Chapter 75

The cold wind howled, and although the heavy snow had stopped three days ago, the snow on the ground was still being continuously blown up by the wind, swirling in the air.

The winter in Afghanistan was abnormally cold, and on the side of the mountain where the sun never shone, the snow accumulated to a depth of three meters.

Stepping on the thick snow, a dozen people walked with deep and shallow steps.

Most of them were from the Chahdam village, many of whom were the ones who had transported food. When the Soviet bombs were dropped on their village, their hearts could no longer be calm.

The brave instructor saved the people of their village, but he himself was poisoned, and his condition was unknown.

Although the Tajiks were poor, and they were usually taciturn and unwilling to interact with people from other ethnic groups, they were all people who valued righteousness.

Muhammad was their benefactor, and now that their benefactor's life was in danger, they wanted to take revenge!

Only two or three people carried the AEFELD MKIII rifles, with ammunition belts slung across their bodies. This old-style rifle was already one of their most powerful weapons. The rest of them, some even carried only a machete, but their fierce and ferocious demeanor made up for the inferiority of their weapons.

In addition to their own weapons, each of them also carried a rocket-propelled grenade (RPG). This was their biggest reliance for this counterattack. It was said that these RPGs were extremely powerful, and the dozen or so RPGs they had could completely destroy the Bagram base!

Lamal and Osama, along with Durrani, walked at the front. The two of them carried AKM rifles, while Durrani carried an RPK light machine gun. If the mountain path wasn't so difficult, he would have taken the Type 54 heavy machine gun from the guerrillas.

Osama's eyes were full of anger. The Soviets had brazenly invaded Afghanistan, and Osama, driven by his passion, came to Afghanistan, established a service camp, and helped the Afghan guerrillas resist the Soviet invasion. When he was rescued from the prison in Jalalabad, he had already recognized Muhammad as his instructor and decided to fight the Soviets with him!

Now, Muhammad had been harmed by the Soviet gas bombs. When Osama heard this news, his chest almost exploded with rage. He pushed the 107mm rocket launcher, ready to fight the Soviets to the death.

That cowardly Khwaja! The instructor is about to die, and he doesn't even think of avenging him! Osama despised this guy. Moreover, Osama even suspected that Khwaja might be willing to see the instructor die so that he could regain control of the guerrillas.

Hmph, it's not that easy! This unit has been deeply marked by Muhammad, who is their spiritual leader.

Unfortunately, the other members of the team clearly still followed Khwaja, and only Durrani followed him out.

As they walked, everyone was exhausted. They relied entirely on their willpower to get this far.

At a sheltered spot, they all sat on the snow, eating the dry rations they had brought with them.

"Lamal, how much longer do we have to walk?" Osama asked Lamal, who was unfamiliar with this mountainous area.

"We've been walking for three days. The snow is too heavy, and the road is difficult. At our current speed, it will take another day and a half to get there," Lamal said. "Sir Osama, can these rockets destroy the Soviet airfield?"

"Of course, last time we used these rockets, the Soviet airfield was completely destroyed," Osama said. "I was the one who fired them."

Talking about this, Osama was very proud. He was an excellent rocket launcher operator.

"I wish we could kill all these Soviets right now!" Durrani said. "Osama, when we get to the airfield, don't kill all the Soviets. Leave a few for me; I want to kill them with my own hands!"

Several victories had made them a bit overconfident, as if war was that simple.

As Durrani spoke, he picked up his machine gun, which was heavy with ammunition. He was already imagining the bullets piercing the bodies of the Soviet soldiers.

Just as Durrani was about to take a shooting stance, he suddenly saw a flash of light on the side of the mountain.

Durrani didn't feel anything at first, but remembering the instructor's training, he immediately realized that the light was not ordinary! It was the scope of a sniper rifle!

"Sniper!" Durrani shouted, rolling to the side. He saw a flurry of snow on the opposite mountain, which was the wind from the gun's muzzle blowing the surrounding snow.

In battle, the machine gunner is the most threatening and the favorite target of snipers. As Durrani rolled, a bullet hit the spot where he had just been, with the sound of the shot following a moment later.

Durrani picked up his machine gun and, like a swift leopard, ran to a rock a few meters away.

Several shots followed, all hitting just behind Durrani's feet, the difference between life and death being just a few centimeters.

Durrani panted heavily. If there was only one sniper, they might still have a chance to win, but this shot represented the enemy, and there was no other force besides the Soviets!

Would the Soviets send only one sniper? Of course not! If they came, they would come in large numbers!

These Tajik young men were not guerrillas and had never been to a battlefield. They were just villagers who had just picked up weapons. The sudden gunfire frightened them, and they didn't know how to take cover. They only reacted when Durrani ran to the rock.

"Quick, take cover!" Lamal reacted quickly, moving to another rock. When he reached it, he found that Osama was already hiding there.

Osama, with his gun, slowly poked his head out from behind the rock.

As soon as he poked his head out, Osama suddenly ducked down.

A bullet whizzed past his head. If Osama had been a fraction of a second slower, his head would have been blown off.

The enemy was an expert!

Osama didn't dare to raise his head.

Lamal also didn't dare to raise his head. The enemy's shooting was too precise; it was a cunning sniper!

The two of them didn't dare to move, and Durrani, a few meters away, also didn't dare to move. At this moment, the sound of the sniper rifle echoed through the valley.

"Bang, bang, bang." Each shot took a life. The Tajik young men, with their machetes not yet drawn and their AEFELD rifles not yet cocked, were shot down one by one.

"Quick, take cover!" Durrani shouted.

The young men, untrained, panicked and ran around, becoming easy targets for the sniper.

"Damn Soviets!" Durrani suddenly emerged from behind his rock, set up his RPK machine gun, aimed at the sniper's position, and pulled the trigger.

"Ratta, ratta, ratta." The RPK machine gun burst into a fierce roar, sending bullets flying to the opposite mountain.

Are snipers so formidable? The instructor taught that before "sniper" comes the word "cannon fodder"! Damn it, use artillery to deal with snipers!

Unfortunately, they had no artillery, so they had to use machine guns to take out the enemy!

Seeing Durrani's burst, Osama and Lamal also poked their heads out and pulled their triggers.

With three guns firing, they were confident they could outgun a single Soviet sniper!

Since they were in the valley and the enemy was on the mountain, all three had to aim their guns upward to target the mountain.

As the machine guns fired, Durrani's shoulders trembled, and his eyes, through the sight, focused on the mountain.

At that moment, a black dot appeared in his vision, rapidly growing larger, completely filling his pupils.

It was a bullet! Durrani could almost see the spinning bullet slicing through the air, whistling sharply, and about to pierce his head.

Durrani's only option was to duck.

Following that, a violent impact hit his helmet, and Durrani felt the helmet pushing his head backward, almost tearing his neck. His body fell backward.

"Durrani!" Osama shouted from the other side, quickly crouching down and seeing Durrani hit by the bullet and fall behind the rock.

"Ah." Lamal screamed and also hid behind the rock.

Lamal's ear was gone, the wound bleeding profusely. Just now, he had also tilted his head to look at Durrani, which saved him from being hit, but he lost an ear.

The enemy sniper was too skilled! Lamal, holding his ear, looked around the open area.

Six of their brothers had already fallen, and only five had taken cover behind the rocks, two of them injured.

Durrani was also gone. Durrani was the instructor Muhammad's most trusted subordinate, always fighting alongside the instructor. He never expected to be lost here!

Osama felt very depressed. He replaced the magazine and wanted to raise his head to shoot again. Although he knew it would mean certain death, he had to do it!

Their group of a dozen people being suppressed by a single sniper was a disgrace!

Just as Osama was about to raise his body, he saw Durrani slowly sit up behind the rock.

Durrani wasn't dead?

Thanks to the helmet! Durrani remembered that after they had defeated the Soviets, the instructor was very interested in the Soviet helmets and had them take the helmets away. Since then, Durrani always wore the helmet in battle, even though it was very uncomfortable in the cold weather.

The bullet didn't penetrate the helmet, but the massive impact almost tore his neck. He sat on the ground, panting. How many times had he narrowly escaped death?

"Clatter, clatter." At that moment, the sound of horses running came from the other side of the valley.

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