Chapter 38: Chaos

Thomas had employed a dirty tactic, effectively backing Colonel Brown into a corner. Now, the Colonel was stuck in a position he couldn't easily escape. Since the target had been eliminated without prior confirmation, the situation was now a fait accompli. Thomas would only have dared to pull such a stunt with the backing of Langley. This was no time to assign blame; the only option was to accept reality and clean up the mess. At the very least, it would ensure that when they reported to their superiors, the outcome wouldn't look quite so disastrous.

"Sir, the forward team is requesting further instructions." A subordinate asked for Colonel Brown's command.

"Tell them to clear the area. I must have Saif's body."

"And the girl?"

"She's not important. Let her go."

"Understood!"

The order was transmitted immediately.

Rappelling down a 30-meter dam while carrying Angel was an experience Song Heping had never attempted before. With their combined weight of nearly 300 pounds, it was only thanks to the friction of the figure-eight descender that he didn't lose his grip. Song could clearly feel the searing heat radiating through his tactical gloves from the intense friction; it felt as though the gloves themselves were about to ignite.

During the descent, bullets whizzed past them. It was clear that the men Mr. J had stationed nearby had begun their assault on him and Angel. They obviously viewed Song's side as treacherous villains who had deliberately set a trap to lure Mr. J into the open just to assassinate him. At this point, he couldn't wash the suspicion off even if he jumped into the Yellow River.

*Survival first.*

Whether or not he could complete the transaction with Mr. J was no longer Song's concern. Getting Angel out safely was the only thing that mattered. That was the crux of the matter.

Finally, the rope reached its end. Song Heping, still clutching Angel, dropped from a height of over ten meters. With a thunderous splash, they crashed deep into the water, sending spray flying two meters high. The icy river water, however, brought a sense of calm. Song pulled Angel to the surface.

"Swim!" He pointed toward Gray Wolf's position.

They only needed to swim these few dozen meters to reach the bank; the vehicle was waiting in the woods, and once they reached it, they could drive away. In the darkness, gunfire erupted repeatedly. Judging by the sound, the third party lurking in the shadows had clearly engaged in a firefight with Mr. J's men. The distinct reports of the Chef's and White Bear's RPD light machine guns were also audible.

The situation had descended into complete chaos. Song had no idea who this third party was. Were they military? Intelligence operatives? Or the PMU? Any of these was possible. Regardless, Song desperately wanted to slaughter the third party hiding in the shadows. It was obvious these people had intended for him and Angel to die on that dam. Regardless of who they were, he would keep a tally; sooner or later, he would make them pay.

***

While swimming toward the bank, Song Heping tried to keep himself and Angel as submerged as possible, as this would minimize the risk of bullet wounds. Water was a fascinating substance—a natural bulletproof vest. Most projectiles lost their lethality almost immediately upon entering the water, unless they were specialized, purpose-built underwater ammunition. In a firefight, if there happened to be a river or sea nearby, jumping in to dodge bullets wasn't just a possibility; it was a highly reliable tactic.

Heaven must have been looking out for them. Song reached the bank safely. Angel's swimming skills also surprised him. He had asked her earlier if she could swim, and she had claimed to be quite proficient, having been on her university team at Yale. It appeared she hadn't been lying.

Once they climbed ashore, Gray Wolf, who had come to meet them, was completely bewildered and immediately asked, "Who the hell was doing the shooting back there!?"

"I'd like to know that myself!" Song replied.

Angel stood to the side, shaking uncontrollably. "It must be Langley! They want me dead more than anyone!"

Gray Wolf said, "We have to move! If those are operatives from Langley's Special Activities Center, we're in no position to cross them!"

Just as they were about to move, Song pulled them back.

"Wait!"

"Wait for what? We need to pull out now!"

The cold water had soaked Song, and the previous tension had given way to a state of absolute, icy clarity. The escape training he had received in the past now kicked in.

"Chef, what's your situation?" Song asked over the tactical channel.

"It's total chaos. I don't even know who's shooting at whom! Stick to the extraction plan. We're heading to that Lincoln parked by the dam. Get in with Gray Wolf and the others. I've already notified the ISF; they're on their way as planned. We'll rendezvous with them halfway. We can't stay here, get moving!"

Song listened carefully to the gunfire. It was indeed chaotic, with shots coming from every direction. But the strangest thing was that the most intense gunfire was coming from the direction of the dam. Were they attacking the dam? He and Angel had already fled; why were they still attacking the structure? There was no one left up there. Logically, since Mr. J was dead and he had escaped, the subordinates should have dispersed. Even if they wanted revenge against him and Angel, they should have been attacking this side. Why attack the dam?

Just then, Song and Gray Wolf heard a strange whistling sound from the sky.

"Get down!"

It sounded exactly like the whistle of an incoming shell. Song hooked his arm around Angel's neck, skillfully pinning her to the ground. Seconds later, they witnessed a terrifying sight: fire descended from the sky, striking the opposite bank of the dam and blowing an armed pickup truck to pieces.

"A drone..." Song realized with a jolt.

The opposition was definitely U.S. Special Forces. No one else could coordinate a drone strike—it certainly wasn't a civilian militia like the PMU.

"I understand now... they're here to recover the body!"

He had been puzzled by the intensity of the firefight near the dam, but seeing the drone, it all made sense. Special Forces teams always conduct post-mission site confirmation. They would collect fingerprints, take photographs, and even gather DNA from the bodies of their targets to confirm they were truly dead. If conditions permitted, they would take the bodies with them. If Mr. J was as important as Angel had claimed, Langley would be desperate to secure his remains.

"Zang, are you okay?!" Gray Wolf grew anxious seeing Song staring blankly at the ground. Every second was a matter of life and death.

"Don't be in such a hurry to pull out," Song told Gray Wolf. "If it's U.S. Special Forces, they definitely have people covering the perimeter. If we try to break out now, we'll walk straight into their guns!"

He immediately relayed this situation and his assessment to the Chef over the radio, warning them to be careful of encountering U.S. Special Forces during their own extraction.

Gray Wolf countered, "Even if they have the perimeter covered, we have to push through! Staying here is a death sentence!"

"No! We stay in the woods, and they will come to us! When they do..." Song made a throat-slitting gesture. "I don't care what kind of special forces they are, we'll kill them first!"

Gray Wolf hesitated, feeling the logic held weight but fearing the risk. "Zang, are you sure they'll come?"

"I'm not certain, but I am certain that if we rush out blindly, we'll die! This is tactical psychology—we have to do the opposite of what they expect!"

"Where did you learn all this?" Gray Wolf asked. "Have you tried it before?"

Song gave a bitter smile. "I have." He had indeed tried it—though only in simulated training exercises, not in actual combat. But there was no time to explain to Gray Wolf. He would have to apply what he had learned. As for whether it would work, he would leave that to fate.

Gray Wolf seemed to struggle with the decision, but finally gritted his teeth and said, "Fine. I trust you."

Song turned to Angel. "Do you trust me?"

Angel looked as if she were about to cry. Song raised a hand: "Don't cry, or I'll hit you!"

Angel took a deep breath, suppressed her emotions, and nodded firmly, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, I trust you."

Song pulled her to the side. Because this was a river region, there were many low-lying areas and swamps with dense vegetation. Song pressed Angel into a mud pit and instructed Gray Wolf to hide in another one about seven meters to his left.

"Gray Wolf, smear some mud on yourself. These guys have infrared night vision."

He then grabbed a handful of stinking, wet mud and smeared it directly over Angel's face. She instinctively recoiled.

"If you want to live, do as I say!" Song commanded firmly.

Soon, they were both covered in mud. Gray Wolf did the same. Within moments, the three of them were indistinguishable from the mud, completely hidden in the darkness.

Hardly had they settled into their positions when Song heard the rustling of movement ahead.

*Jackpot.*

He had guessed correctly. The U.S. Special Forces members hiding in the shadows were closing their search perimeter.