Chapter 61

This damn weather! James cursed again. In the group, the Pakistani fighters, disguised as civilians, were transporting the supplies.

Compared to James, the Pakistani fighters were relatively calm. After all, they were helping their Afghan brothers. Since the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, not only had the war spread throughout Afghanistan, but the border regions of Pakistan had also become unstable. Soviet planes often crossed into Pakistani airspace, and several air battles had erupted.

Their feet trampled through the deep snow. The people in front had already stepped on the snow, creating footprints that were then flattened. By the time those behind walked through, the snow had turned into a layer of dark ice, soaking their military boots.

James gazed at the undulating mountains, cursed a few more times, and then continued to trample through the snow. He knew the importance of this mission. After venting his frustration, he gathered his composure and continued to trample through the snow.

The donkeys were used to pull the cargo, and even James himself had to walk through the snow.

At the back, several rocket launchers were being pulled by donkeys. The launchers were not heavy, but the snow was too deep. The Pakistani soldiers pushed from behind, exhausted.

Step by step, they walked. The hundreds of kilometers of mountain roads made them suffer greatly.

"Alert!" Suddenly, a Pakistani soldier at the front shouted to those behind.

With his shout, all the soldiers quickly took out their automatic rifles from the donkeys and looked vigilantly at the distance and the sides.

On both sides were mountains, with only a narrow valley in the middle, making it very easy to be ambushed.

Even if rocks were thrown from the mountain tops, it would be enough to cause them trouble.

Several horsemen appeared in the distance, which made them inexplicably excited. The ones coming were not Soviets, but...

Afghan guerrillas!

The hooves of the horses left footprints in the snow. The people on the horses looked at them with equally excited expressions.

"Long live the jihad!" the approaching riders shouted, loudly addressing the transport team: "We are here to meet you, sent by Instructor Muhammad. Thank you for your hard work."

James threw away the cigar in his mouth and said to the lead rider: "Khwaja, I recognize you. I've seen you in the guerrillas."

"Mr. James, thank you for your hard work," Khwaja said.

After entering the Afghan mountains, James's hard days finally ended. He handed over the supplies to the Afghan guerrillas and mounted one of their horses.

Khwaja looked at the supplies with a smile. Upon learning that the Americans had transported supplies, Muhammad immediately sent Khwaja with a dozen people to meet them.

At the same time, it was to protect them. The Wakhan Corridor was too dangerous. In Muhammad's memory, after the Soviets discovered this passage, they often ambushed here.

Khwaja looked at the multi-barrel rocket launchers at the back and was even more excited. With these weapons, fighting the Soviets would be much easier. Moreover, these rocket launchers were so small that they could be pulled by horses, perfect for guerrilla warfare in the mountains.

However... the heavy snow was causing the donkeys and Pakistanis great trouble, as evident from their miserable appearance.

"Come, let's help," Khwaja said, dismounting from his horse.

"What are you going to do?" the Pakistani soldiers asked, watching the dozen people take out wrenches and pliers and start working on the multi-barrel rocket launchers.

"Take them apart," Khwaja said, quickly removing two tires and then, in order, disassembling the rocket launch tubes.

After disassembling the rocket launchers, Khwaja and his men placed them on their horses. A multi-barrel rocket launcher, when disassembled, could be carried by three horses.

Seeing the rocket launchers being disassembled, the Pakistani soldiers said, "This is a good idea. Disassemble them, and reassemble them when we get back. By the way, how do you know so much about these rocket launchers?"

Khwaja unscrewed the last screw, put it in a bag, and said, "Actually, we don't know much. This is the first time we're disassembling them."

They had only seen the rockets a month ago, and this was the first time they saw the rocket launchers.

The Pakistani soldiers were shocked: "Aren't these rocket launchers now useless?"

"We just disassemble them," Khwaja said. "When we get back, Instructor Muhammad will reassemble them."

Before they left, Muhammad had considered the difficulty of transporting the multi-barrel rocket launchers in this weather and tasked Khwaja with disassembling them and placing them on the horses they brought. As long as Khwaja didn't disassemble them too violently or lose any parts, Muhammad could easily reassemble them.

After disassembling them, the Pakistani soldiers felt relieved. Their mission was complete.

Except for James, the other Pakistani soldiers completed their mission and turned back into the mountains to return to Pakistan.

James, riding a horse, hummed a tune.

"Mr. James, before we left, Mr. Muhammad repeatedly emphasized that we must be careful, stay hidden, and not reveal our movements," Khwaja said, seeing James with a cigar in his mouth, riding the horse.

"The secret passage here, the Soviets will never discover. It's so cold now, who would believe anyone is walking here?" James said. "If it weren't for discussing further support with Mr. Muhammad, I wouldn't bother going to the mountains. It's cold like hell here."

James spoke bluntly, as if a wealthy man was giving alms to a beggar.

Khwaja looked around. They were now in Afghan territory, and the journey had been peaceful so far. The return trip should be smooth.

The Soviets wouldn't act at this time.

Khwaja didn't know that, at that moment, a reconnaissance satellite was flying overhead.

The satellite's camera kept rotating, finally focusing on the ground, locking, and zooming in. The signal was transmitted through a synchronous satellite to the ground.

Several KGB intelligence analysts stared at the enlarged satellite image, extremely serious.

"Send the intelligence immediately to the 108th Division of the 40th Army. They know what to do," a KGB leader said.

"Chief, the 108th Division's combat capability is too weak. We should send GRU personnel to avenge A Team!"

"This is the higher-ups' decision," the KGB leader said. "The captain of A Team who was killed last time was the son of the 108th Division's commander. Rest assured, the 108th Division won't fail this time."

Soon, the top-secret intelligence was placed on Kulikov's desk.

Holding the intelligence, Kulikov's mind was filled with the determined face of his son. The last time he saw his son was three years ago, before his unit was deployed to Afghanistan. Now, he would never see him again.

Faced with the attack on their airbase, Kulikov did not immediately mobilize all his forces to find the guerrillas in the mountains. He gradually understood that this approach would only result in more losses and would not effectively strike the guerrillas.

Deploying a battalion or a regiment was not as effective as finding the guerrillas' base and then sending a platoon, or even a squad!

Kulikov held back his forces and focused on the Wakhan Corridor. Since the guerrillas' weapons were transported from an Eastern country, the Wakhan Corridor was the only route.

With the help of the reconnaissance satellite, they monitored the Wakhan Corridor several times a day. After a month, they finally discovered the transport team and tracked them several times, confirming that they had met with the Afghan guerrillas.

"Order the 181st Reconnaissance Company to parachute into the Wakhan Corridor," Kulikov said. "Follow the Afghan guerrillas transporting the weapons, find their base, and completely eliminate this guerrilla group!"

Kulikov's fist slammed on the table, leaving a crack in the thick huanghuali wood.

To avenge his son! If not for his responsibility as the division commander, Kulikov would have personally joined the operation, armed with an AK-74, to wipe out the guerrillas!

"Commander, why not just send a few people to track them, and call for reinforcements when we find the guerrillas' base?" Chief of Staff Belgrade said. "It's freezing outside, and it will take several days to track them in the mountains to find the guerrillas' trail."

Belgrade felt intuitively that Kulikov's tactics were not quite right. After all, the Wakhan Corridor was still far from the guerrillas' base.

Kulikov shook his head. "No, if it were any other guerrilla group, we might do that. But for this one, we must be cautious. I have a feeling that our doe, as soon as it enters the mountains, will be detected by the cunning Muhammad, who will immediately retreat deeper into the mountains, making it impossible to find them."

This guerrilla group, capable of attacking an airbase, showed the exceptional skills of their commander. Although Kulikov was eager for revenge, he knew he had to be cautious.

In the dark night, the rumbling sound of helicopters filled the sky. Three Mi-8 helicopters, nicknamed "Hippopotamus" for their large bellies, landed on a wide area in the Wakhan Corridor.

Soviet soldiers in winter combat uniforms jumped out. They were the most elite reconnaissance company soldiers. Their movements, even the smallest alert actions, showed that they were battle-hardened and excellent soldiers.

---

**End of Page**