“We’ve finally made contact with the relief force…” Hu Qiang had taken a risky move to get in touch with General Zuma’s troops via satellite. After speaking hurriedly into the mic for a few moments, he hung up and turned to Xu Ze with a grin. “Major—they’re already on their way. They should be about ten kilometers ahead of us.”
“You sure?” Xu Ze raised an eyebrow, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. If it really was only about ten kilometers, they’d meet up in maybe half an hour at most. Once they linked up, they’d essentially be safe.
Hu Qiang nodded excitedly, his face glowing with relief. “Yes, Major—confirmed. The relief force is already on a forced march. We should join up with them very soon.”
“Good. Then we need to pick up the pace!” Xu Ze gave a firm nod, then raised his voice to encourage the group. “Everyone, push a little harder—we’re almost there!”
The news spread quickly. The men clearing the path ahead and the ones carrying the stretcher perked up instantly, their steps quickening as they pressed forward.
The whole group moved along at a brisk, cheerful pace—but Xu Ze hadn’t let his guard down for a second. If there really was a mole, they’d likely make their move within the next half hour. Only after that final threat was neutralized would General Zuma be truly safe.
Xu Ze walked cautiously for a while, until suddenly Xiao Dao’s urgent voice rang in his ear: “Xu—watch out!”
His heart tightened at the warning, but before he could even react, a sharp whoosh tore through the sky above. A fighter jet screamed overhead, and a powerful blast of wind rattled the treetops, sending leaves rustling wildly.
“Xu—two F-16s. They’ve already spotted your position,” Xiao Dao warned again.
“America…” Xu Ze’s eyes narrowed as he watched the jets tear across the sky. He hadn’t expected the U.S. to be so blatant—dispatching fighter jets to assassinate General Zuma.
“Quick—you lot, carry the General into those woods over there and stay hidden! We’ll draw their attention!” Bai Qi raised his rifle and gestured to the nine Wolf Fang soldiers. “Li Bao, Zhang Ziqiang—you two protect General Zuma. The rest of you, follow me!”
“Yes, sir!” The two assigned soldiers exchanged a somber glance with their comrades, then hurried off toward General Zuma’s position.
“Major…” Bai Qi looked at Xu Ze, who had silently taken off his Barrett with a grim expression, and was about to speak—
“Go on.” Xu Ze met Bai Qi’s eyes, then glanced at the seven other soldiers and gave a short nod. Without another word, he dropped his backpack and assault rifle, grabbed the Barrett, and turned to sprint off in the opposite direction.
Bai Qi watched Xu Ze’s retreating back, clenched his jaw, and said nothing. Then he waved his hand and led the seven soldiers away in the other direction.
Both men understood exactly what was about to happen. Bai Qi and his seven soldiers would draw the fighters’ attention—they’d be the primary targets.
And Xu Ze would use the Barrett to engage the jets. Once he opened fire, he’d likely become a target himself.
For ground troops, being targeted by fighter jets without any shoulder-launched missiles like Stingers or SAMs was about as dangerous as it gets.
But Bai Qi couldn’t stop Xu Ze either. Against F-16s, they had no effective weapons. Their rocket launchers might work against helicopters, but hitting an F-16—even at low altitude—was practically impossible.
Xu Ze’s Barrett M107 anti-materiel rifle, though, was their only real chance. Bai Qi had seen Xu Ze’s marksmanship up close and had tremendous respect for it. If anyone else claimed they could take down a fighter jet with a Barrett, Bai Qi wouldn’t believe it. But with Xu Ze—he thought it just might be possible.
If Xu Ze could land an armor-piercing round on the jet’s external fuel tank or a missile during a low-altitude pass, taking down an F-16 with an anti-materiel rifle wasn’t out of the question.
“I should’ve brought a QW-2 launcher… I’d blow these bastards to hell…” Bai Qi cursed under his breath as he ran, then called out to the two soldiers ahead: “Get the rocket launchers ready—let’s give ’em hell!”
Xu Ze sprinted forward, putting as much distance as possible between himself and General Zuma’s group—and Bai Qi’s team.
After about a hundred meters, he found a large tree, climbed up swiftly, and braced the Barrett against the trunk.
“Scan complete. Both F-16s are equipped with one M61A1 6-barrel cannon each, with 515 rounds—effective range about 1,000 meters. They’re also carrying two Sidewinder air-to-air missiles, two Maverick air-to-ground missiles, two rocket pods with sixteen rockets total… and one external fuel tank,” Xiao Dao reported from the virtual space, listing off the F-16s’ armaments.
“Tch… the nearest U.S. base is over a thousand kilometers from here. They must’ve scrambled these jets well in advance—came prepared. Most of the ordnance is ground-attack gear too…” Xu Ze cursed inwardly. For the sake of profit, they’d really stop at nothing.
“Two jets, strike and run—no one can pin anything on them. But I’m not about to let them have it that easy.” Xu Ze gritted his teeth. He wasn’t without a chance. If they wanted to use their cannons and rockets, they’d have to slow down and fly low—and with that external fuel tank still attached, they made perfect targets.
“Full detection system online. Xiao Dao—lock onto both fighters. Don’t worry about energy consumption,” Xu Ze said through clenched teeth.
“Don’t worry about energy? How can I not worry?! I have to run full air-to-air detection and locking, and keep enough shield energy for you so you don’t die—how am I supposed to not worry?!” Xiao Dao yelled in the virtual space, stomping and clutching his chest like he was being gutted.
A few days ago, Xu Ze had drained the energy completely, leaving Xiao Dao unconscious for hours. And energy had been depleting steadily ever since. Even with Xu Ze recharging at full capacity, they were still below seventy-five percent. If this fight dragged on—and if Xu Ze actually took a missile hit—the shield drain would probably knock Xiao Dao out for another half a day at least.
The unconsciousness was one thing. But without enough energy, in a place where bullets were flying everywhere, Xiao Dao was genuinely worried about whether Xu Ze could survive.
Still, there was no choice now. Unless Xu Ze agreed to run away alone, they had to take down both F-16s.
Cursing under his breath, Xiao Dao began scanning and locking onto the jets while muttering: “When I hit Level 4 and get basic energy interference capability, I’ll make you explode on the spot…”
Boom… boom… Two rockets fired from the air struck the area where Xu Ze and the others had been standing moments before. The F-16s had started their attack.
“Ten o’clock position…” At Xiao Dao’s prompt, Xu Ze took a slow breath, raised his rifle, and turned toward ten o’clock. Through his visor, he was locked and ready.
Whoosh… whoosh… Two rocket launches echoed from the dense forest nearby. Xu Ze knew Bai Qi and his men had begun their assault on the F-16s—risking their lives to draw the enemy’s fire.
Xu Ze squinted. The leaves in his vision gradually faded, and he could clearly see two trails of white smoke streaking toward one of the low-flying F-16s.
But the F-16 banked lightly, dodging both rockets with ease, then returned fire from its underbelly—whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—four missiles streaking downward.
Xu Ze didn’t blink. His eyes were locked on the jet screaming toward him. He couldn’t spare a thought for what those four rockets might do to Bai Qi and his men. All he knew was this: if he didn’t take down these two F-16s fast, none of them were getting out alive.
“Three seconds until optimal firing angle… two… one…” Xiao Dao counted down. Xu Ze half-closed his eyes, gripped the rifle tight, stared at the underbelly of the approaching jet, and squeezed the trigger.
BANG!
As the jet erupted in a fireball and disintegrated midair, Xu Ze slid down the tree in one smooth motion and dashed off in another direction.
He’d only made it about ten meters when he heard a sharp whoosh overhead. A second later, a wave of heat blasted from behind, slamming him face-first into the ground.
“Damn—good thing I ran. They actually used a missile on me…” Xu Ze ignored the searing pain in his back, scrambled up, and kept running.
But a few steps later, the rat-tat-tat of autocannon fire split the air. The second fighter, having pinpointed his position thanks to that $180,000 Maverick missile, dove low and opened up with full cannon fire right at him.
Hearing trees being shredded behind him, Xu Ze clenched his teeth, pumped his legs, and surged forward. Then Xiao Dao’s voice rang out: “Three… two… one… roll!”
As the count hit zero, Xu Ze pushed off hard, launching himself sideways into a roll.
Perfect timing. He tumbled into the tall grass on the left just as a stream of cannon rounds ripped through the spot he’d been standing a second ago. Chunks of rock flew everywhere—one after another smacking into Xu Ze and making him yelp in pain.
“Ow, ow, ow—that hurts!” Xu Ze grimaced as he scrambled up, cursing his bad luck for landing right where a few rocks were lying. He spotted the jet banking away and took off running again.
He couldn’t let the fighter lock onto his position again—if they hit him with another missile, he was done for.
The jet looped around in the distance and came back fast, but this time it opened up with its cannon from farther out, tearing a straight line through the trees toward him.
Watching row after row of trees get mowed down ahead, Xu Ze had no choice but to turn and run again.
Luckily, from another direction, a rocket shot up from the forest toward the jet, forcing it to change course and giving Xu Ze a precious moment to catch his breath.
