166: Chapter 166 Decapitation Rocket Launcher! Ghost Squad Stealth!

"Let's perform a 'surgical operation'."

He Jun's voice echoed in the command post, his tone resolute and indisputable.

On the holographic sand table before him, the light points representing both enemy and friendly forces were interlocked, but one highlighted red area remained his greatest concern—that was the theoretical firing range coverage of the twelve long-range rocket launchers of the Sudan military.

"Pull up the files of all combat personnel in the First Company of the National Defense Force," He Jun said to Colonel Zhou Zheng beside him, "Screening criteria: experience in behind-enemy-lines infiltration, special reconnaissance, or similar high-risk missions, with a psychological evaluation rating of 'Excellent'."

Colonel Zhou Zheng immediately began operating his tactical tablet.

Hundreds of files were screened, and in the end, fewer than twenty names remained.

He Jun's gaze swept over them one by one.

"Mark Smith," he tapped on the first name, and detailed information popped up on the screen, "Former member of the US Army Delta Force, proficient in infiltration and demolition, psychological evaluation reports show that he becomes increasingly calm under extreme pressure. We want him."

Colonel Zhou Zheng nodded in approval: "Delta guys, ruthless and professional enough."

"Dmitry Ivanov," He Jun's finger slid to the next one, "Former Russian Alpha Group sniper, has a record of piercing a coin from two hundred meters away. We need a pair of eyes that can perform 'surgery' from two kilometers away."

"Falcon, former French Foreign Legion desert scout, real name unknown, can lurk in the desert for a week without being discovered. His experience is the key to the success of this infiltration."

"..."

Just like that, ten names were selected again from the elites; they were the dancers on the blade's edge within the entire First Company of the National Defense Force, warriors born for this kind of mission.

"I need them," He Jun transmitted the final list to Colonel Zhou Zheng, "I need to use them to form two top-tier special operations teams to completely erase those twelve rocket launchers from the Sudan war plan."

"Removing the firewood from under the cauldron is the best tactic." Colonel Zhou Zheng nodded in agreement, "What support do you need us to provide?"

"I need your intelligence support to help me further narrow down the area where the rocket launchers are deployed. Besides, I need to give them the best equipment."

Half an hour later, the ten selected soldiers gathered in front of the ammunition depot.

He Jun personally distributed the equipment to them.

In addition to the standard QBZ-191 rifle, everyone was additionally equipped with a silenced submachine gun and the latest four-eye panoramic night vision goggles.

Sniper Dmitry received the latest domestic 12.7mm high-precision sniper rifle, whose armor-piercing rounds could effectively deal with light armored targets.

And in everyone's backpack, besides food and water, several "big killers" were stuffed: a foldable micro reconnaissance drone, two kilograms of C4 plastic explosives and accompanying delay detonators, plus two QN-202 micro-missiles capable of "opening cans".

"Brothers!" He Jun looked at the ten firm faces painted with camouflage in front of him and said in a deep voice, "Your mission is not to fight a conventional war, but to hunt!"

He named the two teams "Ghost" and "Phantom" respectively.

"Your mission is to infiltrate behind enemy lines within the next forty-eight hours, move silently, and find the Sudan rocket artillery positions. Once discovered, do not alert them. Lie low and wait for the signal for the general offensive."

"When the Sudan ultimatum expires and their main force launches an attack, that is the moment for you to act! I want you to send those rocket launchers, along with the operators, to heaven as quickly as possible!"

"Any questions?"

"No!" Ten people roared in unison, their voices filled with irrepressible bloodlust and excitement.

For these born warriors, this kind of high-risk behind-enemy-lines hunting mission was far more exciting than passively taking hits while guarding positions.

That night, a waning moon hung in the sky, and it was pitch black in the desert.

After checking all their equipment, the two special operations teams, "Ghost" and "Phantom", slipped out of the "Great Wall" defense line under the cover of night, their figures blending into the darkness.

They did not take any vehicles, relying entirely on their legs, using sand dunes and rocks as cover, and infiltrated toward the most suspicious areas marked on the sand table.

After more than a dozen hours of forced marching, at dawn, the "Ghost" team arrived at the No. 1 scheduled reconnaissance point—a rocky highland overlooking a dried-up river valley.

This was a supply route leading to the border.

Mark Smith signaled, and the team members immediately dispersed to keep watch.

He took a palm-sized black box from his backpack, unfolded four rotors, and a beetle-sized micro drone quietly took off, flying silently into the distance.

On the screen of the tablet computer, the thermal imaging footage sent back by the drone clearly displayed the scene in the river valley.

Dozens of trucks, armored vehicles, and towed artillery formed a long dragon, slowly assembling toward the border.

Soldiers shuttled beside the convoy, and the infrared camera captured the dust they kicked up, showing patches of high-heat signal areas.

"What a big school of fish." The team's demolition expert smacked his lips, "It's a pity our target isn't these cannon fodder."

They needed to find the twelve most lethal "sharks"—self-propelled rocket launchers—within this complex "school of fish".

Such high-value targets would never appear swaggering on the main road.

"Falcon" lay on the edge of the rock, using high-powered binoculars to scan the distant hills and gullies inch by inch.

"Watch for those unusual camouflage nets, and those independent camps that are heavily guarded but far away from the main convoy." He said in a low voice.

While waiting, time became exceptionally long.

The drone had its batteries changed twice, and they analyzed several suspicious targets, but in the end, they were all ruled out.

Some were field kitchens, some were front-line command posts, but none were the rocket launchers they were looking for.

Just three hours before the Sudan ultimatum deadline, anxiety began to spread in the team, and the team member responsible for operating the drone suddenly made an "eh" sound.

"Mark, look here." He pointed to a corner of the screen, "In this area, the tire tracks are very deep, indicating that heavy vehicles have passed by, but there are only a few lonely camouflage nets on the ground, and the thermal signals have been deliberately suppressed."

Mark Smith leaned over upon hearing this, he zoomed in on the image and compared it repeatedly.

At this moment, sniper Dmitry also locked onto that area through the high-powered scope on his 12.7mm sniper rifle.

"I am observing," Dmitry's voice was without waves, "Something is moving under the camouflage net... wait, a soldier lifted a corner of the net and is smoking..."

There was silence in the team communication channel, and everyone's breathing paused.

"...I see it," Dmitry's breathing paused for a second, and when he spoke again, his speech accelerated, with an irrepressible intensity, "It's a launcher! I see the launch tubes! Repeat, I see the rocket launcher!"

"Zoom in! Risk it and zoom in!" Mark ordered the drone operator.

The drone lowered its altitude in response, rushing toward the target at the risk of being discovered.

A clear image came through: under the camouflage net, on the chassis of six heavy military trucks, there were rocket systems with honeycomb-like launch tubes!

There were also ammunition supply vehicles and radar command vehicles around.

This was a complete rocket artillery company!

At the same time, the "Phantom" team operating in another area also sent good news; they had also found the other six rocket launchers.

"Calling command, this is Ghost." Mark Smith steadied his breathing and connected to the encrypted communication, "We hit the jackpot. All targets have been discovered, coordinates..."