492: Chapter 492 Night Owl's Sudden Invasion Instantly Takes Down Enemy Leader

"The third wave of shelling is over. The fissure on the western slope of the mountain has expanded by seventeen meters."

Zhao Yuxun's operations staff officer spread the drone's thermal imaging map across the sand table.

Under a week of continuous artillery bombardment, the limestone layers on the western slope of Mount Kinabalu had split into three large gashes. The largest fissure extended from an altitude of 2,400 meters up to 3,100 meters, spanning a vertical elevation difference of 700 meters.

White smoke seeped from deep within the fissure—that was cooling steam leaking after the underground command post's generator exhaust pipe had been cracked by the shockwaves.

Over the past seven days, the coalition artillery had exhausted four basic loads of 155mm high-explosive shells.

The PHL-191 rocket launchers carried out precision clearance strikes on the mountain fissures, with every salvo carving new cracks into the limestone.

The soaring dragon drones circled in twenty-four-hour shifts, carrying laser-guided bombs deep into the fissures to destroy the U.S. military's ventilation ducts, emergency exits, and supply depots one by one.

The command space of the "Widowmaker" had been compressed to a cave complex of less than three hundred square meters at the core of the mountain.

Supplies were completely cut off—the last C-130 transport plane attempting to airdrop supplies had been shot down by an HQ-9BE anti-aircraft missile three days ago. Its wreckage was scattered in the rainforest at the southern foot of the mountain, with fragments of the aluminum fuselage hanging from the crowns of the dipterocarp trees, blindingly white under the sunlight.

"Is the Lin Xiao Squad in position?" Zhao Yuxun asked.

"They are in position." The communications staff officer pushed over an encrypted tablet. "Night Owl is leading the team personally. Twelve people—four assault teams, two sniper support teams, one technical team. Optical camouflage is fully activated, and the thermal signature suppression coating has been applied. Their current position is here—"

After completing the initial interrogation of Mel at the warehouse east of Kuching, Night Owl had boarded a soaring dragon transport plane overnight and airdropped to the forward base on the western slope of Mount Kinabalu.

As he removed the magazine from his assault rifle to check his ammunition, Zhao Yuxun's operations staff officer happened to be spreading the drone's thermal imaging map across the sand table.

The communications staff officer pointed to a red dot at the deepest part of the western slope fissure on the sand table.

"Less than eighty meters from the core of the command post."

02:40 AM. Deep within the western slope fissure of Mount Kinabalu.

Night Owl crouched on the damp limestone wall, his optical camouflage blending his silhouette perfectly into the gray-white texture of the rock face. Even if someone were to shine a flashlight from three meters away, they would only see a slightly distorted shadow of the rock.

There was no light deep in the fissure. The U.S. military's generator had its cooling system damaged by a bunker-buster bomb four days ago and could only operate intermittently. It started up every forty minutes, running for twelve minutes each time to charge the communication equipment. Night Owl and his team had slipped in by timing this gap.

When the generator stopped for the first time, they advanced thirty meters.

When the generator stopped for the second time, they crossed three tripwire mine defense lines.

When the generator stopped for the third time—which was seven minutes ago—they reached the final sentry post on the perimeter of the command post.

Two Filipino militants sat at the sentry post. One was dozing off, his chin resting on his chest, holding an M16 rifle with rust on the barrel. The other was wrapped in a moldy blanket, staring blankly at the water droplets seeping from the rock wall.

Three meters behind them was the entrance to the command post—a natural cave entrance reinforced with corrugated steel plates. Hooks were welded to the edges of the steel plates, holding the detonating wires of two M18A1 directional mines.

Night Owl tapped his knuckles twice on the channel.

Lin Xiao-4 poked a suppressor out from a crack in the left rock wall. Two muffled thuds, with a very short interval. Both sentries' chins dropped to their chests simultaneously—anesthetic rounds. When the subsonic bullets from the suppressed submachine guns struck the neck muscles, the special anesthetic had already cut off their consciousness before nerve conduction was complete. They didn't even have time to grunt.

Lin Xiao-7 crawled to the entrance and used hydraulic shears to cut the detonating wires. The moment she cut them, her fingers rested on the insulation of the wires to feel them—the other end of the wires was connected to a detonator inside the command post, and there was someone on guard next to the detonator. She tapped her knuckles four times on the channel: Guard present, living target.

Night Owl gave a tactical hand signal: Assault teams to cut in from three directions simultaneously. Technical team to bring up the rear, prioritize seizing encrypted equipment.

02:58 AM. The generator started up again, and the roaring sound came from deep within the rock wall, masking the subtle sounds of the assault teams moving.

03:00 AM. Two minutes before the third generator shutdown.

Night Owl tapped his knuckles once on the channel— "Execute."

The directional explosive charges detonated at the cave entrance. It didn't blast open the entire entrance, but was precise enough to only sever the welding points of the corrugated steel plates. The moment the steel plates flew outward, the three assault teams cut in simultaneously—muzzle flashes from suppressed submachine guns flickered from the crack in the left rock wall, the green glow of night-vision goggles reflected from behind the stalactites on the right, and the frontal assault team stepped directly over the blasted, deformed corrugated steel plates.

The interior of the command post was larger than the reconnaissance images had shown—nearly four hundred square meters, divided into two levels. The upper level was the communications area and tactical command console; the lower level was the generator room and ammunition storage room. Over a dozen niches had been carved into the rock walls, filled with encrypted radios, satellite communication terminals, and polished weapon racks.

The man standing in front of the tactical command console turned around. His military uniform sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and when he raised his right arm, the unit insignia of a snake and a dagger was revealed. After Black died, he had taken over this cave. A printed encrypted telegram was pressed onto the command console, dated six days ago—the voice of the "Widowmaker" confirming the target on the channel was extremely faint, but his finger was already hooked on the trigger.

The man turned around the instant he heard the explosion, his right hand releasing the satellite phone receiver to draw the M17 pistol from his waist.

His movements were fast. But Night Owl was faster.

A close-range shot from a suppressed submachine gun blasted a bloody hole in his right forearm. It wasn't a through-and-through wound—the bullet shattered the middle section of the ulna, and bone fragments pierced out from under the skin, blindingly white. The pistol flew out and smashed into the display screen of the tactical command console; the screen shattered, and the short circuit splashed out blue-white sparks.

He didn't scream. He gritted his teeth, his left hand still pressing down on the printed telegram. The force of his bite broke his lower lip, and blood dripped from his chin onto the paper.

"Initiate self-destruct—" He hadn't finished shouting before Night Owl smashed his rifle butt into his lower jaw. His teeth bit through the edge of his tongue, and blood foam surged from his mouth. As he collapsed, his left hand slid off the telegram, his fingers convulsively grabbing toward the red button under the command console—that was the detonator switch for the self-destruct device.

Night Owl stepped on his left wrist, the anti-slip studs on his boot sole grinding into the carpal bones. A muffled sound of the wrist bones breaking came from under the combat boot sole. "Don't move."

The remaining U.S. special forces soldiers inside the command post were mostly cleared within the first five seconds. The left assault team cut in, their assault rifles sweeping down three soldiers attempting to grab weapons from the racks. The right assault team suppressed the generator room entrance; after two flashbangs were thrown in, the muffled sound of heavy objects falling to the ground came from inside—that was the sound of the communications officer guarding the detonator falling over after being stunned. The frontal assault team secured the area around the tactical command console, and Lin Xiao-4 pressed his muzzle against the neck of the cryptographer who was crouching on the floor attempting to initiate the emergency destruction procedure.