tactical trousers. She was one tough woman; she hadn't even let out a cry!

"Get behind the car!"

As he spoke, Song Heping grabbed the vest Angel was wearing and dragged her toward the rear of the vehicle like a dog.

"We can't escape," he realized after ducking behind the car. The danger wasn't over. Hiding here wasn't entirely safe—it would only take one RPG.

He began to listen intently for the direction of the gunfire. After a moment, his face turned deathly pale. He could tell from the sound that the number of militants had increased, and they were closing in from all directions.

Cook’s voice crackled in his earpiece: "Contacts at nine o'clock, two o'clock, and twelve o'clock! Watch out!"

Cook’s warning was laced with tension; Song Heping could tell his situation was dire as well.

"Watch her. I’m going to see what’s happening."

Leaving Angel with The Queen, Song Heping crouched low and sprinted to the back of an adjacent vehicle. From here, his field of vision covered the seven-to-twelve-o'clock sector. With Cook and Grey Wolf on the right and White Bear in the center, the left flank was dangerously exposed. He had to plug the gap before the enemy broke through.

Hiding behind the car, Song Heping carefully poked his head out from the rear corner to observe the nine-o'clock position.

He didn't even have time to register what he saw before he was face-to-face with two militants. They were less than two meters apart! The enemy had been creeping up to launch a surprise attack. Clearly, both sides were equally shocked by the encounter; both froze for a split second.

Almost simultaneously, both sides leveled their rifles at each other.