106: Head-on confrontation

Dudakov was somewhat surprised: "Why didn't I hear anything?"

"Their actions were extremely covert, the sentries disappeared one by one without a sound."

"Immediately fire signal flares, illuminate every inch of the area, and find these invaders!"

The Guard Captain immediately carried out the order and pleaded: "Please allow me to escort you away, it is very dangerous here."

Dudakov said firmly: "I am not leaving. As a national leader, wouldn't it be dereliction of duty to leave my post in a time of crisis?"

Just as he was speaking, the entire building suddenly plunged into darkness, clearly due to a power outage.

Following closely, dozens of signal flares ascended, tearing through the night sky like daytime. However, a helicopter in the distance, prepared for emergency evacuation, suddenly exploded, turning into a fireball.

As the flares lit up, dense gunfire finally erupted from within the building. In the office, the Guard Captain's forehead was already covered in sweat; he knew that a one-sided massacre was unfolding outside.

The effect of the flares was brief, and soon, the courtyard, deprived of electrical support, plunged into darkness once again.

The guards no longer dared to easily use lighting methods, as the enemy was clearly equipped with precise snipers. Every time someone tried to fire a flare, they would be shot dead almost simultaneously.

Without using flares, the guards completely lost the ability to resist. The invaders seemed able to move freely in the dark; no matter how the guards concealed themselves, they could be found one by one. In this situation, waiting for reinforcements seemed to have become a luxury.

"Isayev Zaur, are you there?"

There was silence in the walkie-talkie; no one responded to the Guard Captain's call. Fear, like an invisible hand, gripped his heart tightly. He knew this meant the outer perimeter had been breached.

"Continue to fire flares, report the enemy's position immediately if found, we must prepare for a counterattack."

"Teams One, Three, and Four, retreat to the office building and hold the position."

"Close all doors and windows tightly, ensure no one can break in! The primary mission is to protect the President's safety."

The Guard Captain issued new orders, and the teams began to execute defensive deployments.

"Understood!"

"Received!"

"Yes, sir!"

Responses came through the walkie-talkie, but one of the voices sounded a little strange.

"Stop the futile resistance, hand over President Dudakaev, and we can give you a way out."

This voice came from the walkie-talkie, sending a chill down the Guard Captain's spine. He looked at President Dudakaev beside him.

Dudakov took the walkie-talkie and asked: "Who are you?"

The other party replied: "Intelligence Station."

At this moment, the voice on the other end of the walkie-talkie carried a hint of threat, and the Guard Captain knew in his heart that the situation was already extremely critical.

The group of subordinates following behind that person all showed surprised expressions; it was clear they hadn't expected this situation. Indeed, there wasn't a single ordinary person by the side of the madman Harvey.

On the other end of the walkie-talkie, Dudakov's face became even gloomier. Although he was mentally prepared, the audacity of the Intelligence Station still shocked him.

"You people from the United States are truly crazy!" Dudakov roared.

The other party just let out a cold laugh over the radio, "When I catch you, let's see if you can still speak so loudly then."

Dudakov didn't want to argue with this madman any further. After handing the walkie-talkie to the Captain, he asked: "How many people do we have left?"

The Captain replied: "Everyone has retreated into the building. Including myself, there are only two hundred and twenty-six soldiers left."

Although the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria is a small country, the number of guards at the building usually remained around five hundred and had never decreased due to sick leave or other reasons. However, at this moment, more than half had been lost. If the defensive order hadn't been issued in time, there would have been even more casualties.

Realizing that the walkie-talkie channel was being monitored, the Captain quickly switched to an encrypted channel and called out: "Sixth Team, when can the power system be restored?"

The response was a hurried voice: "Requesting support, the cables are damaged, we are trying to start the backup generator, but the basement has been controlled by the enemy and is under attack!"

The Captain immediately dispatched the Fifth Team to reinforce. If they could regain control of the power system, the situation might improve. Gunfire was constant outside; although the flares had some effect, they also caused more casualties.

A distress signal had been sent out long ago, but no reinforcements had arrived yet. Even if the Commander-in-Chief had left with the main force, the Vice President should have his own guard unit. Why were they nowhere to be seen?

"Haven't the reinforcements arrived yet?" President Dudakov suddenly asked.

Clearly, he had also noticed something was wrong.

"No!" A trace of worry flashed in President Dudakov's eyes, and he sighed: "You go back and handle your affairs, you don't need to stay here with me. After all, there's no turning back now."

"Mr. President, please allow me to escort you to the safe room!" the Guard Captain said hurriedly.

There was a safe room in the building used to protect the President; this was the last line of defense. Once this was breached, it meant the defense line was close to collapsing.

"Hey! We can talk about the safe room when the outside is completely out of control. Although I am old, I am not yet afraid of death!" Dudakov said.

"Yes, Mr. President." The Guard Captain reluctantly accepted the order, exited the room, and closed the door.

Silence once again enveloped the entire office, leaving only Dudakov standing alone by the desk, his expression solemn.

"Old friend, have you really betrayed me?"

"The Chechen Republic of Ichkeria only has this path to take..."

Stroking the gun in his hand, Dudakov recalled the days of his youth. At that time, he was full of passion, and following closely behind him was the current Vice President.

Gunfire in the inner courtyard was constant, almost everywhere. The Guard Captain's contraction tactic began to show results.

The guards in the inner courtyard formed tight squads, supporting each other. Although the night obscured their vision, they were linked together like an iron chain, gradually gaining the ability to counterattack.

Although this counterattack seemed powerless, in the darkness, they were like helpless lambs, completely defenseless against opponents equipped with night vision.

The good news the Guard Captain longed for was slow to arrive; all that came were continuous wails and despair.

At this moment, he felt like a large ship sailing in a storm, with crew members constantly falling overboard, and he himself facing the fate of sinking.

"Captain, we are under attack! Damn it, if you have the guts, face us head-on..."

"Salah Gaytamirov! You cowards who only know how to hide, come out and fight to the death!"

Sporadic gunfire came from the communicator, but it quickly cut off abruptly, as if suddenly silenced.

The Guard Captain clenched his fists tightly, his fingernails digging into his palms, drawing blood. But he seemed oblivious, his face showing only despair and numbness.