Fatal Strike: Mercenary Road of Gunfire Ranger
Chapter 204: Professional Rivals Just the Same

Chapter 204: Chapter 204: Professional Rivals Just the Same

Less than 5 minutes after the ambush was completed, there was a commotion at the factory...

The factory was so close to where the battle had taken place that it was necessary to send someone to check out what happened in order to know how to respond next.

Bolonicov’s helicopter was parked on the rooftop, ready for air evacuation at any moment should something go wrong.

These people, accustomed to city life and at most having witnessed gang shootouts, could hardly imagine the use of heavy weapons in Moscow, and thus subconsciously chose the approach most familiar to them.

minutes later, a squad of nearly 30 people sped out of the factory in 8 black SUVs.

Mountain Eagle, through Crow’s clear vision, saw the convoy’s movements. He glanced at the two gunmen huddled under the truck and pressed the communicator, saying, "Attention, they’re coming. Wait for them to get out of their vehicles before making a move..."

Before Mountain Eagle could finish speaking, the convoy, which had already covered a distance of nearly two kilometers, began to slow down. Most gunmen got out of their vehicles and followed behind them, using standard infantry coordination tactics. They relied on the cover of the vehicles and slowly approached the scene of the incident.

At the same time, several people used the cover of bushes to start attempting a flanking maneuver, aiming to circle around and cut off Mountain Eagle’s retreat.

"That’s interesting, very professional..."

Mountain Eagle stood up from his position, swiftly completed a flanking move along the inside edge of the bushland, and blocked the path of those flanking gunmen.

Lying behind a fallen dead tree, he quickly set up two trick mines using two Defensive Hand Grenades...

Mountain Eagle lay on the ground, swiftly retreating backward while speaking into the radio, "Pigeon, once they trigger the mines, give them a little surprise."

Pigeon, who could clearly see Mountain Eagle’s movements, replied with a laugh, "No problem, boss. There are only 6 of them, I can handle them myself."

Mountain Eagle moved to the side of a bush and then squatted there, raising his AK-105 towards the location of the trick mines.

"Don’t get complacent. This time’s opponent is quite professional; they’re a bit different from the gang."

Pigeon clearly saw Mountain Eagle’s movements and the direction of the advancing gunmen.

He couldn’t quite understand how his boss, standing on flat ground, was able to predict the enemy’s path in advance.

Even more puzzling to him was how the seemingly young boss could remain as calm as if he had been fighting his whole life.

The spot he chose was only about 30 meters away from the previous ambush site, meaning he was planning to let the flanking enemies approach very close.

This would allow him to take them down without delaying Butcher and his team’s ambush on those advancing closer while using the vehicles for cover.

Since the enemy definitely wanted to launch a simultaneous attack, engaging too early with the flanking forces would prevent the enemies on the road from entering the ambush zone.

Such a decision required an extremely calm mind and stout heart.

What’s even more incredible is that Pigeon, from hundreds of meters away, could clearly see his boss’s ’risky moves’, but somehow, it just felt right to him.

That feeling of stepping in the right place with every move gave Pigeon strong confidence.

With his eyes fixed on the scope, Pigeon’s index finger slowly moved and rested on the trigger as he took a deep breath, ready for the moment the enemy would trigger the trick mines...

A trap triggered by fishing line is virtually invisible in the dim light of night.

"Ding..."

The moment a gunman holding an AK kicked the fishing line, a crisp sound came from the bushes on the side.

The gunmen paused for a moment, exchanged glances, and as they realized what had happened...

"Boom..."

The Defensive Hand Grenade exploded, and the shrapnel made three men fall to the ground in pain.

At the same time, Mountain Eagle pulled the trigger, a bullet precisely hitting the location of the second trick mine. The bullet struck a tree branch, causing the trick mine that was stuck in a trunk position to roll onto the ground...

"Boom..."

The smoke from the explosion enveloped several gunmen, and Mountain Eagle stood up without hesitation, raising his gun and pulling the trigger...

"Bang bang bang bang..."

"Pop, pop..."

He and Pigeon’s crossfire left those wounded gunmen with no chance to hide...

After emptying a magazine, Mountain Eagle did not move forward to check but decisively turned and walked away...

At the moment of the Hand Grenade explosion, Butcher and his team also opened fire.

Although the opponent employed combined infantry-and-vehicle tactics, preventing them from causing too much damage at the beginning, the SUVs were not bulletproof.

Post Box’s Mini Mi Machine Gun erupted with the piercing sound of a chainsaw, raining bullets down on the two leading SUVs, stopping the vehicles and as the bullets pierced through, one gunman cried out in agony as he fell to the ground.

Just as the gunmen were using the vehicles to retaliate in the general direction of Post Box, Mountain Eagle, who had repositioned, pulled the trigger from 40 meters away from the enemy’s main force on the side of the highway...

"Bang bang, bang bang"

Swiftly taking down two gunmen, Mountain Eagle crawled laterally for about ten meters before the enemies could counterattack, then stood up using the cover of bushes and pulled out a Defensive Hand Grenade, hurling it forcefully over the bushes.

The Hand Grenade drew an arc in the air, bounced twice on the road, then rolled forward a few meters...

"Boom..."

The explosion mixed with the enemy’s moans turned up the intensity of the highway battlefield a notch.

These people had never imagined the kind of opponent they were facing; psychologically and physically unprepared, the gunmen suffered a tremendous blow.

"Boss, they’re trying to retreat..."

As Mountain Eagle sprinted, he heard Pigeon’s words, and he pressed his communicator and said, "Hold them off for a second, I’ll be in position in a few seconds.

Butcher, are the vanguards taken care of? Hurry up and clear the field and push forward.

Post Box, move to position G5; I need fire support..."

After Butcher took down several gunmen in the vanguard, he stood up and pulled out a Hand Grenade, removed the pin and let the grenade sit in his hand for a few seconds, then hurled it powerfully towards the van.

With a "boom," the van shook following the explosion, and the two gunmen hiding beneath it fell silent.

"Pirate, finish them off with your gun; I’m going to G4 to cover the boss..."

As Butcher and his team moved, from above it would appear that Mountain Eagle, Butcher, Post Box, and Pirate were like a Wolf Pack hunting on the prairie, pouncing on the startled and disorganized flock from all directions.

The guns in their hands were like the fangs of hungry wolves, each strike tearing a large chunk of flesh from the flock.

Continuously changing positions created the illusion for the surrounded gunmen that there were many enemies.

"What the hell is going on?"

A middle-aged man, sitting in a trailing SUV, dressed in a suit and looking like someone from the management level, grasped the shoulder of the driver and roared, "Reverse, reverse..."

As the driver was about to shift into reverse, a bullet struck his neck at an angle.

The driver’s carotid artery was severed, and blood gushed out like a fountain, turning the suited man into a ’red man’ in an instant.

Too scared to lift his head, the suit-wearing man crouched over the driver’s legs, frantically shifting the vehicle into reverse and let it slowly back away, all the while yelling loudly into the radio, "We’re surrounded, the enemy has a lot of people, backup, backup, we need backup..."

On the other end of the radio, an angry voice bellowed, "Who exactly is the opponent??"

......

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