Mercenaries, I Will Be King

"I am a wanderer who forever walks alone towards the distant horizon, and you are my woman amidst the sea of faces, on foreign roads every cold night..."

The rickety old Mercedes-Benz L-series truck cautiously made its way on the outskirts highway of Baghdad, filled with the melodies of Xu Wei's "Hometown" echoing inside the cabin. The driver, Ah Guan, gripped the steering wheel, belting out lyrics in a hoarse voice, his expression as exhilarated as if he had just had a blast in Wenzhou City.

In the passenger seat, Song Heping was fiddling with a Beretta 92F pistol.

This gun had been given to him by his partner Old Demon for self-defense when he left home.

The structure of most pistols isn't very complicated.

He easily removed the magazine, checked the bullets inside to ensure there was no sand or other debris, then pulled back the slide to glance at the barrel and action, unable to resist reminding the driver, "Ah Guan, this is the Red Zone, don't just focus on singing. If something doesn't look right, turn around and run..."

The current date was September 17, 2003, at nine twenty in the morning, five months after the end of the US Army's "Illigo Freedom" operation.

Inside and outside the capital, Baghdad City, chaos reigned; the air filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood, breathed in as the scent of death.

Although the US Army had long declared that the military operations had entirely ended, the sound of gunfire never ceased inside Baghdad City.

No matter how much the coalition spokesman boasted that the situation in Illiguo had been brought completely under control, it still couldn't stop the Resistance Organization from continuing their diverse and frequent attack operations.

Song Heping thought these guys were full of bullshit.

Not to mention the areas around Baghdad, even the Green Zone established by the military within Baghdad City wasn't completely safe; every few days, unidentified mortars and even Katyusha rockets whizzed in.

Two days ago, a Katyusha rocket had landed in front of a large tent in the Green Zone, instantly blasting two unfortunate soldiers, who were idly chatting and holding colas, into pieces.

At that time, Song Heping was nearby; a charred yet intact hand had landed right at his feet, still smoking and emanating a weird yet familiar barbeque smell that made his stomach churn.

Despite the pervasive danger, today's delivery had to go through.

This time, the delivery destination was in Kazimierz, north of Baghdad, and Kazimierz was located in an insecure area outside the city. The delivery would have to pass through a vast Red Zone.

The Resistance Organization in the city was very active, with small arms skirmishes occurring frequently, occasionally accompanied by IEDs and suicide bom**r attacks. Leaving the Green Zone significantly increased the risk, possibly costing lives.

The reason he must deliver was that the profit for this delivery was incredibly high.

The cargo contained six 100KW generators, loaded onto two trucks, three on each.

In a war zone, selling these items yielded higher profits than even selling drugs.

Each generator cost only 40,000 RMB, but a few tribal tycoons in Kazimierz were offering 120,000 per unit. By reselling the six generators, they could make 480,000. Deducting all kinds of miscellaneous expenses, he and Old Demon would each pocket at least 200,000.

200,000 yuan could solve many problems, especially for someone as poor as Song Heping; it was like a fortuitous windfall.

To close this deal, Song Heping and Old Demon had invested all the capital from their shop.

More than two hundred thousand, which was all the money Song Heping and Old Demon had.

If successful, bikes to motorcycles.

If not, even the bikes would be gone.

He had just finished checking the pistol when he realized Ah Guan had stopped singing.

"Why did you stop singing?"

Ah Guan looked a bit tense and glanced in the rearview mirror, swearing, "Today is really bad luck!"

Song Heping asked anxiously, "What happened?"

Ah Guan replied, "There's a convoy from Country M behind us."

Song Heping hurried to look in the rearview mirror and indeed saw the front of a Stryker armored personnel carrier.

Like the typical US Army armored vehicles seen in Baghdad, this Stryker was outfitted with blast-defense grilles stuffed with sandbags, and several thick wooden poles tied to it, giving it a somewhat cyberpunk feel.

In fact, this design was common on the Illiguo battlefield, a kind of DIY armor-piercing protection.

The grille, sandbags, and wood provided some degree of protection when the vehicle was hit, especially against shaped charge explosions from RPG warheads. As long as it wasn't a tandem charge, it could withstand a hit without much issue.

So, this rudimentary method was crucial for the Stryker, which couldn't even resist 12.7mm bullets on its sides and rear; most US Army Strykers were equipped this way.

"Let them overtake us," Song Heping immediately instructed Ah Guan. "Don't stick with these assholes."

After speaking, he quickly grabbed the walkie-talkie to contact the driver in the rear truck, instructing the driver, Tan Pangzi, to also slow down and let the US Army convoy pass first.

Tan Pangzi also cursed, using profanity to mask his panic.

Encountering a coalition military vehicle on the roads of Illiguo was definitely not a good thing, and it was best to keep a distance, staying far away from these unlucky fellows to avoid being collateral damage when the local Resistance Organization attacked the convoy.

Although Illiguo's regular army had already been routed, there was a group of loyal and brainwashed Suicide Squad members who organized themselves to resist everywhere, attacking the coalition's convoy as their usual tactic.

Especially recently, the attacks had become increasingly frequent. It was unclear whether it was because the anti-American armed forces also had KPIs to meet by the end of the year, but starting from September, Song Heping could see every day in the Green Zone coalition soldiers bloodily carried down from rescue helicopters and delivered to the hospital.

Song Heping straightened up and began to observe the surroundings of the truck.

The highway was flanked by not-so-steep hillsides, densely packed with ochre brick and concrete buildings, as if someone had randomly scattered a pile of blocks on the hillside, messy and dense.

About three hundred meters away from the top of the hillside on the left side of the highway stood a towering Scripture Tower, coldly watching the traffic come and go on the highway.

Atop the Scripture Tower were actually a large bell and loudspeakers, which would ring and chant scriptures on the hour, and upon hearing the chanting, followers would immediately find a place to kneel and pray, no matter where they were.

There weren't many pedestrians along the highway, except for a lone woman covered from head to toe in a black robe walking on the right side of the road ahead.

Ah Guan gently pressed on the brake, slowing the truck down.

Whoosh— A Striker convoy sped past them on the side.

Song Heping quickly counted; there were 5 Strikers in this convoy, spaced about 30 meters apart, typical highway echelon formation.

As the fourth vehicle passed by, suddenly, disaster struck.

Boom—

The sudden explosion momentarily stunned Song Heping inside the cabin.

On the road about a hundred meters ahead, the explosion produced a huge mushroom cloud like a monster burrowing from underground, enveloping the leading Striker in a dark red fireball and easily tossing it six or seven meters into the air.

The sixteen-ton Striker was like a paper-mache toy under the tremendous force of the explosion.

"Damn it—"

Ah Guan's eyes bulged out an inch, his curse trembling.

Song Heping pushed this fool, who was only scampering about, down into the seat to avoid the oncoming shock wave.

"Get down!"

No sooner had the two hunched down in their seats than they felt the vehicle violently shake.

Then they heard a second explosion.

Boom—

The glass shattered as the twenty-plus tons of the Mercedes-Benz L truck were impacted.

The second explosion came from the back of the convoy!

Song Heping's entire body broke out in goosebumps.

Damn, this was a classic ambush—hit the front, strike the tail, attack the middle!

Typical roadside ambush tactics!

The middle…

A dreadful word flashed through his mind.

Boom—

Before he could react, the third explosion occurred.

The explosion was not far from the truck.

The massive blast wave flipped the truck over completely, rolling it with the passengers inside to the roadside.

IED!

A terrifying military term crossed Song Heping's mind instantly.

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New book release, old and new readers welcome to add to your collection!