Chapter 77

"Over here, he must have rolled over from here and then went down the mountain from there!" Ramaile shouted, "Come on, let's chase him!"

The position where Huwajia had been sniping from had already been determined, but this position was very strange, with only footprints leading in and none leading out.

There were traces of rolling on the snow, leading to where the bullets were densely fired. The ground there was pockmarked by the bullets, and further away, there were some unclear footprints.

Ramaile was convinced that the Soviet sniper had fled from that direction and was about to lead the Tajik boys in pursuit.

"There's no need to chase," Muhamed said, "The Soviet sniper didn't escape from there."

? Ramaile stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Muhamed. This person always commanded battles with incredible skill.

"The Soviet soldier walked from here," Muhamed pointed to the footprints on the ground.

"Impossible," Ramaile blurted out. After saying it, he realized that contradicting Instructor Muhamed in front of so many people was very inappropriate; he just didn't believe it.

These footprints were clearly coming in, how could they be escape footprints? Unless... unless this person walked backward! How could that be possible?

Muhamed shook his head helplessly. If Ramaile had observed more carefully, he wouldn't have been deceived by the Soviets. Although the footprints were backward, they were the clearest, indicating they were recently made. Just by this, Muhamed knew he was right.

Picking up the binoculars and following the footprints to the distance, Muhamed could see that the footprints disappeared 300 meters away.

This indicated that the Soviet soldier walked backward and hid in a snow cave 300 meters away!

The Soviets were indeed cunning!

If it weren't for Muhamed, the guerrillas would have searched the mountains, and the chaotic footprints would have obscured the unnoticeable backward footprints. By then, the Soviets would have truly disappeared from under their noses.

"Osama, prepare a rocket, target 300 meters away, at the 3 o'clock direction, the end of the footprints. Pay attention to the wind speed, and aim accurately!"

Ramaile watched Muhamed and Osama quietly. The rockets they brought had been thrown into the snow during the sniper attack. Osama brought one up, swept away a patch of snow to reveal a hard rock, placed it on top, and quickly aimed with a special caliper.

Muhamed looked at the end of the snow, thinking that the Soviets had changed their tactics, relying on snipers. This would show the Soviets that before the word "sniper," there are two words: "cannon fodder"!

"Ready!" Osama shouted. He had mastered the 107 rocket launcher very well and was very confident.

"Fire!" Muhamed shouted.

Osama connected the battery's wire, but the rocket didn't respond.

Osama was immediately frustrated. It was one thing for the guerrillas, but losing face in front of these Tajiks would be a disgrace to Instructor Muhamed.

Osama tried several more times, but there was still no response.

"Instructor..." Osama could only look up at Muhamed. Dealing with such temporary malfunctions required the instructor.

Muhamed looked at Osama's dejected face. The training for these new weapons was still insufficient.

Muhamed took a few steps forward and looked at the battery in Osama's hand, asking, "Do you have a new battery?"

Osama shook his head, knowing the problem was with the battery.

The battery had gotten wet. During the battle, it had fallen into the snow. If Osama hadn't noticed it in time, the battery would have been lost.

A wet battery had insufficient power and couldn't ignite the rocket.

Osama's face turned even more grim. Without a battery, the rocket couldn't be fired, and the attack would fail.

"We will surround and attack," Durani said. As long as the Soviet sniper's position was discovered, their dozens of people could certainly take him out.

Muhamed shook his head, "No need! This sniper has killed many of our Tajik brothers. Now, let him be shattered! This rocket is a gift for him!"

After saying that, Muhamed took the rocket, forcefully hit the back cover against the rock.

The people around, including Osama and Durani, instinctively took a few steps back. What was the instructor doing?

All shells are filled with explosive material. If a single impact could ignite the shell, transporting them would be extremely dangerous.

The rocket was the same. Muhamed hit the back cover three times without hesitation, and it opened. He pulled it off with his hands, exposing the propellant.

"Re-aim," Muhamed told Osama.

Is this possible? Looking at the rocket with the back cover removed, Osama repeated his previous actions.

Muhamed, standing nearby, covered his mouth with both hands and skillfully lit a cigarette.

"Everyone, step back," Muhamed said.

Seeing the people around step back, Muhamed took a few puffs of the cigarette and touched the rocket's propellant with the cigarette butt.

This propellant wasn't easy to ignite. A torch would be better! Muhamed saw the cigarette butt was about to go out, put it in his mouth, took two puffs, and placed it back.

After three seconds, a spark appeared on the propellant.

Run! Muhamed took a few large steps to the side.

A small spark at the back of the rocket suddenly turned into a flame. The flame burned for a second, and then, with a whoosh, the 107 rocket flew out like an arrow.

At that moment, a figure suddenly jumped out of the snow 300 meters away.

At first, Shcherbakov didn't know what the guerrillas were doing. The advantage of a sniper is concealment, and Shcherbakov was confident in his hiding.

The wind was blowing towards the mountain top, so Shcherbakov couldn't hear the guerrillas' conversation clearly. He could only hear the footsteps on the snow, knowing they were still on the mountain top and hadn't moved.

What are they doing? Shcherbakov continued to wait, confident he hadn't been discovered. The footsteps weren't coming towards him.

After waiting for another ten minutes, Shcherbakov heard a collision sound, and a minute later, a whoosh.

This sound made Shcherbakov's heart tremble. He had already guessed what was happening!

The damned Afghan guerrillas were using a rocket to bomb him!

This guerrilla group from north of Jalalabad had a certain number of rockets. No one knew where the rockets came from, but they knew these people were very skilled in operating them and could hit their targets accurately!

They had already discovered his hiding spot and were using a rocket to bomb him! Shcherbakov made a new decision in an instant.

He jumped out of the snow cave and sprinted backward on the white snow.

There was no other choice. Run, keep running, cross the mountain, and find a new sniper position. If they dared to chase, he would snipe again!

Unfortunately, it was too late.

Shcherbakov had only run a dozen steps when he heard a loud explosion behind him.

Following that, countless shrapnel scattered in all directions. Shcherbakov felt several intense pains on his back, the sensation of shrapnel piercing his body.

A hot air current hit his back, and he fell forward, rolling twice to extinguish the flames on his back.

The blood flowing from his back dyed the white snow red. After rolling a few times, his body felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, and he couldn't move anymore.

There was indeed a sniper there! Only now did Ramaile believe it, and the sniper who had killed several of their boys was taken out by a rocket! This revenge was well done!

The guerrillas gathered around. Muhamed fired two more shots to ensure the man was dead, then picked up the sniper rifle on the ground.

It was an ordinary SVD sniper rifle. Five notches were carved on the stock, representing five kills, and this latest kill hadn't been carved yet.

"Instructor, I didn't hit him," Huwajia said, approaching Muhamed. The instructor had used himself as bait to create an opportunity for Huwajia, but Huwajia had still missed.

"The distance was too far, beyond the accuracy of your sniper rifle," Muhamed said.

Although the SVD is called a sniper rifle in the Soviet arsenal, it is essentially a precision rifle, with accuracy inferior to modern advanced automatic rifles.

For example, at 600 meters, the spread is 395 millimeters, which means that even if you aim, the bullet's deviation at 600 meters is the width of a person.

Huwajia's expression was still very embarrassed. This was his mistake.

"Congratulations," Muhamed said to Huwajia, "You can shoot more accurately in the future. This guy was a professional sniper, and he used specialized 7N1 sniper rounds. With these, you won't make the same mistake again."

Huwajia wanted to use sniper rounds but couldn't find them, so he had to use ordinary 7.62mm bullets, which were less accurate. Now, this guy was a sniper, and his ammunition was specialized. Huwajia was delighted and bent down to take the other's ammunition pouch.

"Let's go back to base," Muhamed said firmly. The mission was completed, but at the cost of several Tajik boys. His tone left no room for argument.

Osama and Ramaile didn't dare to say anything. The confidence they had in destroying the Soviet airfield had long flown over the Pamir Mountains. How could they attack an airfield when a single Soviet sniper had already made them so miserable!