Chapter 89

Finally, a path opened up behind them. Everyone felt their hearts pounding, and they slowly retreated, their guns without magazines, unable to fire, but still maintaining the posture of shooting, a subconscious action.

Osama was the last to leave, his face still maintaining a calm smile, holding the switch of the electric detonator in his hand, his lips seemingly curling up in a sarcastic manner.

Step by step, they left the Soviet encirclement and moved towards the direction of the mountain top.

The distance between the two sides gradually increased. Muhammad looked at the Soviets staying in place and the helicopter hovering in the sky. They were still not out of danger. Just now, the Soviets had intended to abandon the Soviet soldiers they had captured. Once they were out of Osama's range, the danger would approach again.

Osama also realized this, so he walked very slowly, maintaining a distance of several dozen meters from Muhammad and the others.

As they got closer to the mountain top, the Soviets still did not move. Muhammad's heart beat faster. He knew he had made the right bet. The Soviets knew this was a cliff, so they watched as they walked into a dead end without stopping them.

Step by step, when they reached the mountain top, everyone stopped.

Behind them was a sheer cliff, and below the cliff was a rushing river, a mountain stream.

"Snipers, fire!" the Soviet battalion commander shouted.

Following the battalion commander's order, the snipers, who had already aimed their crosshairs at their targets, were ready. Except for a few Soviet captives, they were confident about the rest.

As their fingers pulled the triggers, bullets flew across the 800 meters in just one second.

Their eyes remained fixed on the scopes, waiting for the bullets to hit their targets, spraying blood.

But at that moment, it seemed as if the other side knew they were about to be sniped and made new movements.

Muhammad led the way, leaping off the cliff with a powerful push from his legs.

Before jumping, Muhammad had already used his military knife to stab the Soviet captives in the back.

What was so scary about a cliff? Just jump. Especially with a deep river below.

Muhammad's head went down first, his arms extended forward, in a standard diving posture. "Thud." A light sound, his body submerged in the water, sinking about five or six meters before stopping. He kicked hard, moving like a fish, and surfaced.

Around him, heads began to appear. Muhammad was very happy to see that everyone, including Faisal, was still alive.

"We need to leave quickly," Muhammad said.

The Soviets appeared on the cliff. When they looked down, they only saw the river. They did not have the courage to jump down.

The air currents at the cliff were too complex. The Mi-8 helicopter, which had followed quickly, only dared to hover at the top of the cliff, not daring to descend further.

"Rattle, rattle, rattle." From the top of the cliff, Soviet soldiers fired down. The bullets entered the water, drawing arcs, and after a few meters, began to tumble in the water.

"Circle around and completely seal off this area!" the Soviet commander said in a fit of rage.

...

Lion's Mouth.

Here, the rocks stood tall, and the protruding rock on the mountain top resembled a lion, hence the name Lion's Mouth given by the mountain people.

Sparse trees grew on the mountain. In this not-so-dense forest, the guerrillas waited quietly.

This was a failed battle. Although they managed to retreat, nearly half of their men were dead. Thinking of their comrades lying in that mountain pass, everyone felt a surge of determination.

Masood was even more saddened. He thought of how he had gradually fallen in love with Karina since they met. He really liked her, and she was not just a pretty face; she could fight. Masood considered her his confidante and eventually his wife.

Originally, Masood had planned not to get married until the Soviets were driven out. However, Karina's appearance made him forget his former resolve. He trusted Karina completely.

Now, Karina had given him a harsh lesson. She led him into a Soviet ambush. If not for Muhammad's rescue, all his men would have been killed.

Unity! As long as all Afghans, regardless of ethnicity, unite, they can achieve victory! Masood, who had previously held prejudices against the Pashtuns, had now completely eliminated them. Especially Muhammad, who not only led his guerrillas to save him but also chose to stay behind and cover them at the most critical moment.

Half a day had passed, and Muhammad still had not returned. Masood's anxiety grew.

"Durani, why hasn't our instructor returned?" Rameel asked Durani from another group.

Despite the bond formed through life and death, they still sat in two circles. Around Durani, his fellow guerrillas were scattered.

"Our instructor is giving the Soviets a good beating. Once he has beaten them all, he will return," Durani said.

With Muhammad, Khwaja, and Osama absent, Durani, as one of the original members of Muhammad's guerrillas, had to hold the group together.

In fact, Durani was also worried. This time was different from before. The instructor had only a dozen men to block hundreds of Soviets, and the Soviets had helicopters and infantry fighting vehicles. The instructor... the instructor will definitely return! Durani believed the instructor was always good at creating miracles and would not disappoint him this time.

At that time... if he had disobeyed the order and fought with the instructor, it would have been better! But if the instructor were to sacrifice himself, Durani would lead the men to avenge him!

Durani looked firmly into the distance, took out a piece of field rations, and started to chew.

These were the field rations provided as support. Though hard and dry, they were very filling. A small piece could sustain him for half a day.

"Chirp, chirp." At that moment, the guerrilla on watch made a soft insect-like sound, a warning signal. Someone was approaching!

"Prepare for battle," Durani shouted, shouldering his RPK light machine gun and moving forward quickly.

Outside the forest, a group of figures appeared, moving quickly, almost like a gust of wind, and soon came into view.

Instructor! Durani immediately recognized the figure at the front, feeling a surge of excitement, and ran out of the hidden forest.

"Instructor, you're finally back!" Durani shouted to Muhammad.

"Of course, I'm back. Where else would I go?" Muhammad said: "Where is Mr. Masood?"

"Mr. Masood, on behalf of the Panjshir guerrillas, I deeply thank you for your actions this time," Masood said, bending his body, placing his right hand on his chest, and bowing deeply. "You are right. As long as we Afghans unite, we can achieve the final victory."

Muhammad's clothes were still dripping wet. After jumping into the water, he swam for several miles and landed at a hidden spot. Then, under Faisal's guidance, they crossed a small path and returned here.

At that moment, even Muhammad felt a sense of relief from a near-death experience. Every battle in Afghanistan was so intense.

After this battle, the Panjshir guerrillas and his own guerrillas finally became true comrades. They realized the importance of unity, which made Muhammad very pleased.

"Mr. Masood, our guerrillas are all fighting the Soviets. If we unite, we will surely succeed," Muhammad said, reaching out to help Masood up. At that moment, he noticed a shiny object on Masood's arm.

Muhammad's face changed instantly: "Mr. Masood, where did you get that watch?"

...

On a barren hill, the GRU special forces soldiers sat on the ground. Diako looked at the surrounding mountains and asked Kurniaeva: "Aiva, can you find those guerrillas?"

The Panjshir guerrillas were trapped in the ambush, but Muhammad's Jalalabad guerrillas did not fall into the trap. Diako and his special forces, led by Kurniaeva, had been searching the mountains for a while without any results.

Kurniaeva bit her lip, her large eyes turning seductively, and said to Diako: "Muhammad is very cunning. He might have received the news that Masood was trapped and escaped in advance."

Of course, he escaped. The question is, where did he go? Diako looked at Kurniaeva, his face showing dissatisfaction.

Just as he was about to express his dissatisfaction to Kurniaeva, he saw his communication soldier rushing towards him.

"Report, Commander, the 682nd Motorized Infantry Regiment has sent a message. The guerrillas broke through their encirclement, left the Panjshir Valley, and entered Badakhshan Province," the communication soldier said.

"What?" Diako stood up immediately: "A motorized infantry regiment couldn't handle a few hundred guerrillas? Did the 108th Division grow up eating shit?"

"According to their reports, the Jalalabad guerrillas suddenly appeared, opened a gap, and rescued the Panjshir guerrillas," the communication soldier reported one bad news after another.

...

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