Courtyard House: From Deputy Division Commander to Civilian, Progressing All the Way

Although only three years have passed, the voice has lost all its youthful immaturity. It is the voice of a battle-hardened veteran, forged in extremely cold and dangerous environments, having undergone countless life-or-death trials.

Hoarse, cold, without a trace of panic.

The Blue Army commander's anxious voice came through the radio: "Lone Wolf, the flank is a quicksand area codenamed 'Cliff'! There's absolutely no road there! Once the tanks get stuck, it's all over! I disagree with this plan, withdraw to the safe line immediately!"

"Command post, this isn't just an exercise. If this were real combat, if we back down, the defense line will collapse." Lin Weidong's voice was uncompromising. "Our tracks have been widened and modified by the Ministry of Heavy Industry, and the engines have been replaced with the latest turbocharged turbines. As long as we're fast enough, we can break through."

"Lone Wolf! That's an order! You're not allowed to..."

Click.

Communication was unilaterally cut off.

Inside the observation post, several staff officers looked at each other, all of them gasping in shock.

Openly disobeying orders and cutting off communications with the command post during a division-wide exercise is a serious violation of discipline.

Kong Jie couldn't help but slam his hand on the table, his eyes blazing with fanatical admiration: "That little bastard! Who taught him this reckless, crazy spirit?!"

Li Yunlong panicked and ripped off his earpiece: "Quicksand zone? Lao Kong, that's a tank graveyard! Has Wei Dong gone mad? Even if the engine's been modified, it's still a thirty-ton iron lump! Once it gets stuck, the entire crew won't be able to escape!"

Lin Yang stood in front of the glass window with his hands behind his back.

His gaze pierced through the swirling sandstorm, fixed intently on the yellow sand sea to the left of Death Valley, a place considered a no-man's-land.

"Old Li, if war is just about following a set pattern, then it's not war. I believe in him." Lin Yang's voice was incredibly firm.

At this very moment, on the left side of Death Valley, at the edge of the quicksand zone.

Three specially painted Type 59 tanks are hidden behind a huge rock formation.

Inside the lead tank, number 01.

Lin Weidong sat in the train conductor's seat, his eyes sharp as knives.

In these three years, he not only grew taller, but his whole being became like a piece of refined steel forged a thousand times in a furnace. On the back of his left hand, there is a horrifying scar the size of a coin, a medal left from when he was in the wilderness at minus thirty degrees Celsius, when he was torn off his own flesh while trying to fix a broken track with his bare hands.

Inside the cockpit, Lin Jianguo gripped the control stick tightly with both hands. He had also shed his former naivety, replaced by an absolute composure and focus.

"Jianguo, are you afraid?" Lin Weidong asked casually through the car's intercom.

"What's there to be afraid of? At worst, I'll just be buried in the sand. As long as you dare to point the way, I'll floor the gas pedal!" Lin Jianguo grinned, revealing his gleaming white teeth.

For the past three years, the two brothers have relied on each other for survival in the Gobi Desert, narrowly escaping death countless times in the wind and snow. The tacit understanding between them has transcended blood ties, reaching a profound harmony of souls.

"Okay." Lin Weidong took a deep breath, his eyes instantly turning as cold as iron.

He pushed open the top hatch and leaned half his body out of the tank. The wind whipped up sand and gravel, which lashed his face like sandpaper.

He pulled out a homemade anemometer, glanced at it, and then roared, "Attention everyone! Shift to high gear! RPMs up! Don't slow down, don't steer! Follow my tracks and go!"

Rumble—!

Thick black exhaust fumes simultaneously spewed from the rear of the three Type 59 tanks. The new supercharged turbo engines roared like wild beasts.

Like a wild horse, the steel behemoth suddenly burst out from behind the rocks and plunged headlong into the terrifying quicksand area!

Inside the observation post, Li Yunlong's hand holding the binoculars was trembling slightly.

"They've broken in! These lunatics have really broken in!"

Through the telescope, the three tanks lurched downwards the instant they entered the quicksand area.

The sand was like a greedy swamp, frantically swallowing the tank's road wheels.

But at this critical moment...

Lin Jianguo displayed driving skills that could only be described as miraculous. Instead of blindly flooring the accelerator, he relied on his precise perception of every vibration of the engine to control the speed at the critical point where the tracks could just dissipate the sand without slipping excessively.

The tank's widened tracks dug wildly across the sand, whipping up sandstorms.

The engine roared in pain, and the temperature gauge needle soared at a visible speed.

"Jianguo! Hold on! Maintain this speed!" Lin Weidong shouted into the communicator.

Time seemed to stretch out infinitely at that moment.

Every second was a frantic test of life and death.

1,000 meters... 500 meters... 300 meters...

at last!

With a deafening roar of the engine, Tank No. 01, like a raging dragon breaking free from the mud, charged up the hard Gobi Desert opposite the quicksand area!

Immediately afterwards, the other two tanks followed in the tracks of No. 01 and bravely rushed out of the death zone!

A thunderous gasp erupted from the observation area.

Several staff officers were so excited that their faces turned red, and even Kong Jie couldn't help but clench his fist and wave it hard.

"A miracle! This is a fucking miracle in the history of armored forces!" Li Yunlong was so excited he was incoherent, grabbing Lin Yang's arm. "Yangzi, did you see that?! Your son drove a tank like an airplane!"

Lin Yang's lips finally curled into an undisguised smile of pride.

But he knew the real show was just beginning.

Breaking out of the quicksand zone meant that Lin Weidong's elite platoon had, like a poisoned dagger, plunged directly into the softest part of the Red Army's position, its rear!

"Attention, platoon! Armor-piercing rounds loaded! Target: Red Force command post communications antenna, 1200 meters away. No need to aim, provide fire coverage! Fire and withdraw, no protracted engagements!"

Lin Weidong's voice was like the Grim Reaper delivering a verdict.

The Red Team's command post never expected that three steel monsters would suddenly appear from the direction of the quicksand area, which they considered absolutely safe.

By the time they heard the roar of the tank engine, it was too late.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three cannons fired simultaneously.

The dye bombs used in the exercise accurately hit the core area of ​​the Red Team's command post. Thick red smoke, signifying the paralysis of the command system, billowed into the sky above Death Valley.

The Red Team has been completely wiped out!

The decapitation operation was a complete success!

The entire red-blue confrontation exercise, thanks to Lin Weidong's brilliant and ingenious maneuvering, ended prematurely in a way that no one expected.

The audience erupted in applause.

Kong Jie let out a long sigh of relief and turned to look at Lin Yang.

"Yangzi, I'm impressed. When you handed these two kids over to me, you said to train them to the bone as long as they didn't die. Now, they've become the sharpest blade in my independent armored division. With them here, even if the Russian armored army really charges in, I'm confident I can knock a few of their teeth out!"

Lin Yang straightened the collar of his training uniform and looked intently at the troops assembling in the distance.

"Let's go. Let's go see these lads."