Chapter 1323 - Before The Counterattack
I Have a Mansion in the Post-apocalyptic World
Chapter 1323: Before The Counterattack
In the woods of the Andes, the leaves rustled. Two Asian soldiers in camouflage laid on the ground, their faces painted with black ink. Without being close, it was nearly impossible to see the two faces hidden in the shadow of the bushes.
The forest was terribly quiet, and the two laid motionlessly on their stomachs, as if they were waiting for something.
Not far away, there was a crisp sound.
The two faces under the bushes also disappeared silently…
Two NATO soldiers, one after another, carefully pushed aside the bushes and avoided the dead branches on the ground. With their backs hunched, they followed the shadow of the tropical vegetation as they headed towards the mountain… and then they bumped into the gunpoint of the Moro guerrillas.
Gunshots passed through the dense rainforest, and bullets burst out from the shadows and rained on the two. Before they even had time to react, the two NATO soldiers fell to the ground with a terrifying howl.
Two Moro soldiers got out from behind the banana leaf and quickly ran to the two NATO soldiers who were killed.
“Where are their tags? Give me one.”
“Take it.”
“Hwang Sican? What is this name…”
Muthari couldn’t understand the Korean written on the front, but fortunately, there was English phonetic notation.
“Probably a Korean. Regardless, you can exchange it for military merit anyway.” His comrade stuffed another soldier tag into his bag, and then quickly searched the Korean to confirm that there was nothing left, then he spat on the ground and stood up.
“The target was found, two NATO soldiers, both are down.”
After Muthari reported to the headquarters with his voice suppressed, he glanced at the corpse on the ground, shocked by the scene.
Not only red liquid flowed out, but also white stuff oozed out, yellow liquid as well.
Good lord, one probably hit the sack.
No wonder he howled so miserably before he died…
…
That afternoon, after the two received an order, they returned to their base of operations on Highland 421.
They came to a tent in the corner of the barracks. Muthari walked in with his comrade and handed the tag to the Celestial Trade officer.
The officer took the tag and examined it for a moment, then he opened a notebook, and searched for Muthari’s number and name. He took a pen and added a line to a word. When Muthari saw this, a bright smile appeared on his face as he revealed his white teeth.
Although he didn’t recognize what the word meant, he understood the meaning of the lines.
The line represented one hundred Xin New Dollars, which was almost equivalent to their monthly salary. At the end of the month, the money would be directly deposited to their personal account. Even if they were killed in battle, their families would receive the money.
It was a reward for the guerrilla soldiers. At this time, it was either NATO scouts or elite soldiers on special operations who were active in the rainforest. They were all high-value targets.
When they first heard the news, the Moro soldiers almost started to sing in celebration. It even got to a point where after someone downed a soldier, they took the head instead if they couldn’t find the tag.
This kind of disgusting and inhumane behavior was quickly banned by Celestial Trade. Photos were used instead if tags were missing. It was not until this ban was introduced that the remains of the poor NATO soldiers were spared.
But soon, Muthari raised his eyebrows and cried at the notebook.
“Hey, why does he have one more than me, it’s not fair!”
It was the same tag, but his comrade received one more stroke than he did, which immediately caused his dissatisfaction.
“Because his tag belongs to the 13th Marine Corps Infantry Brigade,” the officer said expressionlessly and pointed to a sheet on the table. “The rules are here.”
“This…this also works?” Muthari was dumbfounded.
Even canine earned them a stroke…
“Okay, okay, man, I’ll buy you a drink.” The comrade next to him was also a little embarrassed, and patted him on his back. Before the officer started to show annoyance, he dragged Muthari outside.
It was not a good idea to argue with Celestial Trade officers.
Although these people were not directly on the battlefield, even their commanders were polite to them.
Back in the tent, just as Muthari sat down on his bed, their squad leader walked in and dropped a cloth bag on the ground.
The soldier at the door stood up and curiously flipped through the cloth bag. He looked at the steel wire ball inside and asked with a confused expression.
“What is this?”
“There is a large-scale military operation tonight,” the squad leader glanced around the tent, confirmed that everyone was there, then pointed to the steel wire meshes on the ground, and said, “I don’t know exactly what it is. The headquarters asked us to stuff all our electronics into this stuff before five o’clock.”
Worried that these boneheaded soldiers would not take this order seriously, the squad leader paused for a moment and emphasized it again with a serious expression.
“Remember, all electronic products, this is an order.”
…
A week had passed since Moro soldiers landed in Colombia.
After the setback in the attack on Pamplona, NATO immediately reflected on its strategic deployment. It placed intelligence warfare and counter-guerrilla warfare at the core of its strategy, and sent special forces to search for FARC firepower points and tunnels in the jungle, especially high-value targets such as mortars and anti-aircraft artilleries that provided suppression.
In terms of firepower, NATO still had the clear upper hand.
But the Andes were so big, the rebel guerrillas were also cunning. The two sides turned from the initial muscle-to-muscle collision to a stealth warfare. Danger was hidden in every bush, and the smell of blood permeated every inch of the South American jungle.
Not just guerrillas, poisonous insects, pythons, crocodiles… these were nothing to the people who have lived here for a long time, but they were quite troublesome for NATO soldiers. The environment here was worse than the desert, and mosquitoes the size of thumbs drove people crazy.
In a sense, Timochenko’s words were indeed fulfilled.
The Andes and the rain forest had not only become the nightmare of the UA, but also the nightmare of all NATO.
However, the newcomers who had just arrived here were often more optimistic. For example, Koreans who responded to the call not long ago showed confidence beyond their ability in front of the majestic mountains of Colombia. They did not take FARC and Moro seriously at all.
“Our soldiers are all experts in counter-guerrilla warfare.” A South Korean officer narrowed his eyes and laughed, “You can rest assured that soon their position will be clear to us.”
For a long time, in order to match the so-called “guerrilla powerhouse” in the north, the South Korean Army always regarded counter-guerrilla warfare as the focus of military training and attached great importance to special operations forces. As a result, almost every army in Korea contained a special operations battalion.
In addition, Koreans often established a special operations division to perform special operations tasks such as counter-terrorism operations, protection of dignitaries, punishment and retaliation.
He had the confidence for this very reason.
But he overlooked one point.
Moro soldiers did not receive any serious training, but all of them crawled out from piles of corpses. Now they were equipped by Future Military, while their weapons were not the most advanced, it was not far behind the NATO soldiers’ gears.
“I hope so.” The old man with a hooked nose replied nonchalantly.
Obviously, as a Marine Corps Colonel, he was not convinced by the newcomer.
A war is not a TV series. Disregard the Descendent of the Sun, even if you are a descendant of the Milky Way, you’ll only have one life on the battlefield. Especially in the tropical zone with visibility of less than ten meters, it is a severe test for the soldiers’ detection and counter-detection capabilities.
Whoever is discovered first will die. No one will have mercy because everyone wants to live.
The old man gazed into the sunset in the distance and a frown appeared on his face as his eyes narrowed.
It was almost dark.
For some reason, he had a hunch.
Tonight will be very long.
He rolled up his sleeves and looked at the electronic watch on his wrist. However, he was shocked.
The number on the electronic watch was frozen at five o’clock in the afternoon.
He pressed it a few times but there was still no response. Then he muttered to himself with his frown growing more apparent.
“Is it broken?”