122: Chapter 122 Begins the Hunt for Bald Eagles

Africa, Niger, an abandoned mining area on the edge of a desert.

The night was pitch black, the moon provided no light, and there were only a few stars in the sky. It was a good day for murder and arson.

Several dilapidated pickup trucks were parked behind a sand dune. The bodies of the trucks were covered in dust; if you didn't look closely, you would never realize people were hiding there.

Falcon was crouching in the sand, wearing night vision goggles, holding a newly acquired AK12 assault rifle.

He was a retired Langya special forces soldier from back home, and now he was the captain of the security team in this region. He was accompanied by more than twenty brothers; half were core personnel from back home, and half were hired foreign mercenaries, divided into two groups. Group 1 was from back home, and Group 2 consisted of the recruited foreign mercenaries.

Nearby was the deputy captain, Cheetah. At this moment, Cheetah whispered from the side:

"Brother Ying, headquarters has issued an order. Proceed according to plan. The first target is the American ExxonMobil oil distribution station. Its defenses are weak, and the profits are substantial. The higher-ups said it's just for us to practice."

Falcon curled his lip in disdain. Through his night vision goggles, he saw the oil distribution station two kilometers away, brightly lit. Several American mercenaries were puffing on cigarettes, wandering around, and there were only two light machine guns at the entrance. The defense was very lax.

Falcon sighed to himself:

These Americans were so used to throwing their weight around in Africa that they never imagined anyone would dare to come knocking to slaughter them.

"Attention, brothers."

Falcon whispered into his headset:

"The boss has issued the order. We are not required to kill a specific number of people; the main goal is practice and to figure out the Americans' bottom line. Be quick, strike and withdraw!"

"Group 1, you are responsible for the assault and crowd control. Group 2, you are responsible for attracting fire from the front to create attack opportunities for Group 1!"

Cheetah grinned and whispered:

"Don't worry, Brother Ying. The equipment is all the hard stuff that just arrived from Russia—assault rifles, sniper rifles, grenades, everything is here. Plus, we have RPGs. Taking down this little dump is more than enough!"

Falcon nodded. He didn't think much of this little dump either, and immediately ordered:

"Action in three minutes. Snipers, get into position. Once the time is up, take out the guard tower first!"

"Received!"

The desert instantly went quiet, as if it were an uninhabited area.

Three minutes later.

"Bang."

A slight sniper rifle shot rang out.

The American mercenary on the distribution station's guard tower didn't even grunt before falling headfirst, his brains splattered everywhere.

"Enemy attack!"

The distribution station instantly exploded into chaos. Searchlights began scanning the nearby darkness, and the American mercenaries scrambled to grab their guns and rush out.

"Charge!"

Falcon gave a low shout and was the first to rush out from the sand dune. The pickup trucks started simultaneously, engines roaring.

"Da-da-da—da-da-da—"

The Russian-made assault rifles spat fire wildly, bullets raining down on all the American mercenaries trying to poke their heads out of the distribution station.

The foreign mercenaries of Group 2 followed the plan, shouting and charging from the front, moving in serpentine patterns to approach the distribution station.

"Boom! Boom!"

Two grenades were thrown directly into the courtyard, exploding in a flash of fire, with screams rising one after another.

"RPG! Blow up their warehouse!"

"Whoosh—Boom!"

The rocket-propelled grenade trailed smoke as it slammed into the oil storage warehouse. A huge fireball instantly soared into the sky, lighting up the night like day, and a wave of heat rushed toward them.

"Ah—! Help!"

The American mercenaries were ignited, rolling on the ground in pain, trying to extinguish the flames, but it was all in vain. Gunshots, explosions, crying, and calls for help were all mixed together at this moment.

Falcon led the brothers of Group 1, not wanting to get bogged down in a protracted battle. They quickly broke into the courtyard, advancing in tactical formation, every shot lethal, their coordination impeccable.

"One on the left!"

"Taken care of!"

"Behind the bunker on the right!"

"Done!"

In less than five minutes, the American mercenaries guarding the entrance were all wiped out.

Cheetah kicked open the office door. The American managers inside were trembling with their hands raised.

Cheetah glanced at the layout of the room, and the team members controlled the American managers inside; then, Cheetah stepped forward and blew open the safe in the corner, packing away all the cash, documents, and hard drives.

"Brother Ying, the oil distribution station has been taken! Twelve Americans are dead, six are captured, two mercenaries from Group 2 are injured, Group 1 has no casualties!"

Falcon checked the time and said:

"Clean up the battlefield. Set a fire and burn this place down. Leave no traces. Retreat in five minutes!"

"Yes, what about the captives?"

Falcon looked at him and said:

"Do we have any captives?"

Cheetah was stunned for a moment, then replied: "No, I didn't see any captives just now!"

Then he waved at the team members, and they all left the place. Before leaving, the team members accidentally threw the six moving corpses into the room and locked it up.

Then, to avoid causing harm to the surrounding environment, the team members specially found a barrel of gasoline that hadn't been affected and splashed it around.

Once the gasoline was splashed and a lighter was thrown.

"Boom—"

A huge fire soared into the sky, and the surrounding environment was completely purified.

At the same time, in Angola, Africa, at a rare metal mining area.

Another security team also took action.

The captain, Black Bear, was tall and also a veteran of Langya. He was holding a Russian-made heavy machine gun. Although he had a smile on his face, it looked somewhat creepy.

"Brothers, the boss gave us funds and equipped us with Russian weapons. This job must be done beautifully, otherwise, we won't be worthy of this trust!"

"Target: The rare metal mine controlled by American capital ahead. Get them, boys!"

"Boom, boom, boom—!"

RPGs were fired in succession, and the mine's perimeter wall was blown down.

Heavy machine guns began firing wildly, and the American mercenaries were suppressed so hard they couldn't even lift their heads.

The equipment, excavators, and transport vehicles in the mine were all rigged with remote-controlled bombs.

"Brothers, don't hold back, blow it all up for me!"

Black Bear roared.

Ten minutes later.

The mine had turned into ruins. The American mercenaries suffered heavy casualties, and those who surrendered knelt on the ground, not daring to lift their heads.

Black Bear glanced around and said lightly:

"Set the fire and retreat!"

Then, the captives, filled with despair, were pushed into a wooden house and locked inside.

Black Bear led his team away calmly, with a sea of fire behind them.

On the other side, Africa, Kenya, Mombasa Port.

The port freight forwarding company was also an American property.

In the night, several speedboats silently approached the shore. The security team crept up and silently eliminated the sentries.

"Control the dock! Blow up their warehouse!"

"Boom—!"

Containers, warehouses, and transport trucks were all blown into scrap metal.

The port was in chaos, with sirens and explosions mixed together.

Overnight.

Five countries in Africa.

Seven industries controlled by American capital.

Oil distribution stations, rare metal mines, port freight forwarding companies, etc.

All of them were wiped out in one go.

The flames raged across the land of Africa.

News spread everywhere.

Niger border, temporary safe house.

Falcon was using an encrypted satellite phone to talk to headquarters.

"Report, all seven targets in Africa have been cleared. No core personnel casualties on our side. Multiple American oil, mining, and port facilities have been destroyed. Mission successfully completed. All teams have retreated safely and are waiting for further instructions in the safe house!"

A steady voice came from the other side:

"Well done, you all did very well. Rest in place. Equipment and funds will continue to arrive. I will report this to the higher-ups immediately and wait for further instructions!"