Chapter 22

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Four Kamaz trucks appeared from the right fork in the road, with a heavy machine gun mounted on the roof and a Soviet flag fluttering on the engine cover.

These were the troops stationed at the nearby outpost, without tanks or infantry fighting vehicles, coming to encircle and suppress them in these trucks.

They were the vanguard, with the main task of tying down the enemy to buy time for the rear forces to mobilize. Once the rear forces, and even the helicopter units, were in action, they could easily crush this small guerrilla group.

As Hamdi discovered the Soviets, the Soviets also spotted them. Instantly, a burst of machine gun fire swept over.

"Boom, boom, boom." Muhammad revved the engine and turned the steering wheel to the left, and the nearly out-of-fuel Kamaz truck fled down the road.

The four Soviet trucks behind quickly followed in hot pursuit.

This road was even more treacherous, originally only used by local Afghan donkey carts. Now, with Muhammad driving the truck, it could easily fall off the cliff at any moment. Muhammad didn't ease off the gas, his hands constantly adjusting the steering wheel, the truck weaving through the narrow path. Durani and Hamdi opened their eyes wide, gripping the handrails tightly, afraid of falling.

"Screech." At a turn, Muhammad abruptly stopped the truck and said to the two men behind, "Durani, Hamdi, get out of the truck immediately and return to the base via the mountain!"

"No, Instructor, I want to fight alongside you!" Durani immediately said.

"Get the hell out of here, that's an order!" Muhammad said coldly.

The two men jumped out of the truck, and Muhammad continued to drive forward.

Muhammad had successfully drawn the Soviets' attention. The Soviet trucks were all chasing after him. This truck was almost out of fuel and would soon be caught by the Soviets. At this moment, the possibility of becoming a martyr was high. Muhammad didn't want Durani and Hamdi to become martyrs as well.

In times of danger, he would take it upon himself first!

As for Dana in the back seat, Muhammad hadn't forgotten her but deliberately left her behind. Muhammad wasn't a true gentleman; on the battlefield, whether through intrigue or straightforward tactics, winning the battle made one a hero. He kept Dana to use her at a critical moment.

While driving the truck at high speed, Muhammad glanced at the rearview mirror. Dana, with her bound hands, tightly gripped the handrail beside the seat, her face pale but showing no signs of trying to escape.

That was good. Muhammad continued to drive the car, speeding down the narrow path.

"Rat-tat-tat, rat-tat-tat..." The machine gun from the truck behind fired, a burst of bullets piercing the steel plate of the cab, the hot air grazing Muhammad's cheek.

His face felt hot and he was definitely wounded, but Muhammad didn't have time to touch his face. He asked Dana, "How are you? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Dana replied calmly.

"Get down," Muhammad said. "Crawl under the seat; the engine will protect you from being hit."

Dana obediently lay down, and at that moment, the sound from behind became even louder.

Even Muhammad couldn't stay in the driver's seat; the bullets from behind would hit him too. These were 12.7mm machine gun rounds, capable of penetrating even armored vehicles.

He also ducked to avoid the bullets.

At that moment, the right wheel of the heavy truck suddenly lifted high and then fell. Despite Muhammad's efforts to steer, he couldn't control it, and the entire truck flipped over the cliff.

On the left was a high mountain, and on the right was a cliff. It was a terrifying mountain road.

The heavy truck occasionally collided with the mountain as it rolled down.

The pursuing Soviet trucks all stopped, and the Soviet soldiers jumped out, crouching and watching the truck fall into the ravine.

All the guerrilla fighters were in that truck. With the truck falling, the Afghan resistance lost another force. The platoon leader, who had come to carry out the mission, nodded in satisfaction. This would be another battle achievement when he returned.

"Instructor!" Seeing the Soviet trucks drive away, Durani and Hamdi ran down from the hill where they were hiding, shouting and running towards the direction where the truck had fallen.

They knew that Muhammad had taken the initiative to draw the Soviets away to protect the villagers and the guerrillas' retreat. Now, with the Soviets gone, Muhammad had fallen off the cliff.

Durani knelt at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the rushing river, wanting to jump. Hamdi, standing beside him, held him back tightly.

"Durani, you'll definitely die if you jump! In the name of the Almighty, the Instructor is dead, we must continue to fight the Soviets and avenge the Instructor!" Hamdi said.

Durani looked down, tears streaming down his face. The cool mountain breeze blew through his hair, and he squatted at the edge of the cliff, unwilling to leave.

The mountain stream, though not large, flowed swiftly.

When the truck rolled down, Muhammad knew it was bad. His hands tightly gripped the steering wheel, and the good habit of wearing a seatbelt saved his life. His body was strapped to the seat, bouncing along with the truck.

"Ahh." A scream came from the back. Dana's body was bouncing around in the cab. The Soviet trucks were rugged, with cold steel inside. No matter where Dana's body hit, it caused pain. Her hands were still tightly bound, increasing her fear.

Suddenly, her body slipped from the front seat and landed on the driver's seat.

"Grab onto me!" Muhammad shouted, extending his hands to tightly hold Dana's body.

There was no other way. During the continuous rolling of the truck, if Muhammad didn't help Dana stabilize her body, she would be thrown around and suffer severe injuries, and the final impact when the truck hit the water would be fatal.

In a state of shock, Dana was held by Muhammad. She extended her hands, just in time to hook around Muhammad's neck. Before she could blush, a splash of water came from the front, and the truck had already entered the water.

"Danger!" Muhammad shouted, pressing Dana's body down. The truck plunged vertically, hitting a hard rock.

"Boom!" The truck's front hit the rock and rolled over, Muhammad's head hitting the top of the cab, which had already caved in.

Blood dripped from Muhammad's head, and the cold river water flooded into the cab. With a strong current, the truck was swept downstream.

Muhammad used all his strength to unfasten the seatbelt, took out a dagger, and cut the ropes binding Dana's hands.

"Quick, swim to shore," Muhammad said to Dana.

Throughout this series of actions, Muhammad had been protecting and helping Dana, not treating her as the wife of a traitor. It was all instinct.

The truck was still upside down. Muhammad pushed Dana out of the cab, and as he tried to follow, a huge wave swept towards the truck.

The cold river water hit his head, and the pain from his wound intensified. His consciousness gradually faded, and his hands mechanically moved, but his body became stiff...

The mountains of Afghanistan were cold and desolate. When Muhammad opened his eyes again, he saw bare stone walls around him, with a person's shadow reflected on them.

It was a cave, and the person was drying his clothes. Muhammad slowly supported himself, still feeling pain in his head. He touched it and found it had been bandaged.

A fire burned in the cave, and Dana was carefully drying Muhammad's clothes. When she sensed movement behind her, she turned around and saw Muhammad standing up.

Immediately, the clothes in her hands fell to the ground, and she said in a trembling voice, "You're awake?"

"Why?" Muhammad asked. "Why didn't you run away? You had many chances to escape after I passed out."

"You are a hero of the Afghan people," Dana said. "I am Sahar's woman, but I am also an Afghan woman. Sahar has betrayed the Soviets, and I, Dana, am no longer Sahar's wife!"

Dana suddenly knelt down. "Instructor Muhammad, I request to join the guerrillas. I want to fight the Soviets! I want to kill Sahar with my own hands!"

Dana's eyes were calm and determined. When she was pursued by the Soviets and bullets flew, her heart finally became resolute.

If she had died, she would have died. But since she survived, she had transcended her former self and become a different person. She wanted to fight the Soviets like these brave guerrilla fighters!

"No," Muhammad simply replied.

"Mr. Muhammad, please believe in my loyalty," Dana said. She knew that as the wife of a traitor, it was hard to gain trust, but she had made up her mind!

"No, I'm not doubting your loyalty," Muhammad said. "Every Afghan with a conscience would not serve the Soviets. I believe you support our guerrillas, but I don't want you to join us. I want you to return to Sahar."

Return to Sahar? Dana had long lost any affection for the traitor who had betrayed his people. She even wanted to kill Sahar. How could she return to Sahar?

"Sahar can no longer stand in the village. He might join the government army," Muhammad said. "We need an informant, someone who can gather information on Soviet movements."