It was a glorious and difficult task, and you were chosen because I believed in your loyalty, your talents, your wit, and, of course, a little luck - Fruhav did not say this, it was all nonsense; And in fact, relying only on his brain, the commander could not come up with such a statement. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 But there was such an emotion in his eyes when he looked at Nguyen Phuc Shou...... Console.

But comfort only took up a small part of the commander's eyes, and the rest were stern warnings, unequivocal threats: "If you refuse to carry out my orders, I will shoot you immediately." ”

Ruan Phuc Shou turned his head mechanically, and his gaze slowly swept over the mercenary. They looked at him in the same way as their commander, and some of the mercenaries quietly turned their guns to him, with a palpable malice.

His body shuddered slightly. "I've made a mistake." He began to regret the slogan he shouted "Vietnamese don't fight Vietnamese" during the last rescue mission, "Now it seems that another one is going to be committed." ”

Either way, he could only make a cross on his chest, take the key to the gate from Fruhoff, and leave the queue and slowly walk towards the gate, which was being violently attacked by the rebels.

"Ready!" The commander shouted, and the mercenaries raised their weapons.

Nguyen Phuc Tho was still walking slowly. He hoped that the road would never be finished, but in reality, it would soon be over. The gate was already close at hand, and the rebels who were still banging on the gate stopped and turned their guns on the Nationalist soldier who was walking - thankfully, they were confused and trying to figure out what he was trying to do, otherwise the bullets would have swallowed him up long ago.

"God forbid." Nguyen Phuc Tho prayed one last time, then raised his hands above his head and shouted, "Don't shoot, brothers, don't shoot." I'm here to surrender. ”

The rebels all looked at him, but none of them spoke, just lowered their guns slightly. Then he cried out, "I have the key to the gate." To prove the truth of this, he revealed the key in his right hand.

It worked, the muzzle of the gun was lowered and some rebels beckoned to him. "Open the door, hurry!"

Nguyen Phuc Tho breathed a sigh of relief, sped up a little as requested, and said louder: "The Americans have run out of bullets. Also, your accomplices are robbing the barracks of the Americans in the back...... Oh. He stopped abruptly, feeling that he was talking too much.

However, none of the rebels paid attention to what he said, and there was only one thought left in their minds, which was to immediately kill all the Americans who were no longer bullets through the barbed wire; They clung to the iron door like prisoners in a prison, shook it vigorously, screamed and urged in a mess, and made a perfect interpretation of "can't wait" with practical actions.

"Open the door, open the door!" Amid the hysterical shouts, Nguyen Phuc Tho quickly unlocked the door and jumped aside with a speed that even he was surprised by; At that moment, the rebels slammed open the door and rushed in.

"The Vietnamese are in!" A mercenary was yelling.

"Aim at the target, but only wait for my command to open fire!" Fruhauff glanced at his soldiers, then fixed his gaze on the rebels at the front, estimating the rapidly closing distance between the two sides; At the same time, he had to constantly alert all the soldiers who were nervous, had their fingers on the trigger and were about to fire involuntarily. "Don't fire, don't fire, it's not ...... now"

The rebels are getting closer. A hundred yards more...... Seventy yards...... Fifty yards...... Twenty yards!

Now is the time!

"Fire!" Fruhauff shouted.

Messy but a sign of danger the gunfire rang out again. Mercenaries, soldiers of the National Army, everyone opened fire. At such a close distance, and they were running fast, the rebels could not react in time, and the bullets hit the front row completely and unreservedly, sending them to another world. And as the men pounced forward, the machine guns ended their silence.

Accompanied by a dull and continuous sound of gunfire, a dense stream of bullets shot out from both sides of the road, huddled together and a large gap immediately appeared in the forward rushing current. But it was only by inertia that the rebels continued to rush up, seemingly endlessly, and then in a short time they joined the accumulation of corpses on the ground.

Now, the open gate has become an open gate to hell, which has already consumed hundreds of lives, and many more will be consumed. It was a new round of slaughter, and Thomas's trap did what he expected.

"It worked." The squad commander exclaimed excitedly.

"Rejoice in a moment, Mr. Thomas, now is not the time." Fruhav glanced at him, turned to the mercenaries of the mortar detachment at the rear of the line and shouted: "Give the Vietnamese monkeys a few shells to taste." ”

"It's too close, Commander, they're within our minimum range." The detachment leader of the mortar detachment replied.

"Then throw it away with your hands."

"It's too far away." The detachment leader muttered - no one could drop a shell from a sixty-millimeter mortar dozens of yards away. In the end, however, he decided to carry out Fruhoff's orders. "You all hear that," he said to the gunners, "and get started." ”

"But how?" Someone asked.

The detachment leader can't answer this question, but someone can. "I know how to do it." D-Vigion came with his interpreter—he had finally decided to find something for himself to do—and the lieutenant picked up a cannonball and stepped back some distance. "Run first." He started running, and then threw the cannonballs out. "Then drop the bomb."

The mercenary's eyes were always on the shells. They watched as it left the lieutenant's grasp, arcing through the air for some distance, before landing among a few rebels who were in the middle of a gap in machine-gun fire while lying on the ground dodging the rifleman's bullets.

But the shell did not explode - the rebels fled in a hurry, but were killed by bullets as soon as they got up.

"What's going on?" Lieutenant Dwigian was the first to call.

"You didn't open the insurance." The detachment leader said, grabbing a cannonball as well. "It should be done." He unfastened the fuse of the shell, then slammed it on the mortar's sitting, and finally threw it out, imitating the lieutenant's movements.

He threw farther than Dvigian, and the shell exploded normally.

Several gunners cheered, jumping and jumping, but the detachment leader pulled them back into place. "Do as I did, now!"

They all took action, imitating the movements of the detachment commander and throwing shells at the rebels one after another. The explosions continued to make the mercenaries more and more excited, and in order to increase the distance they could throw, they continued to extend the run-up time, and some even rushed in front of the National Army soldiers to let the shells out of their hands - in fact, if someone had not stopped them, they would have run farther.

Explosions, bullets, ruthless enemies, and a powerful thrust from the rear make the rebels realize they've fallen into a terrible trap. Keep going, and they will die; However, no one can stop, because the rebels in the rear are still surging forward, pushing those who stand in their way to death, and then they themselves will follow in their footsteps. Some of them turned into narrow alleys to avoid attacks, but they fell into the muzzle of the mercenaries, and the fate was the same.

In the trap prepared by the mercenaries, these rebels seem to be able to do nothing, nothing. But no one wants to wait for death. They screamed, resisting anything that would push them to their deaths, only to intensify the already pervasive hysteria.

Confusion.

Despair.

Depressed fear.

All this commotion came into view of Fruhauff, and he was satisfied. After waiting a little longer, he felt it was time to put an end to it.

"Get on the bayonet!" The commander pointed his right hand forward, "Marines, forward!" ”

But only the soldiers of the National Army fully carried out this order - only if they had received such training, flattened their rifles with good bayonets, and then marched slowly with neat steps - mercenaries would not do so. Naturally, they leaned to the sides of the road, clinging to their houses, shooting as they went, covering both the other mercenaries and their stupid allies.

Slowly but surely, this small mixed force approached their opponents, shooting them, but it was the shining bayonets that finally broke the rebels.

Seeing the enemy become more and more merely themselves, these people have lost even the last bit of will to fight. Some of the rebels abandoned their weapons and tried to surrender to the enemy, but they were soon turned into new corpses - no mercy, no mercy, neither mercenaries nor soldiers of the National Army had any intention of capturing prisoners of war; Others turned around and tried to escape the trap, only to add to the already chaotic situation, with everyone crammed into a crowd in front of the gate, and no one could escape.

What awaits them is death.

The Yellow Flower Scout stood where he had been from the beginning, motionless, watching his subordinates who were being wiped out. He lost, and though he still had half of his men not on the battlefield, it made no sense for the whole battle; He lost, the Americans won, and this is the result.

An unexpected result.

He didn't know what he had done wrong. He's always been patient, he's always been cautious, he's always been smart, he's always been determined. He mobilized all the military forces that could be mobilized, made elaborate arrangements, bought a third of the soldiers of the National Army, and he should have been able to achieve victory. But now he had to swallow a bitter fruit that was hard to swallow.

Now, Huang Huatan is full of hatred for Americans. A childish, uncontrolled hatred. He had admired them before—for no reason, just an inexplicable appreciation.

But now he hates them.

When the time is ripe again, he will take revenge on the Americans in the most violent way. Of course, he can do that, as long as he gets a little support, a little help......

A leader ran towards him. "The people we sent to copy the back of the Americans ran away after grabbing something. Everyone ran away, and not a single one was left. ”

"What do we do now?" All the leaders looked at the Yellow Flower Detective with obvious anger - this matter must not be left as it is, someone needs to be punished severely; But before that can be done, the battle must end.

By the only way to end.

"Let's withdraw." After speaking, Huang Huatan turned around and left along the route he had come, without glancing at the strategic village and the subordinates who were still trapped inside. (To be continued, if you want to know what will happen next, please log in to the www.qidian.com, more chapters, support the author, support genuine reading!) (To be continued.) )