Chapter 28 Attacked on the Way

At 4:23 AM, the convoy drove 15 kilometers out of the base.

Zhao Gang sat in the passenger seat of the second vehicle, holding the special transport case in his arms.

Outside the window, it was pitch black; only the headlights illuminated the winding mountain road ahead.

The driver was a veteran, driving very steadily at a speed of 40, neither fast nor slow.

A voice came from the lead vehicle over the walkie-talkie: "Number Two, Number Two, the road ahead is clear, visibility is good, over."

"Number Two received," Zhao Gang said, pressing the talk button. "Stay alert, watch the mountainsides on both sides, over."

He glanced at the rearview mirror.

The third vehicle was about 500 meters behind, its headlights flickering in and out of sight.

Further back, the fourth vehicle had not yet come into view—that was the rear vehicle, trailing by two kilometers, responsible for covering the rear.

Everything was proceeding according to plan.

But Zhao Gang's brows remained furrowed.

The mysterious figure that had appeared at the bus station kept him on edge.

Although the person sent to track them reported that the target had boarded a bus to the provincial capital without any abnormalities, he still felt something was off.

It was too coincidental.

At 4:45 AM, the convoy drove into a section of the canyon.

To the left was a steep mountain, and to the right was a cliff over a dozen meters deep. The road was only two lanes wide, and even passing another vehicle required extreme caution.

This was the most dangerous part of the entire route, and the section Zhao Gang was most worried about.

"Attention all vehicles," he picked up the walkie-talkie, "entering the canyon section, maintain distance, stay alert, over."

The lead vehicle replied: "Received."

The three vehicles drove into the canyon one by one.

The headlights illuminated the rock walls on both sides, and the craggy stones looked exceptionally menacing in the light.

At 4:53 AM.

Suddenly, an urgent voice came from the lead vehicle over the walkie-talkie: "Number Two, Number Two! There's a situation ahead!"

Zhao Gang's body instantly tensed: "What situation?"

"A truck is blocking the middle of the road with its hazard lights on; it looks like an accident! Someone is standing on the side of the road waving!"

Zhao Gang's pupils constricted slightly.

An accident? At this time? In this location?

"Lead vehicle, slow down, do not stop, approach slowly to observe," he ordered. "All vehicles, get ready, there might be trouble."

He turned his head to look at the driver: "Slow down, keep your distance."

The driver nodded and lifted his foot off the accelerator.

The lead vehicle slowly approached the truck blocking the middle of the road.

It was an old Dongfeng truck with its front smashed into the mountain on the left, its rear swung out, almost completely blocking the road.

A man was standing on the side of the road, waving vigorously and shouting something.

"Number Two," the voice from the lead vehicle came through, "it looks like a single-vehicle accident. The driver is fine, but the truck won't move."

Zhao Gang stared ahead, his gaze sharp as a blade.

The man waving was wearing a dirty cotton-padded jacket and looked very ordinary.

But his movements—they were too exaggerated.

A normal person in a deep mountain forest after a car accident would first react by calling for help, not by standing on the side of the road waving their hands.

Besides, at this time, on this road, where would other cars come from?

"Something's wrong," Zhao Gang said. "Lead vehicle, do not stop, continue moving slowly, force them to the side of the road. Everyone, prepare for combat."

As soon as he finished speaking, shots rang out.

Not from the front, but from the hillside on the right.

Bullets struck the hood of the lead vehicle, sending up a spray of sparks.

The driver of the lead vehicle jerked the steering wheel, causing the front of the car to slam into the mountain on the left, and the airbag instantly deployed.

"It's an ambush!" Zhao Gang roared. "Everyone, get out of the vehicle and use them for cover to fight back!"

He kicked open the car door and rolled out of the vehicle, clutching the transport case.

Bullets whizzed past his ears and struck the car door, emitting a harsh metallic clanging sound.

The driver also got out, and the two of them hid behind the vehicle.

Zhao Gang shoved the transport case into the driver's hands: "Hold this, stay hidden, don't move!"

He drew his pistol from his waist and peeked out.

On the hillside, at least five or six figures were moving.

They were wearing dark clothes, their faces covered, holding guns.

The firepower was intense, pinning down the people at the lead vehicle so they couldn't lift their heads.

Even worse, several more people rushed out from behind the "accident" truck.

They headed straight for the lead vehicle, clearly intending to eliminate the threat in front first.

Zhao Gang's mind raced.

Pincer attack. At least ten opponents. Firepower suppression. Clear objectives.

This was premeditated.

"All personnel, listen up!" he bellowed. "Number Three vehicle personnel, support the lead vehicle! Number Two vehicle personnel, follow me to suppress the hillside! Rear vehicle, advance at full speed and flank from the rear!"

He leaned out and fired three shots at the dark figures on the hillside.

One figure swayed and fell.

"You hit him!" the driver next to him shouted excitedly.

Zhao Gang didn't speak; he changed magazines and continued firing.

The battle lasted for five minutes.

In those five minutes, bullets flew everywhere and shouts shook the air.

The people from the third vehicle rushed up, met with those from the lead vehicle, and drove back the people who had rushed out from behind the truck.

The rear vehicle arrived from behind and managed to intercept two attackers trying to circle around.

Zhao Gang kept shooting.

His marksmanship was extremely accurate; every shot kept the enemy pinned down.

The firepower on the hillside gradually weakened.

Then, he saw a figure rush down from the hillside, heading straight in his direction.

The person was holding a grenade in their hand.

Zhao Gang's pupils contracted sharply.

He glanced at the driver behind him—the young man was holding the transport case, curled up behind the vehicle, his face filled with terror.

His position was right within the lethal range of the grenade.

There was no time to hesitate.

Zhao Gang stood up and charged toward the person.

"Captain Zhao!" the driver shouted from behind.

Zhao Gang didn't look back.

Like a cheetah, he sprinted through the hail of bullets.

The person had already pulled the pin of the grenade and was about to throw it.

Zhao Gang lunged at them.

He grabbed the person's wrist and used all his strength to lift it upward.

The grenade slipped from their hand, arced through the air, and fell into the cliff nearby.

"Boom!"

The grenade exploded below the cliff, and the shockwave surged up, causing both of them to lose their footing.

The attacker struggled, trying to draw a knife, but Zhao Gang smashed a fist into his face, then another, and another.

The man went limp.

Zhao Gang stood up, and just as he was about to run back, a bullet grazed his arm.

He felt his arm go numb, looked down, and saw a patch of blood seeping through his sleeve.

A minor wound. It was fine.

He gritted his teeth and ran back to the convoy.

"Captain Zhao! You're hurt!" the driver exclaimed.

"It's nothing," Zhao Gang said, taking the transport case from his arms and opening it to inspect.

The five metal boxes were intact, and the indicator lights were still glowing green.

He let out a long sigh of relief.

"Report the situation," he said into the walkie-talkie.

A voice came from the lead vehicle: "Two people in the lead vehicle have minor injuries, the vehicle is damaged but operational. Three attackers were killed, two were captured, and the rest fled."

A voice also came from the rear vehicle: "One person in the rear vehicle has minor injuries, two captives, no one escaped."

Zhao Gang leaned against the vehicle and looked up at the hillside.

Those dark figures had disappeared; only two remained lying in the grass, it was unclear if they were dead or alive.

He wiped the sweat and blood from his face and took out his phone.

The signal was weak, but it was there.

He dialed the number for the base.

At 5:23 AM, at the base.

Lin Mo sat in the laboratory, having not slept all night.

Li Xiao was slumped over the desk next to him, fast asleep, covered by his jacket.

The phone suddenly vibrated.

Lin Mo glanced at the caller ID—Zhao Gang.

His heart skipped a beat, and he pressed the answer button.

"Captain Zhao?"

Zhao Gang's voice came from the other end, slightly breathless but steady: "The samples are safe. Encountered some trouble, but it's resolved. I sustained a minor injury, but I'm fine."

Lin Mo's hand gripping the phone trembled slightly.

"Where are you? What's the situation now?"

"Still in the canyon, cleaning up the scene," Zhao Gang said. "The lead vehicle is broken, we need to switch vehicles. It will delay us an hour or two, but it's not a big problem."

He paused, his voice suddenly lowering: "Dr. Lin, those samples of yours are truly worth risking one's life to protect."

Lin Mo was silent for two seconds, then said: "Captain Zhao, how are your people?"

"Three minor injuries, no serious injuries, no casualties," Zhao Gang said. "We were lucky."

Lin Mo took a deep breath: "Be careful. I'll be here waiting for your return."

The call ended.

Lin Mo stood there, motionless for a long time.

Outside the window, a hint of dawn appeared on the horizon.

A new day had begun.