I manufacture weapons in the Middle East and am wanted globally?

Chapter 66 The Little Flying Stick is Here!

Daraa, Syria, Izra district frontline.

The civil war has been raging for almost a month, and the war situation has suddenly escalated.

The most critical issue is that European mercenaries have begun to enter the fray on a large scale.

Those guys who spoke Polish, Romanian, and English were incredibly professional.

They beat the anti-government forces so badly they were crying out in despair.

Too--

It's always been the crusades of the crosses, have you ever seen a desert legion conquer Europe?

Large mercenary groups can even overthrow or destroy a country!

The famous Bob Denard orchestrated over 20 coups in 15 countries over 30 years, overthrowing 4 presidents.

South Africa’s “Eecutive Outcomes” (EO) and the UK’s “Sandline” once helped the Sierra Leone government forces recapture the capital and defeat the coalition, but three months later, the government felt that EO was too expensive and dismissed them.

Well—then, the government collapsed.

Damn it, if Bigui X's bodyguards went to Africa, they might even stage a coup.

Africa's military capabilities, I'm not exaggerating—there's really no one there who can fight. You could pick any one of them from Asia and sweep them all away, including Gaddafi.

Don't underestimate the Asian monster room!

Similarly, Syrian rebels have also begun recruiting mercenaries on a large scale, and these mercenaries also have "investors" behind them.

It is said that they are currently in business talks with Blackwater.

This shows who's behind the rebels.

With the arrival of those "big shots," Abdullah's Wild Wolf Mercenary Group, along with the Desert Fox and Crescent Guards, were squeezed into a high ground on the far east side of Dara City.

To put it nicely, this place is a strategic location; to put it bluntly, nobody cares about it.

Two kilometers to the east is a government army supply depot, but the road there has long been bombed and riddled with potholes, so supply trucks would rather take a longer route than go this way.

The main battlefield is to the west, but there is an open area in between. Anyone who rushes from one end to the other will be a sitting duck.

The three mercenary groups, totaling less than a hundred people, were left stranded here, caught in a dilemma.

My salary has also decreased.

Pay is now paid daily, and the daily wage has been reduced from $400 to $150 per person.

In reality, hiring mercenaries, especially unknown ones, is really worthless—cannon fodder can't possibly earn you millions.

Jesus only sold for 30 dollars, how much more do you want to sell it for?

The top of the trench was covered with camouflage netting made of olive branches and canvas, which blended in with the surrounding rocks when viewed from the air, and could not be seen at all unless you got very close.

Deep in the trench, there was a slightly wider corner where Abdullah had a folding table set up. The plastic-topped legs were a bit wobbly, so they were stabilized by placing stones underneath them.

The three people sat around the table.

"A club eight." Abdul pulled out a card.

"Go for it." Aziz tossed out a nine of hearts, ash falling from the corner of his mouth and landing on the table, which he casually brushed aside.

"Pass." Mahad took a sip of tea.

The three of them spent the whole afternoon playing cards in that dilapidated trench, which was incredibly boring.

A few sporadic gunshots could be heard outside, but they were too far away to be heard, sounding more like someone setting off firecrackers.

The canvas curtain was lifted from the outside, and a beam of light suddenly poured in, causing all three people to squint.

A tall figure bent down and squeezed in.

"Commander."

Abdullah looked up. "Damn it, why are you so dark again?"

Xiao Hei gave an awkward smile. "The sun is too strong, Captain. We've spotted someone on the opposite hill."

Abdullah's brow twitched.

"What do you mean?"

"Looking through binoculars to our due east direction, we can see people moving around there, it looks like government troops."

"Did you see it clearly?"

"Look carefully."

Abdullah slammed the cards in his hand onto the table and stood up.

"Let's go take a look."

The three men followed Xiao Hei out of the trench.

The observation post was well-chosen, located behind a rock at the easternmost point of the high ground.

Ahead was a natural rock crevice, just big enough for a person to lie down and stick their binoculars out, like a turtle peeking out.

Abdullah knelt down, took the binoculars, and looked due east.

He adjusted the focus, and his vision gradually became clearer.

Below the ridgeline, there is a small, relatively flat plateau.

Three cars were parked on the platform.

Two gray Toyota pickup trucks, their cargo beds covered with tarpaulins, making it impossible to see what was inside.

There was also an off-road vehicle that was a bit darker in color; judging from its outline, it looked like an older Mercedes-Benz G-Class.

There were people walking around next to the car.

Some people were walking back and forth between the cars, some were squatting on the ground, and some were standing on high places looking around with binoculars.

Abdullah adjusted the focus of the binoculars to the finest setting, turning it one notch at a time, and he saw a man—not young, with some gray hair.

He was carrying something on his shoulder.

Golden!!!

Abdullah's pupils suddenly contracted, and then his whole body began to tremble. His scalp tingled and his breathing became rapid.

This left everyone around them completely bewildered.

"Are you lying on the ground fucking the earth while you're fucking yourself?"

Mahathir's voice came from behind.

Abdullah snapped back to reality, turned his head, looked at Mahad, and then at Aziz and Xiao Hei beside him.

"Lieutenant General."

His voice was a little hoarse. "I saw a lieutenant general with gold stars on his shoulders, surrounded by officers. It was an officer corps!"

The trenches fell silent.

Aziz was the first to react.

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, the butt twisted between his fingers, and sparks flew out and burned his fingers.

Are you sure?

His voice wasn't loud, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, carrying a suppressed excitement that was about to explode.

Since the outbreak of the Syrian civil war, no general-level officer has been killed on the front lines.

If, if they could take down a lieutenant general.

Their names will spread throughout Syria, the Middle East, and military forums around the world.

From now on, no one will ever call us "little punk" again, and no one will ever let us eat dirt next to them again!

For mercenary groups, reputation is very important.

Abdullah handed him the binoculars. "Look for yourself. There are three cars on that plateau below the ridgeline. The one in the middle is a Mercedes-Benz G-Class. The person who got out of the back seat of that car has Venus on his shoulder. You can see it clearly."

Aziz took the binoculars, lay down in front of the crevice, adjusted the focus, and held his breath.

His rugged face, typical of short, stocky Jordanians, was now filled with an almost greedy light.

"Oh shit."

He cursed in Jordanian-accented Arabic, his voice muffled, "Damn it, damn it, damn it."

He repeated it three times, then suddenly slapped his thigh.

"If we kill a lieutenant general, we'll definitely make a fortune!"

"The civil war has been going on for less than a month now, and the various armed groups are fighting tooth and nail for territory, with no one having any notable achievements. The Free Army bastards boasted that they had captured the old town of Delaware, but what happened? The security forces pushed back the very next day. They couldn't even hold the old town for one night, let alone withstand the time it took to shoot down planes."

"The Nusra Front did fight a few battles, but they were all small outposts. They captured a few checkpoints and killed a few soldiers. What's that? Nothing at all."

He took a breath, his eyes shining frighteningly.

"But if a lieutenant general is killed in a bombing, I will never allow anyone to raise their voice at me again!"

Aziz nodded vigorously beside him.

"So what do we do? That plateau looks close, but it'll take at least two hours to walk there, and it's uphill with lots of gravel and bushes. The main force can't move quickly at all. By the time we get there, they'll be long gone."

"Besides, there must be sentries over there. With so many of us moving in that direction, it's impossible to hide it. They'll know we're coming just by looking through their binoculars."

Mahathir nodded as well.

The three of them fell silent.

Abdullah stood beside the crevice, one hand bracing against the cold rock, his mind racing.

1200 m.

A lieutenant general.

He closed his eyes, then suddenly opened them.

"Using drones?"

"At this distance, a mosquito drone is more than capable!"

Abdullah asked the black man, "How many planes do we have left?"

"Ten more."

"Bring it all out," Abdullah said.

"good!"

Xiao Hei turned and ran outside, his back hunched.

Abdullah looked at Mahd and the other man.

"Let them all out, don't aim for precise single-target strikes, just saturate the area, I refuse to believe we can't be blown up."

The position was located at the easternmost end of the high ground, a relatively flat rocky plateau with a wide view, directly facing the opposite mountain.

The drones were placed side by side on the ground, with white KT board bodies and crooked green monsters called Iogo.

:

Abdullah squatted in front of the launch site, holding an old remote control in his hand. It had a white plastic casing, an antenna that was half a meter long, and a loose joystick that felt no different from a child's toy.

Two operators were squatting behind him.

One of them was a Syrian young man in his early twenties named Mahmoud, from the Wild Wolf Mercenary Group. He was usually in charge of operating drones and was quite skilled. He was the one who flew the drone that bombed the communications building last time.

The other was a man from Desert Fox, in his thirties, taciturn, and with steady movements. He was adjusting his remote control, his fingers gently toggling the toggle switch while his eyes were fixed on the parameters on the screen.

Actually, operating these is not that easy, otherwise why would there be dedicated drone operators later on?

Nothing is easy.

Abdullah stood up, turned around, and looked at the drones behind him, ready to go.

He took a deep breath.

"All units take off."

A Mosquito 1 helicopter was launched from the plateau, its propellers whirring as it flew toward the opposite mountain.

"Aircraft number two, take off."

Another one, right after the first one.

"Aircraft number three takes off."

""

=

One after another, the drones, like a flock of startled birds, formed a sparse line in the afternoon sun, pressing towards the opposite mountain.

A buzzing sound echoed through the empty valley, the low-frequency resonance of ten planes flying in the air simultaneously. The sound wasn't loud, but it had a very strong penetrating power.

It's making people feel annoyed and confused.

Hamad stood at the forefront of the launch site, holding a telescope in his left hand, repeatedly chanting, "Long live Allah, Jesus bless you!"

草~

Can faith be a little purer?

The police on the other side will definitely see it.

At a distance of 1,200 meters, you can't see a drone with the naked eye, but you can hear it with your ears.

Beethoven could hear that buzzing, low-frequency resonance.

really.

Through the binoculars, I could see the figures on the platform starting to stir.

Someone pointed to the sky.

Someone jumped out of the car to protect the VIP!

"Target locked, dive!" the person in charge of reporting the positions shouted hurriedly!

Without a display screen, people have to report their positions.

The nose of the Mosquito 1 suddenly dipped down, and the propeller speed increased abruptly, changing from a buzzing sound to a sharp hiss, like a swooping eagle.

The figures on the platform began to scatter and flee.

Someone fired a shot into the sky. The bullet flew past the drone, leaving a fleeting white line on the screen. But the drone was too small and too fast. In that chaotic situation, the probability of being hit by a bullet was not much higher than winning the lottery.

Almost at the same instant, a fireball rose from the location of the pickup truck.

The sound of 60 grams of TNT exploding came from over a thousand meters away, muffled, like someone setting off a large firecracker in the distance.

The drones followed closely behind.

The bomb doesn't equal 1+1=2, it equals more than 2!!!

The platform opposite was blasted and black smoke billowed out.

Abdullah put down his binoculars.

"Hit! Hit!!!!"

He immediately stood up, raised his hands in celebration, his eyes filled with ecstatic joy!

3:00 AM HK time.

The cargo terminal lights illuminated the entire tarmac as bright as day.

The crew finally got their route application approved.

Chen Zheng stood at the bottom of the boarding stairs, finished his last cigarette, stubbed it out on the handrail, and shook his hand as the ember burned his fingertips.

"Walk."

:

He turned and called out to Assam and Li Yang, then put his hands in his jacket pockets and climbed the ladder.

The boarding stairs were made of aluminum alloy, and each step made a hollow sound that echoed across the empty tarmac.

The night wind blew in from the direction of the freight station, carrying the smell of aviation kerosene and rubber, making his collar flip up.

He had just reached the middle when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Buzzing—

As Chen Zheng walked upstairs, he took his phone out of his pocket.

Khalid!

"Aren't you sleeping at this hour?"

Chen Zheng answered the phone, held it to his ear, and glanced in the direction of the airport.

"What's wrong?"

Khalid's voice on the other end of the phone sounded off; he spoke so fast it sounded like he was chanting, and he had an uncontrollable excitement in him, his voice even cracking a little.

"Boss! The mosquitoes have done a great job!"

"Battle record? What battle record?"

"Abdullah! Abdullah and his men killed a lieutenant general with mosquitoes!"

Khalid's voice grew louder, "Boss, it's a lieutenant general! That lieutenant general's name is Assef Shokat!!"

Upon hearing the name, Chen Zheng paused, then frowned and asked directly, "Who is this bastard?"

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