62: The worst

Suddenly, a familiar and piercing voice stood out among the wails, it was Ibn's desperate cry: "Platoon Leader, we can't get out."

Taleb hastily turned off the other channels and urgently asked: "Ibn, how are you?" But the only response was dead silence. Masoum's eyes were vacant, his hands tightly gripping the control panel, doing his best to avoid the surrounding explosions.

Taleb looked behind him. On Highway 80, the wreckage of destroyed tanks blocked the road, and subsequent tanks, unable to dodge in time, crashed into them one after another.

In the sky, A-10 Warthog attack planes circled like vultures, dropping countless cluster bombs, as if reveling in this bloody feast.

"Mommy, what's wrong?" the Little girl asked curiously, but her mother just trembled, unable to answer. Zhou Qing quickly covered her eyes and said in a hoarse voice: "It's okay, Xiao Ran, the uncles are just playing a game."

Their BH90 main battle tank, even the export version, possessed unparalleled horsepower, its speed in the sand no less than a car on an asphalt road.

Gradually, they moved away from the sight of the "vultures," as if the most dangerous moment had passed. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but the cruelty of this game was deeply imprinted on everyone's hearts.

After a moment of silence, various emotions surged like a tide.

"Bang!"

Masoum slammed his fist onto the control panel, letting out a painful roar.

"Damn it!"

Taleb didn't stop him, his gaze just grew heavier.

As Platoon Leader, his heart was equally tormented, no less than Masoum's.

The tank continued to move through the desert for over an hour. The map showed they were approaching the Iraq border.

"Mommy, when can we go home?"

The Little girl's lively voice broke the silence in the vehicle. She looked up at her mother, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Soon, baby."

Her mother gently stroked her head and comforted her softly.

As the Little girl's words fell, the tense atmosphere inside the compartment eased slightly. Taleb took over Masoum's position, allowing him to rest for a while.

"Platoon Leader, I heard you also experienced an air raid?"

Masoum asked in a low voice, his tone no longer as relaxed as before.

"Yes."

"How did you survive? Was it like today?"

Taleb's eyes changed slightly. Recalling the past, he smiled and said:

"That time was domestically, with air defense system support provided by our allies."

"That day, we shot down five enemy stealth fighters."

Masoum raised his head and looked at Taleb in surprise.

"Platoon Leader, this is the first time I've seen you tell a joke."

"Haha..."

Taleb laughed awkwardly and didn't respond.

The setting sun gradually descended. In a few more hours, it would be completely dark. Taleb reconfirmed the route. At their current speed, arriving at the Iraq border town of Saufwan before dark should not be a problem.

Just as he felt everything was under control, a few small black dots appeared on the monitor screen in front of the tank. As the camera zoomed in, these dots became clearer.

"Not good, they are enemy M1A1s!"

He counted the black dots and found there were at least a dozen.

He hadn't expected to encounter so many enemy tanks near the border.

Although their BH90 main battle tank had superior performance, facing such a large number of enemies, it still seemed powerless.

Unlike Great Britain's Challenger, which was like an iron turtle focused only on defense, our BH90 main battle tank could at most only simultaneously engage two M1A1s. If there were more, it would depend on driving skill and tactics.

Facing a situation like this, fighting alone against over a dozen tanks, was something he didn't even dare to think about. Even a calm person like him couldn't help but feel a little panicked at this moment.

The two sides were still far apart. Their current position was behind a small hill. If it weren't for the monitor screen, he wouldn't have discovered these tanks in advance at all.

He checked the map again. Those groups of A-10 attack planes would continue patrolling the sky, searching for remaining enemies. If they turned back, they would definitely run into these planes, which would be disastrous.

To get over the hill, both sides were open, and the enemy's position was even higher than theirs. Once they went over, they would be exposed.

Ahead were powerful enemies, and behind them there might be pursuers. As ground forces, the choice was obvious.

A clash between the two forces seemed inevitable. It seemed he was left with only the path forward. Taleb slowly pulled back the control stick, stopping the tank before the hill.

The vibration when the tank stopped woke up the resting crew members. "Platoon Leader, what happened?" someone asked.

Taleb didn't respond but walked towards Zhou Qing and his family, holding a pistol in his hand. Seeing this scene, Zhou Qing and his family felt a knot in their hearts.

"You... what do you want to do?" Zhou Qing quickly shielded his wife and daughter behind him and asked nervously.

Taleb didn't answer, he just slowly raised his hand.

"Platoon Leader? Platoon Leader?" This situation also confused Masoum, making him even wonder if the Platoon Leader had been provoked.

Zhou Qing closed his eyes, ready to sacrifice himself to protect his family. "Take it, get out of the vehicle," Taleb said in a low voice, his voice already hoarse.

"There's a group of enemy tanks ahead, we can't go around them."

"Take your belongings, if you still have any."

"The rest, you'll have to rely on yourselves."

Understanding the situation, Zhou Qing looked back at his wife and asked timidly: "Can we really not go around?"

"Beyond this hill is flat ground, we will become living targets."

"Then, then..."

"If we turn back now, we will definitely be discovered by enemy planes, and we won't be able to escape disaster either."

"If you don't stay with us, they might not detect your presence."

Zhou Qing accepted this cruel reality. With trembling hands, he took the gun Taleb handed him and helped his wife and daughter climb out of the hatch. As the hatch opened, their luggage outside had already turned to ash from the residual fire after the explosion. The family stood on the sand, lost and helpless.

Taleb leaned out and said to them:

"If no one rescues you by night, rest here for the night and set off when the morning is cooler."

He pointed in a direction: "Walk that way, and you should be able to reach Saufwan before noon."

Taleb hesitated, wanting to say more, but finally spoke: "I don't know why you came here."

"But if you can get back alive, it's best to return to your own country."

Zhou Qing bowed deeply to Taleb to express his gratitude:

"Thank you, we can't repay your kindness."

He had initially come here by chance, and later stayed because the income was considerable. Before the Gulf War, he could earn over a thousand US dollars per month in Iraq, whereas domestically he could only earn a few hundred RMB. After experiencing the war, he began to miss his hometown.