The Fourth Disaster Begins at the Dawn of the Millennium

What else can we do? Just keep pushing forward...

The Chechen armed forces entered this strange city cautiously. They launched attacks in multiple directions. The assault groups in each direction were arranged into two single vertical teams, with their bodies pressed against the walls of the buildings on both sides, like two cunning shadows, sliding silently in the sun.

Compared to the civilians, the Chechen armed forces behaved extremely professionally. The vanguard soldiers walked steadily and had sharp eyes like eagles, staring at every subtle change in front of them, as if they were silently fighting against the uneasiness in the air. The soldiers at the back vigilantly scanned the streets behind them to ensure that no enemy could sneak up on them from behind. The soldiers in the middle of the column focused their attention on the windows of the buildings on both sides, with their weapons ready to deal with possible threats at any time.

The buildings on both sides of the street were mottled and old, and the walls were covered with traces of time. Occasionally, a few pigeons flew up from the roof, flapping their wings, breaking the brief silence. The footsteps of the soldiers were particularly clear on the empty streets. This weird atmosphere made people's scalps numb. Everyone present knew that this atmosphere meant two extreme situations. Either it was a void, the civilians had all fled, and the Chechen armed forces were just fighting wits and courage with the air; or it meant that they were entering the enemy's ambush circle, surrounded by ambushers ready to strike.

When the Chechen armed assault team was about to reach a T-shaped intersection, suddenly, a burst of short bursts of gunfire came from the front, breaking the silence of the day. The Chechen soldier who led the charge fell down, and his blood instantly dyed the ground red. His face was still filled with astonishment. The other soldiers in the team reacted immediately. They quickly sought cover and suppressed the direction of the gunfire - the basement window of a building. The bullets whizzed out, hitting the wall, stirring up pieces of dust.

However, at this moment, unexpected danger came from the sky. More than a dozen grenades were thrown from the windows of the buildings on both sides, drawing arcs and falling to the ground with the breath of death. The Chechen soldiers were shocked and realized that they were trapped in a carefully arranged ambush. Explosions rang out one after another, flames illuminated the streets, and the deafening roar was mixed with the soldiers' exclamations and screams.

More assault rifles were extended from the windows, and bullets rained down like raindrops, sweeping the Chechen soldiers who had no cover to hide from them. At this moment, they had no time to take care of their formation and could only look for cover in a panic.

A young Chechen soldier, with a look of fear and despair on his face, pushed and rubbed a closed door, his fingers almost digging into the crack of the door, but to no avail (because the back of the door was blocked with heavy objects in advance). Another soldier lay on the ground, trying to shield his injured comrade with his body, but the bullet pierced his body mercilessly, and blood spread on the ground. Another soldier smashed the window glass and tried to climb through the window to hide, but the moment he climbed through the window, he triggered a trip mine.........

Some soldiers tried to fight back in desperation. They turned their weapons and fired wildly at the enemies hiding behind the windows. The bullets shattered the glass, making a crisp cracking sound, and then they quickly threw grenades at the windows, as if to add a glimmer of hope to this desperate counterattack. However, the windows were covered with wooden boards, metal mesh and other objects in advance. When the grenades hit the windows, they were bounced back. The ambushers had stronger firepower and occupied the advantage of terrain. Every counterattack was quickly suppressed.

At this time, Makarov, who fired the first shot, was shouting excitedly in the basement: "I knew my tactics were correct! I just used that light machine gun to kill at least three or four enemies! Guard, hand me my assault rifle! I want to lead the team myself! Show you what kind of abilities an excellent assault team leader should have........."

"Mr. Makarov, this... this... this... is absolutely not allowed! Didn't you say that firing a few shots to show a sense of participation would be enough?" Makarov's men resolutely stopped the player from leading the team to charge. The Chechen militants are not a bunch of scum. Didn't they see that the basement window was riddled with holes in the counterattack shooting just now? If the ambush troops hadn't opened fire decisively and had chosen this killing zone at an extremely timely time to unleash their firepower, Makarov might have been shot just now... Now, how could Makarov be allowed to lead the charge? Do you think this is still the Middle Ages? The era when leaders led the charge?

Chapter 185 Storm Gate (Part 2)

The Chechen armed forces' first round of exploratory attacks failed, but they eventually brought the war into the city.

The exterior walls of the building were covered with bullet holes, like wounds cut by sharp blades countless times. There were not many intact windows. The broken glass pieces on the ground flickered faintly, trembling gently with the breeze, making subtle sounds. The mottled bullet marks on the wall and the destroyed bricks and stones intertwined to form a tragic picture. Some houses that had been in disrepair for a long time were also affected by the explosion. Holes were blown out of the walls, revealing the dilapidated interiors and the furniture toppled over.

On the ground, the bloodstains were still clearly visible, like withered flowers. The air was filled with a pungent smell of gunpowder and dust, which was suffocating. The bustling city, which had just been filled with gunfire, suddenly returned to silence. Only the loudspeakers of the radio were still stubbornly outputting sound. The harsh sound echoed in the air, playing a series of words to comfort the people in the city and provoke the invaders:

"In this turbulent moment, we stand at a crossroads of destiny. Chechen militants have gathered outside the city, trying to seize our city, destroy our homes, and destroy our way of life. This is something we must not allow! At this critical moment, we need everyone's strength, everyone's determination, and everyone's spirit of sacrifice.

The City Emergency Committee has been given sweeping powers to ensure we can prevail in this life-or-death struggle. In order to meet the urgent needs of the war effort, we will be requisitioning private industry for supplies. This includes food, medicine, fuel, and everything else we need to survive and fight. We must ensure that every soldier is adequately supplied and every family can survive this storm.

In this time of crisis, I want to issue a stern warning to those who would try to hoard and profit from this crisis. Your greed and selfishness are not only a betrayal of your fellow citizens, but also an aid to the enemy. Your actions will be seen as betrayal and a threat to the safety of all of us. We will ruthlessly punish any traitors who try to profit from this crisis. Your names will be nailed to the pillar of shame, and your bodies will be nailed to the pillar.

In this struggle, we will do whatever it takes! Listen, we will stop the enemy at all costs and ensure that our city is not taken away by the enemy. My team and I are ready to sacrifice in the war! But I can guarantee that before we all die, the Chechen armed forces will pay more than ten times the human lives as a price! The Chechen armed forces will always remember this sad place and remember Makarov!"

The sound echoed in the air, interweaving with the occasional sound of mortar fire in the distance, forming a strange harmony.

The air was filled with smoke, dust, and an indescribable tension, as if even the breeze had stopped, leaving only the shadow of battle hanging over every corner. The city in the distance was blurred in the sunlight, like a silent giant beast, waiting for the coming storm.

The commander of the Chechen armed forces stood on a high ground, holding a telescope close to his eyes. His face was livid, his brows were furrowed, and his eyes revealed an anger and anxiety that was difficult to conceal.

Several assault groups were ambushed while conducting fire reconnaissance deep into the city, and suffered heavy losses, which made him feel extremely frustrated. In order to test the enemy's defense, he sent out three infantry platoons, but under the enemy's ambush, less than one platoon successfully evacuated. He put down the telescope, and his fingers trembled slightly. The soldiers around stood quietly, waiting for his order, but no one dared to disturb him. The commander took a deep breath, raised the telescope again, and continued to observe the city in the distance. His eyes swept over the destroyed buildings, broken walls and debris on the ground, and finally stopped at the entrance of the city.

A truck was slowly driving out, its body covered with bullet holes and mud. The commander suddenly had an ominous premonition, and he held his breath and stared at the truck. The truck stopped at the entrance of the city, and the cargo compartment slowly tilted backwards. As the tilt angle increased, the cargo compartment began to slide backwards under the action of gravity.

The commander's heart suddenly sank. He saw that those who were "unloaded" were the subordinates he had sent out for physical reconnaissance. Now, they had become silent corpses, unloaded on the ground, and then built into the roadblocks. Some of them might not even be corpses, as their bodies were still shaking slightly, and they seemed not to be dead yet.

This scene shocked him greatly, and he felt an indescribable anger and sorrow in his heart. The enemy actually used his own men as building materials to build the roadblocks! Even when they were still alive...

"Makarov! You did it, we will remember your name..."

Whether it was due to the strategic requirement of a quick victory or because they were furious at Makarov's actions, in short, some Chechen militants who had already reached the outskirts of the city were eager to launch another attack on the city and quickly seize the city. At this time, the Chechen armed commander, who had been furious at Makarov's actions, wanted to find a way to calm everyone's anger. Of course, he wanted to catch Makarov immediately and cut off his head to commemorate his fallen comrades.

But he was a commander, not a soldier. The enemy in front of him was clearly well prepared. He didn't even know who the enemy was or what weapons and equipment they had. He only knew the name Makarov. Before launching the next attack, he had to collect more intelligence, and it would be best to wait until his 2500 soldiers, including mortars, recoilless guns, and some vehicles that provided fire support, had all arrived and were ready for battle before taking action.

However, the commander of the Chechen armed forces could barely convince his own people, but he could not convince the "allies", the fanatical religious elements from the Wahhabi sect. When they saw their comrades being blocked into roadblocks, their emotions were completely out of control. It was the kind of anger that their own commander could not stop. If their commander dared to stop his troops from taking revenge immediately, he himself would be killed immediately.

The combat effectiveness of these Wahhabi militants varies. Some have been to Afghanistan and fought against the Soviets, while others are just young and inexperienced and are reckless in fighting! But without exception, they are all very active in fighting, but also very cruel. In the eyes of Wahhabis, believers of Shiites, Sufis and some other sects are apostates who should be sentenced to death and are not considered Muslims at all, so they have no psychological burden when shooting ordinary Dagestani people.

These "allies" insisted on attacking immediately, and the commander of the Chechen armed forces could not stop them.

The afterglow of the setting sun sprinkled on the vast wilderness, dyeing the entire land with a gentle golden color. The breeze blew gently, bringing a hint of coolness, as if adding a bit of tranquility to this silent land. In the center of the wilderness, the Wahhabi militants gathered together, looking solemn and solemn. In front of them stood an elderly imam, chanting prayers, his voice echoing in the wilderness with the wind. The soldiers lowered their heads, closed their eyes, and listened attentively to the imam's prayers. Their faces were full of piety and determination, as if at this moment, all fear and anxiety were thrown behind their minds, leaving only the persistence of faith and the desire for dedication.

Meanwhile, in this small border town, Makarov himself was forbidden to lead the assault, so he had nothing to do. He first went to the broadcasting room, slightly modified the broadcast script handed to him by his subordinates, explained the requirements of the State of Emergency Committee to control the materials, and incidentally, frantically provoked the Chechen armed forces on the opposite side.

Then, Makarov, who was still doing nothing, locked himself in the office for several hours, which made Makarov's subordinates feel relieved. Their boss finally stopped making trouble. This was great! Then, Makarov suddenly walked out of the office, took out a flag that he had just spent several hours designing and painting, and said excitedly: "I remember that the first battle of the day, which was also the best ambush, was fought by a company. Take me to their base, I want to give them the flag!"

"Ah? The flag? The star you drew?"

"To be precise, it's the North Star."

Chapter 186 Storm Gate (Part 3)

Gunshots, explosions, and shouts echoed in the city. The ground shook slightly, and dust flew in the air. Every explosion was like a heavy hammer, hitting people's tense nerves and making people feel terrified. However, underneath this turmoil, the basement was a different scene. The air here was filled with a sense of tranquility and concentration, and the voices of children echoed in the small space. Despite the constant intrusion of noise from the outside world, they still read the words in the book in unison.

The dim lights flickered slightly, and the mottled marks on the walls told of the erosion of time. Despite the simple conditions, this place has become a rare peaceful place and a safe haven for children. Teacher Amina was standing in front of a makeshift podium, her eyes gentle and firm, and she was also trying to pass this firmness to every child sitting in front of her.

Every time an explosion sounded above their heads, the children's bodies would tremble slightly, and the fine dust on the ceiling would fall down like a veil on the desks and the floor. The children's eyes were instantly attracted by the sudden movement, and their faces were full of fear and anxiety. Several young students subconsciously held each other's hands tightly, their eyes full of fear of the unknown. Amina used her slightly hoarse voice to tell the story as vividly and interestingly as possible, trying to make the children focus on herself and temporarily ignore the war outside.

In class, Amina tells stories about courage. She tells stories about heroes who persevered in difficult situations and finally won. She tells stories from fairy tales and myths to younger children. Every time she does this, the children's eyes sparkle with a vision and desire for the future. Amina also tells historical stories to older children:

"More than 25 years ago, there was an inconspicuous four-story building in Stalingrad. A sergeant named Pavlov nervously held his gun and huddled behind the window, watching the German army rushing in like a black torrent. At that time, this 22-year-old young man did not know that he would hold on to this building for 58 days with other soldiers........."

In the basement, there was no bell for the end of get out of class, and the class time was uncertain. Sometimes, with the permission of the soldiers, the teachers could take the children back to the ground to relax for a while, feel the sunshine, breathe fresh air, and sometimes have physical education classes. Sometimes, just after a short while, the soldiers drove them back to the basement like ducks. Not long after, there were fierce gun battles and the sound of shells falling to the ground and exploding.

Standing in front of Makarov were the soldiers of the first company lined up in neat rows. They stood there quietly with solemn expressions and pride written all over their faces.

Just a few minutes ago, the atmosphere was not so serious. Makarov participated in the post-war analysis seminar organized by the 1st Company, listening to everyone's feelings about today's ambush and summarizing the lessons learned. Someone pointed out that it is better to find a table in the room to put the gun, rather than putting the gun on the window, and the barrel should not be extended out of the window, which is not only easy to expose yourself, but also increases the probability of being shot; someone pointed out that sandbags should be added behind the wall of the shooting window to enhance protection; someone else pointed out that in a building with multiple windows that can be used as shooting ports, if you want to cover the windows, all windows should be covered irregularly. Covering a single window will make yourself more obvious, which will lead to earlier exposure.

Makarov commented on them, saying that these experiences were very valuable and that they could be summarized and promoted to other companies. In addition, the first company blocked the doors near the "killing zone" in advance and put landmines on the windows, which was also a good method and worthy of praise. This greatly limited the movement space of the ambushed troops, making it impossible for the enemy to enter the building, turning the ambush into an indoor battle, which is also worth promoting.

Then, Makarov took out a flag he had painted from his backpack, a brand new company flag, and stated the purpose of his trip, which was to present the flag.

"For thousands of years, the constant position of the North Star in the sky has symbolized steadfastness and reliability. Sailors and travelers often rely on the North Star to determine the direction, especially when there are no other navigation tools. It provides guidance for those who are lost. In the darkness, the North Star is often seen as a symbol of hope and faith. Warriors, people's spiritual sustenance on the North Star is also my expectation for you!"

Makarov's voice resounded like a bell. "Today, we stand here firmly and successfully defend the city! Today, we have become the hope of this city, making it impossible for the Chechens to do whatever they want here. This is the case today, and it should be the same in the future!"

After that, Makarov slowly unfolded the flag and solemnly handed it to the captain, whose face was flushed with excitement. Makarov guessed that the captain would come forward and say a few words, but he didn't.

The captain took the flag and held it up in both hands, as if he were holding a precious holy object. He then silently chanted an ancient prayer that Makarov could not understand, but it ended with: "May this flag be our guide and lead us to victory."

Then, the captain's next move surprised Makarov even more (I didn't understand it, but I was shocked). The captain held a corner of the flag, bowed his head, and kissed the flag devoutly. Then the soldiers came forward one by one, their movements were uniform, as if they were kissing something holy. When the last soldier kissed the flag, the captain raised it again and waved it in the wind.

This time, it was finally the company commander's turn to say a few words:

"Soldiers of the Polaris Company, I want to tell you a story. Not far from our ambush, there is a makeshift basement school. I accidentally learned that the teacher there told the children a story today. More than 50 years ago, the young Pavlov Sun Yat-sen and his twenty or so comrades were guarding an ordinary building. When the fascists rushed over like a black torrent, Pavlov and his comrades would never have thought that their story would be passed down more than 50 years later and become the protagonists of a heroic story. My friends, brothers, perhaps one day in the future, a teacher will tell the children our story."

"Hurrah!"

When the soldiers of the other three companies learned that the first company had been awarded a flag and had a special designation of "Polaris Company", they immediately became upset, but they had no choice. The first company had the least casualties and the best record, so they had to accept it. And because of Makarov's strength and adequate treatment, no one complained about Makarov's unfair rewards and punishments. They just whispered, "This company must be lucky, yes, it must be lucky. When we fight the Chechens next time, our company will definitely surpass the first company..."

The officers who retired from the Russian army and came here to seek a job have more insights. They found that now, this unit began to pursue something that is becoming less and less in the Russian army - a sense of honor.

This is a rare thing. As grassroots officers of the Russian army, they know all too well what ordinary soldiers and grassroots officers of the Russian army think about: one is to make money, the other is to get promoted, or to be transferred to an easy and lucrative position. As for learning new tactics and tactics, focusing on individual training, practicing coordinated tactics, etc., these are all irrelevant matters. It can be said that they don't even want to get involved in the most basic "maintenance of combat effectiveness", let alone the rare "sense of honor", which is the personal pursuit of a few soldiers and a few elite troops.

Chapter 187 Who is resisting?

The evening sky was covered by a thick layer of dark clouds, as if a heavy curtain was draped over this war-torn city. The dilapidated buildings cast mottled shadows under the afterglow of the setting sun. The buildings on both sides of the street had long been unrecognizable, and the walls were full of bullet holes. The Chechen armed soldiers moved quickly along this devastated street. Their figures shuttled between the wreckage of old cars and other messy bunkers. Everyone was focused and solemn, ready to deal with any danger that might arise.

The afterglow of the setting sun gradually faded on the horizon, and darkness began to engulf the entire city. Occasionally, a few gunshots were heard in the distance, like the aftermath of the battle echoing in the air. The soldiers lowered their bodies, tried to use every cover, and advanced cautiously, fearing to alert the lurking enemy.

Suddenly, several sharp whistling sounds pierced the night sky, making people shudder. The soldiers' hearts instantly rose to their throats, and they immediately realized that it was the sound of mortar shells. Time seemed to freeze at this moment, and everyone's face was filled with tension and fear.

"Get down!"

The soldiers instinctively looked for cover quickly, trying to avoid the impending explosion. However, fate did not give them enough time. Several mortar shells fell at their feet one after another, accompanied by deafening explosions, and the ground shook violently. Fire splashed, and gravel and metal fragments flew in the air, like a ruthless dance of death. Dust flew, and the entire street was instantly shrouded in chaos. The shock wave of the explosion knocked several soldiers to the ground, and their bodies rolled helplessly in the air, and finally fell heavily to the ground. Blood spread on the ground and mixed with the dust.

Only a few lucky ones were out of the range of the mortar bombing. They struggled to get up from the ground, their ears buzzing from the explosions and their vision blurred by the dust. He shook his head hard, trying to keep himself awake. He looked around for other survivors. Those who stood up staggered to the Chechen militants who had fallen beside them, leaned over, and tried to help them up. They shook him hard, trying to regain consciousness with blood on his face, but his body gradually became cold and the breath of life was fading away bit by bit.

On the other side, a Chechen armed team was gathering on the outer wall of the building, ready to capture the six-story building in front of them. By taking down this "small high-rise" built entirely of steel and concrete, they could immediately observe the location of the mortar team of the damned resistance and avenge their comrades who had just been bombed by the mortar.

But they did not intend to enter through the traditional doors and windows, where there would definitely be enemy ambushes.

"Prepare the explosives!" The commander of the Chechen armed team gave the order, and several soldiers immediately took action, skillfully tied the explosives together, and then carefully installed them on the wall. With a loud bang, a huge gap was blown out of the wall, dust flew, and gravel splashed. The commander of the team rushed out first, holding an assault rifle and rushing in.

The light inside the building was dim, and the pungent smell of gunpowder and the smoke from the explosion had not yet dissipated. Two soldiers from the Polaris Company who were squatting in the room preparing to ambush had been killed by the commander of the Chechen squad and fell in a pool of blood, but inside the building, it was quite quiet. Only occasionally a few intermittent gunshots could be heard from outside, which was chilling.

The Chechen team then went up the stairs and started fighting for the second and third floors. As expected, the soldiers of the Polaris Company prepared an ambush at the stairs, and fierce gunfire echoed in the small space. Even though the Chechen soldiers who led the way were ready for close combat, they were still a step behind and fell to the ground after being shot. Blood spread on the ground, staining it red.

The battle spread from the staircase to the living room. On the wall of the living room hung a faded family photo. The people in the photo were smiling, as if they were enjoying peace and happiness in another world. But now, it has become the front line of the battle. The warmth of the past has long been replaced by gunpowder and death.

The Chechen armed forces occupied the living room, while the soldiers of the Polaris Company held their positions in other rooms, creating a stalemate between the two sides. The atmosphere in the room was so tense that it almost solidified, and everyone held their breath, waiting for the next move. The commander of the Chechen squad almost subconsciously thought of a strategy. He communicated with the soldiers around him using sign language, and several Chechen soldiers nodded to show their understanding.

One of the Chechen militants moved silently to the door of one of the bedrooms. They carefully adjusted their breathing and tried not to make any noise. Then they moved quickly. One soldier kicked the bedroom door open. The door panel made a loud noise during the collision, which echoed throughout the house. At this moment, time seemed to be stretched, and the air was full of tension and anxiety. The soldiers of the Polaris Company in the bedroom were startled by the sudden movement, and their attention was immediately drawn to the kicked-open door.

However, all this is just an elaborate illusion.

At the moment when the attention of the soldiers of the Polaris Company was distracted, another group of Chechen militants had already used the gap created in the previous fierce battle to sneak to the door of another bedroom. As the door of the bedroom next door was kicked open, the attention of the opponent was attracted, and they decisively launched a surprise attack. The weapons in their hands sprayed flames, and bullets poured out like raindrops. The soldiers of the Polaris Company were caught off guard and rushed to fight.

After a few seconds, the gunfire stopped. The commander of the Chechen team breathed a sigh of relief. A gratified smile appeared on his face, but his eyes remained alert. The result of the battle for the second floor has been announced. The Chechen armed team that has occupied two floors will take a short break here, allowing another team to launch an attack on the third and fourth floors.

The Polaris Company infantry platoon, which was arranging defenses on the top floor, was ready to live and die with this building. The platoon leader told the soldiers: "As long as we hold on here, the Chechen armed forces' attacks in this direction will always be monitored by us, and they will not be able to penetrate the city on a large scale, let alone directly attack our supporting firepower units. For every hundred soldiers they send to this building, a dozen or twenty will be annihilated on the way, eliminated by our mortar teams and snipers. Therefore, our defense here is very valuable! Our sacrifice is also very valuable!"

Meanwhile, in the conference room, Makarov, based on his years of experience in gaming, rejected his subordinates' attempt to change their orders overnight, and retorted:

"Since the order to prepare the armored units to launch a counterattack from outside the city has already been issued, the order should not be changed suddenly. Why let them enter the city? To be attacked by RPGs and Stingers? Those armored units have not received any urban combat training. Letting them enter the city will only cause trouble. What, you said there is a lack of reserve troops in the city? Why did you equip me with an infantry platoon as guards? Let them all serve as reserves! Oh, I can also be a member of the reserve team, and I can personally lead this reserve team to launch a counterattack."

The subordinate was speechless for a moment, thinking: "Do you really want to be the assault team leader?".........But Makarov's rebuttal is not unreasonable. Putting armored units into urban street fighting can only delay the battle for a while, allowing the troops to hold out longer, but if the armored units launch a pincer attack at the right time, it is possible to directly defeat the Chechen armed forces in front of them.

However, Makarov was not looking forward to delaying the war. When his staff officers always habitually put the starting point of their plans on "delaying the war until the Russian army begins to intervene", Makarov always asked them to consider how to use their existing forces to repel or even annihilate the 2500 Chechen armed forces in front of them. Makarov said: "You can't pin your hopes on troops whose end is unknown. You should think that this is a war between Makarov and the Chechen armed forces, not a war between the Russian Federation and the Chechen armed forces."

In Moscow.

Seeing that the situation in Dagestan was getting worse, Yeltsin had to hold an emergency meeting to discuss countermeasures. However, when faced with such a real problem, Yeltsin's "liberal" politicians were all perfunctory and no one wanted to take responsibility. In view of the fact that they lost both the wife and the army in the first Chechen war, everyone advocated continuing to use peace talks to temporarily appease the Chechen militants.

However, one person among those present firmly disagreed with the peace talks. "If I don't take action today, the loss tomorrow will be greater. My childhood experience taught me that if a fight is inevitable, I'd better take action first!"

Everyone turned their eyes to the man who spoke confidently and even a little conceited, Putin, Chairman of the Russian Federation Security Council. Soon someone started to refute this unprepossessing "young man" in the political arena. What they meant was that the experience of the first Chechen war showed that the Russian army could not easily and smoothly deal with the Chechen militants. They did not have the ability to do so, you know...

But Putin also has his own reasons for rebuttal.

"If you have been paying attention to the TV reports and newspaper news about Dagestan-Chechen recently, you should know a man named Makarov. When the Russian Federation's army stood aside, Makarov led a resistance force composed of mercenaries and local militias to block the Chechen attack. If you read more news reports about him, you will know that the Chechen armed forces are not so difficult to defeat..."

Chapter 188 Call the Air Force to Bomb This Place into the Sky

It was also evening, the sky above was covered by a thick layer of clouds, the grass on the hills swayed slightly in the wind, as if whispering, and the mountains in the distance were rolling like sleeping beasts.

On the top of this silent hill, two scouts in camouflage uniforms were crawling on the ground, their figures almost blending into the surrounding environment. The binoculars in their hands were their eyes, through the lenses, they closely watched the Chechen armed camp surrounded by hills and woods in the distance. Everything in the camp was in sight: tents, vehicles, patrolling armed personnel, and smoke rising from cooking from time to time.

While observing through a telescope, Alexander dictated the important contents that needed to be marked on the map, while Artyom marked the sentry posts, firing points and ammunition storage points on the map, and drew lines on it with pencil to indicate the routes of the Chechen armed forces' vehicles.

"This is their main entrance." Alexander pointed to the map and asked Artyom to circle an area here with a pencil. Then he continued to analyze. "There are sentries, roadblocks and machine gunners at the entrance, but I noticed that they may also have snipers on guard at nearby high ground. I just haven't figured out the pattern of their deployment of these sentries. Inside... I estimate that there are about two infantry platoons guarding these supplies."

"Is there any chance I can sneak in disguised as a Chechen? My Chechen dialect is quite authentic," said Artyom.

"It should be difficult. Remember the last time we rescued prisoners of war? The enemy immediately raised their guns within a few seconds of answering the command. I guess they change the command frequently. The command we got last time is probably useless now..."

"We have to think of a smarter way to destroy these supplies..." "Well, there is still time, let's observe for a while." Alexander said, he picked up the telescope again and continued to observe the camp, trying to find more flaws and opportunities. Artyom did not slack off either, he lay on the ground, staring at the distance with a sharp gaze (at this time, the player in front of the screen was marking).

Time passed by bit by bit, the sound of the wind on the hill gradually became more rapid, the evening light gradually faded, night began to fall, and the temperature on the hill also dropped. Alexander closed the map and put away the telescope, with a solemn expression on his face.

Yesterday, Sergeant Artyom conveyed Mr. Makarov's words to Alexander. First, Mr. Makarov awarded this reconnaissance unit a special designation, the Nightingale Squad. After Alexander and his men return, Mr. Makarov will personally present the flag to the Nightingale Squad (Makarov: "Flag? It's being drawn, it's being drawn"); second, he asked the Nightingale Squad to find a way to take down the Chechen armed forces' supply point, forcing the Chechen armed forces to suspend their attack, so as to buy more time for the city to readjust its defenses and for the armored units to move to designated locations.

It was not easy to complete the task of raiding the supply point. The Nightingale Squad was only a scout squad. Even if some Russian prisoners of war joined them, their total strength did not exceed half a platoon, and they were all lightly armed, leaving almost no room for trial and error. With such a small number of troops, if the Chechen armed forces had a few machine guns or sniper rifles in the right position, the entire Nightingale Squad would be killed and then eaten by the surrounding Chechen armed forces.

Just as Alexander was tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep, he suddenly saw Artyom approaching. Alexander asked in confusion:

"What are you here for?"

In the night sky, a helicopter was hovering over the city that Makarov and his men were defending. The roar of the propellers broke the tranquility of the night. On the ground, several uniformed ground personnel were busy, waving glowing batons in their hands. Under the guidance of the lights and ground personnel, the skilled and courageous pilots slowly lowered the helicopter. The wind stirred up by the propellers rolled up the dust on the ground, forming a small vortex in the air. The entire landing process was steady and slow, as if an experienced dancer was spinning lightly on the stage.

Finally, the helicopter's landing gear touched the ground lightly, making a slight vibration. The roar of the propeller gradually weakened, and the helicopter landed steadily on the open ground. The ground personnel quickly stepped forward to confirm the status of the helicopter and prepare for the next action.

"This time, Moscow's reaction was quite quick, probably because that man began to step onto the political stage.........."

At the Moscow meeting, Putin's statement was the most satisfactory to Yeltsin. It was because those "liberal" politicians and the oligarchs behind them were too weak and incompetent in dealing with the crisis, and Putin had not only shown a strong ability to get things done, but also fully supported Yeltsin, which made Yeltsin think that he was a close friend who could get things done, so of course he had to entrust him with important tasks.

Now, Yeltsin decided to pass the hot potato of handling the "Chechen invasion" to Putin. If he did well, Putin could gain a lot of prestige, and Yeltsin was willing to go with the flow and let this capable confidant go further. If he did not do well, then......

Therefore, Yeltsin quickly dismissed Stepashin, who had just taken office for less than three months, and promoted Putin, who had just become the chairman of the Federal Security Council, to the position of first deputy prime minister and acting prime minister. Of course, for Putin, this was not only an opportunity, but also a huge pressure. Putin was not overwhelmed by such pressure, but decisively asked Yeltsin to grant him full authority to command and mobilize military forces.

"Look what support Putin has sent us..."

When Makarov and others went to meet them, the door of the helicopter was quickly opened, and several officers filed out. The leading officer stepped forward, saluted vigorously, then stretched out his hand to shake hands with Makarov, and said: "Hello, I am Major Ivanov. We are here to support you and fight side by side with you under the order of our superiors. Moscow attaches great importance to you. We have brought communication equipment that can communicate with the military district headquarters and air force units in the rear. Tomorrow morning, the first batch of airdropped supplies will arrive. Fortunately, you still control most of the urban area, and the leaders of the air force don't have to worry about the airdropped supplies falling into the hands of the enemy."

Makarov's hand also firmly grasped the officer's hand, conveying silent trust through this simple action, "Thank you for your hard work, thank you for your hard work, please follow us and return to our combat meeting room first."

When the other party said "thank you for your hard work" at the beginning, Major Ivanov thought that the other party would arrange for him and his team to rest. He was about to refuse, but unexpectedly, Makarov invited him to the combat meeting room in the next sentence. At the same time, in the WeChat chat, the player with the ID Makarov was comparing the coordinates on the same map with the player with the ID Artyom.

When Major Ivanov and others were invited to the combat meeting room, Makarov walked to the map hanging on the wall and drew a small circle on the map with a pencil. Ivanov noticed that the circled area was not near the city. Judging from the contour lines and other map information, it was a place surrounded by valleys and woods.

"Mr. Makarov, is this..."

"My soldiers told me that there are a lot of Chechen armed forces' munitions stored here. If you can contact the air force in the rear, please do me a favor and contact the air force to blow up everything in this small circle!"

Chapter 189: Rising Flames