Chapter 49

With a gaunt face, one side swollen high, he had taken a heavy blow during the interrogation. Despite his body being relatively unharmed, with no visible blood or wounds, he sat on the straw spread on the ground, looking at Muhammad with a pair of sharp eyes.

"Brother, how did you get in here?" Seeing the blood still flowing from Muhammad's arm, clearly a gunshot wound, his attitude toward Muhammad instantly became very friendly. The two were definitely people with a common faith.

"I used a rocket, blew up a bar, and killed over a hundred Soviets," Muhammad said calmly.

Over a hundred! This man almost jumped up immediately, but as soon as he moved, he let out a groan and sat back down.

His hands and feet were chained together, making it impossible for him to move.

"Brother, I admire you!" the man on the ground said. "You're a great hero!"

Muhammad sat down next to him and asked, "How did you get in here?"

"I founded a service camp," the man on the ground said. "I recruited Arab volunteers to help Afghan refugees and the Afghan guerrillas. Jalalabad was under lockdown these past two days. I was caught when I tried to pass through a checkpoint."

Service camp! Muhammad instantly thought of the name of a globally renowned figure from the future and couldn't help but ask, "Osama bin Laden?"

Osama was born into a wealthy merchant family in Saudi Arabia. Originally, his life could have been like any other rich second-generation, attending university, inheriting a company, marrying a dozen wives, and enjoying everything wealth could bring.

However, Osama's life did not follow this path. The Soviet invasion of Afghanistan disrupted his life. Young and passionate, Osama abandoned his studies and came from the peaceful Saudi Arabia to the war-torn Afghanistan.

In the early days, Osama did not directly participate in the fight against the Soviets. He was more like the International Red Cross, helping Afghan refugees and sometimes aiding the Afghan guerrillas.

This put Osama on the Soviets' blacklist, and he was captured unexpectedly during this operation.

These past two days, Jalalabad had increased its alertness due to the arrival of two test pilots. To ensure their safety, roadblocks and inspections were very strict.

In the end, the two test pilots were killed, and their bodies could not even be found, leaving only broken limbs and fragments in the ruins.

Hearing Muhammad call out his name, Osama was even more puzzled, "How do you know my name?"

"I am the commander of a guerrilla group in the northern mountains of Jalalabad," Muhammad said. "I've heard of you. You've helped many Afghan refugees and even bought a batch of weapons with your own money, which you gave to the guerrillas."

A guerrilla group in the north? Osama couldn't help but ask, "Do you know Muhammad Kamal? He led the guerrillas to attack the Jalalabad airbase and destroyed over a dozen Mi-24s. I came to Jalalabad this time to meet him."

Muhammad touched his nose, "I am Muhammad. I didn't realize I was so famous."

Osama looked at Muhammad's hands in surprise, "You were handcuffed when you came in."

Muhammad had a paperclip in his hand, which he had taken from the side when he came out of the interrogation. Now, he straightened the paperclip and, while talking to Osama, used it to unlock the handcuffs.

"Keep it down," Muhammad said.

Osama watched in amazement as Muhammad continued to use the paperclip to unlock the leg irons. After a dozen tries, the leg irons clattered open.

"Come, it's your turn," Muhammad said.

Osama was even more uncomfortable. His handcuffs and leg irons were linked together, so he had to maintain this position, and his body was already sore.

Muhammad poked a few times and unlocked the handcuffs. Osama breathed a sigh of relief and moved his wrists.

Then, Muhammad continued to work on the leg irons. After a while, Osama was finally free.

Footsteps came from outside the door. A guard looked through the window in the iron door, saw both of them leaning against the wall, and left.

Everyone has their off moments. Now, Muhammad was unfortunately captured. He knew he only had one chance.

Relying on those secrets, he had temporarily fooled the Soviets. Once they confirmed the information, they would interrogate him again. And since he had killed so many Soviets, the idea of getting out alive was a fantasy. Even if he revealed all the secrets, the end result would still be execution.

This was the only chance, to escape!

Muhammad re-examined the prison. This was the old Jalalabad prison, with walls made of bricks, not very solid. If he had enough time, he could easily dig a hole in the wall, but now, time was short.

The iron door in front had only a small opening for food. Unless he tricked the guard into opening the door, there was no way out.

The only option left was the back wall. At the top of the wall, there was a steel bar embedded in the bricks, forming a small ventilation window. The prison was airtight, and prisoners often suffocated to death. Later, the prison was renovated to add these ventilation windows.

It seemed he could only try to escape through the ventilation window. Muhammad took the leg irons and wrapped the chain around the steel bar next to the ventilation window. The thick steel bar was impossible to bend.

After wrapping the chain, Muhammad inserted the handcuffs between the chain links and used them as a lever to tighten the chain. The chain gradually tightened, and the two steel bars began to bend with a slight creak.

The handcuffs were not very effective. A crowbar would have been better. Muhammad's hands ached, but this was his only chance to escape, and he couldn't give up.

As the chain tightened, it pulled the two steel bars closer together, bending them. One of the steel bars began to loosen, and finally, it pulled out of the brick seam!

Muhammad took the steel bar and saw a hole in the window. He repeated the process and removed three more steel bars. The hole, though small, was large enough for a person to crawl through.

"Osama, quickly, you go first," Muhammad said to Osama.

"You go first!" Osama was very chivalrous at this moment.

"Alright," Muhammad didn't argue. At this moment, going out first was more dangerous, as the Soviets were everywhere outside.

Muhammad's head went through the hole first. Unless he was a fat man, if his head could fit, his body would follow.

Muhammad wriggled through the hole and slowly climbed out. This was the second floor, and he reached out to grab the sewer pipe and slowly climbed down.

It was still dusk, about half an hour before dark.

As Muhammad came out, Osama followed. When he saw the distance to the ground, he hesitated for a moment.

Muhammad's feet touched the ground, and he looked up at Osama, waving him to come down.

Osama, in the same motion, kept waving Muhammad to go first.

What's going on? Muhammad looked back and saw two Soviet soldiers suddenly appear at the corner of the wall.

They had AK-74s slung over their shoulders, and their alertness was very low. They came to the corner lazily and were about to unzip their pants.

The prison had only one toilet, which was far away, so the guards often came to the back of the prison to relieve themselves.

Besides relieving themselves, some even defecated here.

The two soldiers unzipped their pants and were about to take out their private parts when one of the Soviet soldiers suddenly looked up and saw Muhammad, who had nowhere to hide.

He was startled, "What are you doing here?"

He let go of his pants and tried to draw his gun from behind. As soon as he let go, his pants fell, and a cold wind blew, making his private parts cold.

Muhammad didn't think twice. In this situation, he had to fight!

Muhammad still had the steel bar in his hand, which he had taken out when he dismantled the prison window. He grabbed the steel bar and thrust it forward.

The steel bar, with a sharp whistle, pierced the chest of the Soviet soldier who was just about to pull up his pants. The soldier let out a scream and fell backward.

Muhammad quickly pulled the bayonet from the soldier's belt.

The other Soviet soldier, seeing Muhammad kill his comrade, had already pulled up his pants, stepped back, and quickly drew his gun. Just as he was about to pull the bolt, a special object flew toward him.

Disgusting! Feces! The Soviet soldier instinctively leaned back, but he couldn't avoid it. The object hit his face, and he couldn't open his eyes.

Muhammad took this opportunity to swing the bayonet, slicing through the man's windpipe and then his carotid artery.

Blood splattered on Muhammad, who pulled the bayonet back as the man loosened his grip and clutched his neck. Muhammad quickly grabbed the AK-74 rifle.

"Quick!" Muhammad sheathed the bayonet, took the gun in one hand, and quickly unfastened the Soviet soldier's ammunition belt, putting it on himself. He shouted to Osama behind him.

Osama had also been very brave, jumping directly from the second floor and picking up something on the ground, which he thought was a half-brick but turned out to be not fully dried feces. Throwing it, it had a better effect.

Osama ran over, bent down, and grabbed the AK-74 rifle from the other Soviet soldier, who was still conscious, trembling, and coughing up blood.

He also took the ammunition belt, and his eyes were full of fighting spirit. Being able to fight alongside Muhammad was very satisfying for Osama.