Chapter 99

"Wrong person," the bearded man said to the other side, "I'm not Khalid, I'm Mushaf, and I'm from Kandahar."

"Hmph, Khalid, save those words for when you get back to Kabul," the squad leader said. He picked up the medical kit nearby and pulled out a pistol from its compartment: "Kandahar? What's this pistol about?"

The bearded man's face instantly changed, and he tried to resist, but his arms were already firmly held down by the Soviet soldiers. Another soldier came up and hit the bearded man's back with the butt of his gun. The bearded man felt a sharp pain in his back, and a mouthful of blood spurted out.

"Move!" the squad leader said.

The bearded man was escorted out of the room and onto the car.

This was a very smooth capture. The squad leader came out of the house and followed the car, but he saw several Afghan residents slowly gathering around.

"They took Dr. Mushaf!" one Afghan resident shouted.

"What did Dr. Mushaf do wrong? Why are they taking him?" another Afghan resident shouted.

"Release Dr. Mushaf!" another voice called out.

The crowd slowly gathered.

The Soviets could only control the major cities in Afghanistan. In remote areas like the Panjshir region, the people were still simple and fierce. In the past, when the residents of Astana were sick, they could only endure it, and if it was really unbearable, they would go to other places to find a doctor. When Dr. Mushaf came here, he helped them with their illnesses and only charged a small fee. They were very grateful to Dr. Mushaf. Now, seeing these fierce Soviet soldiers take Dr. Mushaf, they, who already had some resentment towards the Soviets, spontaneously stood in front of the truck and shouted at the Soviets.

"He is our prisoner, he escaped from the hospital in Kabul," the Soviet squad leader shouted. "Move aside immediately, or you will be accomplices to a traitor!"

The squad leader looked at the increasing number of residents and felt a growing unease.

"Dr. Mushaf is not a criminal, release him!" someone in the crowd shouted loudly.

Then, everyone else joined in: "Dr. Mushaf is not a criminal, release him!"

Khalid's eyes were moist. These villagers were very sincere. He had only been here for a few months, but he had already formed a deep bond with them. Now, they were risking being shot by the Soviets to support him.

"If you don't move, you are guerrillas!" the Soviet squad leader shouted. He raised his RPK machine gun and fired into the air.

"Rat-tat-tat..." The gunshots were meant to scare the residents, but unexpectedly, the residents did not retreat; instead, they glared at him fiercely.

"Russian devils, get out of Afghanistan!" a voice suddenly called out.

Hearing this, the Soviet squad leader's face changed. He looked at the crowd, trying to find who had shouted.

"Russian devils, get out of Afghanistan!" more people joined in.

"Drive!" the Soviet squad leader shouted. He leaned out of the driver's side and pointed his gun forward, ready to run over anyone who dared to block the way or shout.

"Vroom, vroom." The driver stepped on the gas, and the off-road truck roared and charged forward.

The crowd immediately scattered, making a path. The Soviet squad leader felt somewhat triumphant, thinking these Afghans were afraid of death.

The vehicle continued forward, but before it had gone five meters, the truck began to tilt.

The squad leader looked back and saw countless Afghans gathered on one side of the truck, running alongside it and lifting it up, actually lifting the truck.

Oh no!

When one side was lifted, the driver revved the engine, but only the wheels on that side were spinning, while the wheels on the other side were not moving.

"One, two, three." The Afghans shouted, and more people joined in, lifting the several-ton truck with their bare hands, raising it higher and higher, ready to flip it over.

The Soviet squad leader panicked, leaning halfway out of the cab and raising his RPK machine gun, ready to fire at the people lifting the truck. These people were now fully rioting and needed to be suppressed!

"Bang." Just as the Soviet squad leader was about to pull the trigger, a clear sound came from a distance, and a blood hole appeared in his head, his body slumping over the door.

The driver on the other side was startled, trying to grab the AK-74 rifle next to him, but another bullet came, and his hand went limp, falling onto the steering wheel.

"Boom." The truck was pushed 90 degrees and flipped over. The rear cargo area had a canopy, and several Soviet soldiers climbed out from behind it, dazed from the sudden flip.

As soon as they came out, their guns were taken away, and they felt countless punches and kicks on their bodies. They could only cover their heads and scream.

"Dr. Khalid!" Two Afghans helped Mushaf out of the truck, leaving the chaotic scene and heading deeper into the streets of Astana.

"Who are you?" Dr. Khalid asked.

"We are guerrillas, here to pick you up," Muhamed said. "One of our guerrillas is seriously injured and needs surgery."

Everything that had just happened was planned by Muhamed. When he saw the Soviet military vehicle parked at the door, he knew something was wrong.

If he had immediately opened fire, he might not have saved Khalid and could have even gotten him killed in the crossfire. So, Muhamed mobilized the crowd.

The power of the people is endless. In this situation, the Soviets would not dare to carry out a large-scale massacre. Muhamed shouted in the crowd, guiding them to confront the Soviet military vehicle. Khalid was already loved by the people here, and seeing him being taken away, they immediately became angry.

At the same time, Muhamed had Khawaja hide in the distance, ready to take out the Soviets with precise sniper shots if they made any moves.

Now, they had successfully saved Khalid.

Hearing Muhamed's words, Khalid immediately said, "Where?"

Khalid had long hoped to join the guerrillas and help them. In Kabul, he was an intern doctor and had seen the Soviets' atrocities, which he deeply resented. However, as a doctor, he could not take up arms. After making contact with the Crescent Moon Society, he decided to come to the mountains to help the guerrillas.

The medical kit, which was taken by Osama during the rescue, was now on his back, and they were rushing back to save Faisal.

"In the northern mountains," Muhamed said. "We need to hurry; he has been hit by over a dozen shrapnel pieces and can't hold on much longer."

"Okay," Khalid said, feeling a bit excited. He had finally met the guerrillas. When he was captured by the Soviets, he thought he would never be able to realize his ideals.

Just as they took a few steps, they saw two men in brown government military uniforms appear at the street corner.

Oh no! Muhamed instantly raised his gun. This was the only way out, and they had to pass through. In a narrow encounter, the brave one wins!

"Don't shoot," Osama quickly said. "They are from the service camp."

These two government soldiers were not there by chance; they were waiting for Osama.

As soon as they appeared, they saw Muhamed raise his gun and were startled. If Muhamed had fired, it would have been a misfire.

Fortunately, Muhamed heard Osama's words and lowered his gun. He trusted Osama, and these two men showed no hostility.

"Abd, Farabi," Osama called to them.

"Nice to see you," the two men said to Osama, smiling.

Abd held a box and said, "It's full of medicine, hoping Dr. Khalid can use it."

"The way ahead is very safe; everyone is maintaining order during the unrest," Farabi said.

"This is Muhamed, the hero I follow, who fights the Soviets," Osama proudly introduced them.

"Muhamed, we greatly admire your name. If it weren't for the service camp, we would join you in fighting the Soviets," Abd said.

The service camp had people in the government army, Muhamed remembered. With Osama's support, Dana had already established an intelligence agency in Jalalabad, and Osama's service camp had also transformed into an intelligence agency.

"Make sure our residents are safe," Muhamed said to the two men. The unrest was initiated by Muhamed, and these were innocent civilians who could not be harmed by the Soviets.

"Don't worry, most of the government army only follows half of the Soviet orders. Many of the soldiers here are from this area and won't harm their own people," Abd said. "We are now doing ideological work to encourage the government army to revolt."

Muhamed smiled, "May Allah guide them to the right path."

Time was short, and they only exchanged a few words. Khawaja followed behind, and they ran out of Astana together. (To be continued)

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