death of hope

Chapter 411 "Corporate Warrior" (322) Jealousy

Take the airdrop pod to the ground, tear open the line of defense, and destroy the enemy, which is what the Spartan heavy airborne soldiers are best at.

Whether it is the quality of equipment or the quality of soldiers, the opponent is crushed. The enemy dies and flees, and those who stay are all hard bones with a strong will to fight. The number of casualties on the attacking side is rising.

Two minesweeping vehicles were ambushed and destroyed by shoulder-fired rockets. The huge fireball of the ammunition exploded instantly engulfed the vehicle crew and nearby infantry. The ambush team was about to retreat after they succeeded, but they were shot by a string of 12.7mm large-caliber machine gun bullets. Beat bloody.

Without the assistance of minesweeping vehicles, demining by engineers was quite slow. At this time, the Delta raiding team had already captured the airport, and the heavy transport plane was able to land.

The first batch of armored units unloading the planes came to the front line without stopping, six "Tortoise" main battle tanks, and twelve "Capybara" large eight-wheeled amphibious armored personnel carriers.

Marcus Lynch did not intend to wait for the troops to build up. He ordered the troops to attack along the irrigation canals. The infantry stepped on the tracks of the tanks and called in air support when they encountered resistance.

The battle lasted all night. At dawn, a breeze smelling of gunpowder blew over the blood-stained golden wheat waves. The enemy's defense line had been compressed to a fairly narrow range. The precision-guided weapons and heavy weapons were all destroyed. The sound was the desperate resistance of the defenders.

The fertile black soil and the endless plains are full of arable land. On the surface, this planet looks like an agricultural colony, but in fact it has hidden secrets.

According to intelligence, arsenals and training institutions are hidden underground, which is the preparation of the Green Party faction for future corporate wars.

Another trench was captured, the corpses of the resisters were piled up, and those who surrendered lined up to drop their weapons and hand them over to the rear for guards. Mercenaries were not protected by the laws of war, and what awaited them would be detention and hard labor.

Many militants changed their clothes and wanted to sneak into the local village, waiting for the limelight to pass, or waiting for an opportunity to attack.

The elite in charge of the tough battle continued to move forward, and other troops began to sweep the occupied area, including the newly formed enterprise soldier Charlie (C) team. The commander ordered them to enter a village to eliminate hidden dangers and search for fish that slipped through the net.

The village was empty except for a few dogs barking at them, and the members of Team C followed the trail to the barn,

"Boom!" Corporal Comanche, the captain, kicked open the wooden door of the barn, and saw many farmers huddled together, trembling.

"Fellows! We are here to hunt down militants, please don't act rashly, so as not to cause misunderstanding!"

The thick soles of military boots stepped on the straw piled up in the farmhouse, making a rustling sound, the peasants looked at them in fear, some people peed their pants in fear, the peasant woman covered the mouth of the child, and the Comanche corporal enjoyed all this.

He is a man who lacks love. He was abandoned by his parents when he was a child. He grew up in the most chaotic and poor neighborhood in the Terra Federation. He earns a living by running errands and selling medicines for the local boss. underfoot.

Brave and ruthless, he fought his way out, finally entered a large company like McMillan, became a corporate warrior, and continued his life full of violence. He was very hungry, looking forward to the expansion of the war, and the opportunity to become famous.

"You! The one huddled in the corner! Stand up! Turn your head! Let me see your face!"

"I... I'm a farmer..."

The man stood up slowly with his hands raised, he looked like a farmer in his clothes,

Due to his childhood street experience, Comanche is very good at distinguishing honest people from street gangsters.

That person's eyes are very strange. Once a person who has killed someone knows how fragile the human body is, he will have an inexplicable confidence, which can be distinguished from the eyes.

This sounds absurd. His companions said that he was like a fortune teller. Comanche had already taken ten lives before he was 20 years old. He himself firmly believed in this point.

Sure enough, the judgment was right, when he saw a green corner sticking out from under the tattered gray padded jacket, it was the collar of the camouflage uniform, he smiled.

"Dude, don't pretend, your dialect is so bad, you're not a local."

The other party was stunned for a moment, and his face suddenly became ferocious. He grabbed the baby in the arms of a peasant woman, pulled out an M9 field dagger from his belt, pointed it at the baby's throat, and shouted:

"Don't force me!"

"My precious son! Give it back to me!"

The peasant couple rushed up to snatch it. The peasant woman was knocked unconscious by the man's elbow.

"You can't bully Lianjiazi, it's your fault." Corporal Comanche smiled as if he was watching a play:
"I'm not a cop, do you think taking hostages can work?"

"Whether it works or not...how will you know if you don't try it!"

"Look at the eyes of the fellow villagers, they all want to kill you."

"Ha! This group of farming contractors, I have been stationed here for a long time, they are all docile sheep! How dare they kill people!"

"That's not necessarily true." Corporal Comanche said meaningfully.

The sniper of Team C whispered: "Captain, the head has been aimed, as long as you give the order, the baby can be saved..."

"Charlie (C) Squad! No one shoots!" Comanche yelled.

Seeing hope, the other party softened his tone:

"This colleague, do a good job, just pretend you didn't see me, how about it?"

"Master, I joined McMillan. It's the first time I go on a mission. It's inevitable that I will be looked down upon when I go back empty-handed. I can only borrow my brother's head."

"What?! Damn! They're all out to make a living! There's no need to do such a thing!"

"It doesn't make sense to kill a deserter without a gun, wait... I have it!" Comanche slapped his thigh, got an idea, and deliberately shot a few times at the opponent's head.

The other party was terrified, and stabbed the baby to death in a panic. The warm blood flowed down the elbow to the straw stack.
The baby's parents immediately began to cry, rushing forward to fight desperately. They were no match for elite mercenaries without training, and turned into ghosts under the knife.

"village head!"

Witnessing such a tragedy, several villagers gathered around cursing, and after being stabbed a few times, they had to retreat covering their wounds.

"You bumpkin! Get out of the way!" The red-eyed mercenary picked up a little girl and put a dagger on her neck: "Even if I die, I won't do hard labor!"

"Bastard!" the C-team machine gunner yelled angrily; "Captain! Let me shoot! Kill this infanticide!"

"Don't worry, I have better ideas, little ones, pull out your jungle wreckers and throw them in front of the villagers."

"Captain? You are?"

The Comanche corporal did not answer, pulled out his wrecker knife, threw it on the ground, and looked at his men with cold eyes.

The members of Team C were very afraid of this ruthless captain who was born in the underworld, so they followed suit. Six shiny "Nepal dog-leg wrecker knives" were piled up in one place, and some villagers wanted to pick them up. The gun in his hand retracted again.

"Don't hesitate, folks, don't you want to avenge the village chief's family? Look, that guy has kidnapped another girl from another family. Our marksmanship skills are too weak to dare to shoot. You have to rescue yourself."

"Little Alice...don't be afraid, mom is here to save you..." A short and fat peasant woman picked up the dog's leg knife first, and other villagers also took action.

"What are you doing! Don't come here!"

Seeing the angry villagers surrounding him with a sharp weapon in hand, the mercenary was panicked and backed away again and again. The girl bit him on the arm and escaped successfully.

The unscrupulous villagers rushed forward, blood splattered in an instant, and the killing intent was violent. No matter how exquisite their skills were, they couldn't stand the beating.

An old man walked over tremblingly, poking the brains inside the cracked skull with a walking stick.

The members of Team C turned their heads away in disgust, but their captain, Corporal Comanche, seemed quite excited.

"Wow, you're so ruthless, who is that old man?"

"That's the village head and his father." A villager told him.

"Fellows, you're doing well."

The Comanche corporal walked past the blood-stained villagers as if nothing had happened, found the mercenary's ID from the sticky mess on the ground, and picked it up with a rifle bayonet.

"The task is complete, let's call it a day."

When leaving the village, some team members complained softly, saying that the captain was mentally ill.

Comanche turned around suddenly: "I have very sharp ears." The man shut up quickly in fright.

Returning to the front line in an armored vehicle, they saw that McMillan's main force was cleaning the battlefield, and the striker was temporarily resting in the temporary camp. The members of Team C chatted in a hurry:

"Hey! Look! That big guy in power armor! Like a giant!"

"God, that guy looks terrible. I would believe that he grew up eating children."

"Don't judge people by their appearance, that's our trump card. What is the name of the commander of this operation?"

"Horse... Matthew? Lin Zeman?"

"It seems to be called that name."

"A bunch of idiots!" the Comanche corporal cursed, "That's Marcus Lynch!"

"Don't be angry, Captain, we're just joking."

"Squad C, rest for a quarter of an hour, eat and drink, and wait for orders from the headquarters."

After dismissing his teammates, Corporal Comanche walked closer to the temporary command post, his eyes full of jealousy and unwillingness.

Several pretty field nurses lined up to get the commander's signature, but Captain Lynch refused impatiently.

"What are you pretending to be big 13! What kind of spectrum are you showing off! What the hell!"

Comanche cursed in a low voice, as if he had overturned the jar of vinegar in his heart, it was so sour:
(Why... why can that guy sit in the tent and yell and drink, and someone delivers hot pizza to his team, and I can only squat in the crop field and eat compressed biscuits!

Why let this ugly man with a scar face lead the team? I am smarter and more ruthless than him!More qualified to be a commander!Is it because I joined the job late?
Why is it that his teammates are all leaders in the industry, but I have to lead a group of rookies... That guy was just a small officer when he was in the army, just a captain and company commander...

Why did the boss give him such a big face!

I'm very angry... What the hell!It must be vented! )
Comanche opened the zipper, pissed in the direction of the commander's tent, and whistled at the farm girl who was watching the fun by the field;

"Hey! Little girl! Look at my father's dick!"

"Shameless!" The peasant girl blushed and ran away.
Comanche laughed, feeling better.

(End of this chapter)