Chapter 11: Chapter 11: The Divine Rifle
What Gao Yang dreaded most was that sniper who managed two shots and two kills. Fortunately, the two vehicles blocked the sniper's line of sight. Although Gao Yang showed his face twice, he didn't hear any gunfire distinct from the AK47s.
Surrounded by more than twenty people, Gao Yang was pinned down by gunfire and couldn't lift his head. Even though he frequently changed positions, every time he showed his head, a barrage of bullets came his way. The enemy didn't dare to charge, but Gao Yang had no chance to fight back.
What puzzled Gao Yang was that, although his adversaries were all black soldiers with similar attire, it was clear that among them four or five shot very accurately. Their timing and distribution of fire were logical. But the rest, about a dozen, just sprayed bullets randomly. Moreover, Gao Yang could tell that once these soldiers began shooting, they wouldn't release the trigger until their magazines were empty.
Gao Yang thought he was doomed. If the enemy kept suppressing him with gunfire and then encircled him, it would all be over. Strangely, no one took the opportunity to advance while he was under fire.
Gao Yang couldn't escape or return fire. At that moment, he heard someone issuing a string of commands. The commander spoke English but mixed in many strange words. Gao Yang couldn't understand everything. He could only roughly guess that the order was for his men to advance.
A few men hesitantly stood up, crouching and began to jog towards Gao Yang. If everyone stayed on the ground, nobody could get the better of each other, but once they stood up, both sides would be able to hit each other.
Gao Yang had been paying close attention to the enemy's movements. Seeing some of them stand up, he immediately opened fire. To improve his accuracy, Gao Yang chose short bursts, firing twice, taking down two men. The rest immediately dropped back to the ground. No matter how the commander shouted, they refused to raise their heads again.
Gao Yang internally labeled them as a disorganized mob. Just then, he heard the enemy commander who had been issuing orders shout, "Safaha, get your men to advance. If you just stand by and watch again, we'll retreat."
"Shut up, you idiot. Move aside and let me show you how my men do things."
From the enemy's shouting, Gao Yang picked up a few key pieces of information: the enemy was indeed from two different groups and relations between them seemed poor. Moreover, Gao Yang recognized the name Safaha, which in Arabic means "executioner." That name gave Gao Yang a foreboding feeling.
Gao had worked in foreign trade for several years and most of his dealings had been with poor countries in Asia, Africa, and Latin America. The main languages spoken in these countries besides English were Portuguese, Spanish, and Arabic. Gao didn't master these languages but had taught himself out of necessity due to frequent use.
Although not fluent in Arabic, Gao could speak it simply and understood some Arab customs. In the complex Arabic name system, those who killed many were often called "Safaha." Gao felt that among his enemies, there might be someone quite formidable.
Gao knew he couldn't wait any longer. Professor Buck and the Chieftain must have reached a safe distance; he had completed his mission of delaying the enemy. It was time to run for his life.
Being encircled meant certain death, but running, although it was a slim chance of survival, at least offered a glimmer of hope.
It was time to escape. Once he moved out of cover, the likelihood of being shot was over ninety percent. For a moment, Gao felt a certain grandeur in this desperate plight as if it were a heroic last stand.
Gao felt his action was tragically heroic, a pity there were no spectators to witness his bravery and despair, he felt a sense of regret.
After reloading a full magazine, without showing his head, Gao fired in several directions. Then, he leaped up, crouched low, and broke into a run.
Gao Yang sprinted desperately in an erratic S-shaped path, praying to every divine being he knew, from Buddha and God to the dozen or so deities worshipped by the Akuri tribe — not one was left out. After all, without divine protection, what he was about to do amounted to nothing but a choice between death and death.
Gao Yang did his best to lead the enemies behind him astray, choosing a direction at a forty-five-degree angle to the Chieftain's route. As gunshots resounded behind him and bullets whizzed by, Gao Yang, heedless of the danger, continued his bent-over sprint. Whether it was the blessing of some deity or just sheer luck, after dashing several hundred meters, Gao Yang was still miraculously unscathed.
When a large tree appeared before him and he could run no further, Gao Yang took cover behind it, catching his breath. After a short pause, he peeked out from behind the tree, fired a long burst, and immediately ducked back into cover.
Panting heavily and with unsteady hands, Gao Yang's burst of bullets hit no one, but his sprint had widened the gap between him and his enemies to over two hundred meters. With the increased distance, the likelihood of being hit naturally decreased.
Although he didn't hit anyone, the previous deadly accuracy of his shots had a deterrent effect, and the salvo still caused the pursuing enemy to momentarily slow down.
After ducking back behind the tree, Gao Yang inspected his body and found that, aside from a slight graze on the outside of his left thigh, he was unharmed; an outcome that filled him with unexpected joy.
Once his breathing had somewhat stabilized, Gao Yang leaned out halfway and, without properly aiming, pulled the trigger, dropping an unlucky soul who had charged to the front.
Quickly aiming and firing was Gao Yang's habit and his greatest skill. The marksmanship he had cultivated with tens of thousands of rounds wasn't for nothing. Although Gao Yang's main practice was with clay pigeons using a double-barreled shotgun, gun sense was universal, regardless of the weapon. Moreover, he had frequently used AK-47 series replica guns during his wargame sessions, so he was completely familiar with the AK-47.
If it had been a longer distance, Gao Yang might have struggled, but at close range, he wouldn't guarantee a shot would always find its mark, but hitting seven or eight out of ten was absolutely doable.
Every shot he took was aimed to kill the foremost charger; this was Gao Yang's last stand. He had to instill fear in his pursuers so that no one dared lead the chase, as this would slow them down as much as possible.
Luckily, the tree Gao Yang relied on was incredibly thick, requiring at least two people to wrap their arms around it. Although bullets sent wood chips flying as they struck the trunk, they couldn't penetrate, providing Gao Yang with enough protection.
Gao Yang crouched down, then peeked out again, lifting his gun to fire in the brief moment he left the cover of the tree, then quickly hid back. Although he didn't see whether his shot had hit, the panicked shouting of the enemies let Gao Yang know he had taken down another one.
After scoring another hit, Gao Yang dared not expose himself again. The enemy hadn't backed off as he hoped they would; although they had slowed down, they were still closing in, and the tree could no longer provide adequate cover, threatening to leave him exposed to enemy fire. Since he couldn't shoot ambidextrously, Gao Yang had only been able to shoot from the right side of the tree, and under the enemy's concentrated fire, the right side of the trunk was nearly stripped of a layer by bullets, forcing him not to peek out from that side again.
Before making a run for it, Gao Yang decided to suppress the enemy's advance one more time. Taking a deep breath, he burst out from the left side of the tree and fired two short bursts.
Shooting from the left fully exposed Gao Yang's body, but luckily, his risky action took the enemy by surprise, and he didn't get shot. Instead, with two short bursts, he killed an enemy, and his daring offensive finally yielded some results — at least half of the enemies hit the ground.
Taking advantage of the suppression provided by these shots, Gao Yang, who had caught his breath, leaped backward in a dash and resumed running in an S-shaped path.