Chapter 64: The Great Five-Faction Armed Melee

What method exactly did Xing Xiaolong use to enter the village smoothly and depart without alarming a single villager? Fierce Tiger couldn’t figure it out, and neither could Black Fox or the remaining two PMC operatives.

But now, there was no time to dwell on it.

Based on the information Xing Xiaolong revealed, combined with the intelligence extracted from the captive, the meticulous and sharply logical intelligence officer, Black Fox, deduced a crucial piece of information.

That was—

There was a strong possibility that the Kaso tribe and the anti-government guerrillas had reached some form of agreement.

With this possibility in mind, all the questions that had previously puzzled Xing Xiaolong now found their answers.

The Kaso tribe’s fighters showed no fear toward the government troops and UN peacekeepers stationed outside, and the tribal leader displayed no concern about the government sending in forces—precisely because he had the anti-government forces backing him.

Adding to this, the information broadcast on the radio indicated that the anti-government militia had recently gained a large supply of arms and materiel.

If government troops were to enter the Kaso tribe’s territory unaware, they would undoubtedly be surrounded by the anti-government forces and utterly crushed; the outcome would be disastrous.

Let alone threatening the local armed groups—escaping alive would itself be uncertain.

Although the collusion between local armed groups and anti-government forces was, for now, just Black Fox's hypothesis, the likelihood was exceedingly high.

As for what exact agreement the Kaso tribe and the anti-government guerrillas had reached, and whether it was connected to the current malicious extortion of the plane crash survivors—no one could say for certain.

But that was no longer important. For Fierce Tiger and his PMC team, they now faced two very difficult choices.

The government had finally decided to send troops—a boon for the outside world, but a calamity for Fierce Tiger and the others.

Given their current status, whether confronted by the Kazhe River government, local tribal fighters, anti-government guerrillas, or the UN peacekeepers, they were all considered illegal combatants—unacknowledged by any side.

If they were to run into one another with weapons drawn, at least the peacekeepers, bound only to self-defense, would remain on high alert without firing. The other three factions, however, would open fire without hesitation.

Furthermore, what they’d expected as a two-sided conflict before the mission had now escalated: they’d arrived to find not only local forces and anti-government guerrillas, but also peacekeepers and government troops, turning the field into a four-way standoff. Now things had advanced even further, and the situation had devolved into a five-sided entanglement—an intractable mess where the interests of all sides were hopelessly knotted together.

With such complex relations among five factions, the difficulty of the mission had soared severalfold.

But most importantly, since this PMC squad had accepted the mission, it meant they had also accepted its terms: regardless of whether Fierce Tiger’s team executed the rescue, both of the hostages had to survive.

If they were to withdraw now and leave the rescue to the government forces, there would be no guarantee of the hostages’ safety.

A bunch of African conscripts knew nothing about hostage rescue; if they stormed in, firing tank shells, autocannons, and machine guns indiscriminately, they might annihilate all the Kaso tribe’s fighters, but most of the hostages would likely be killed in the crossfire.

Or, if the anti-government guerrillas really did show up and colluded with the local fighters to strike the government troops, a three-way firefight would erupt in the chaos.

The odds of the hostages surviving would be just as slim.

Should either of the mission-critical hostages die, the entire PMC team would face demotion by the Peace Hotel and the forfeiture of all their commission—a penalty Fierce Tiger and his team could never accept.

But if they remained, they faced another problem: their extraction boat wouldn’t arrive until seven in the morning two days later—by then, it would be too late. Even with their team of eight, including the “external support” Xing Xiaolong, they would be hopelessly outnumbered in a violent melee with the four armed groups converging on this tiny village. The risk was severe: they might not even be able to rescue the hostages, ending up sacrificing themselves instead.

What to do?

Faced with such a tangled predicament and a choice with no right answer, even as team leader, Fierce Tiger couldn’t decide alone. He gathered all the PMC operatives for a collective discussion on whether to withdraw or proceed.

Xing Xiaolong’s stance was straightforward—he made it clear that he didn’t trust the locals and insisted they attempt the rescue themselves.

As the mission’s designated external support, he was entitled to voice his position.

Perhaps it was Xing Xiaolong’s insistence that swayed them, or perhaps concern for their own interests—after all, a three-million-dollar contract was rare, and the cost of failure was unacceptable.

In the end, Fierce Tiger, Black Fox, and the others gritted their teeth and resolved to proceed.

However, to avoid getting caught in a massive free-for-all and being swallowed up by sheer numbers, Black Fox suggested they begin the operation a day earlier—a proposal met with unanimous approval by the six PMC operatives.

The extraction plan was also revised: instead of a waterborne escape from Extraction Zone 1, they would switch to Extraction Zone 2, driving two pickup trucks back along the original route.

With the extraction point changed, other operational details had to be adjusted accordingly.

Nearly two hours passed before the revised plan was finalized, and all the PMC operatives seized the time to redeploy under cover of night.

Xing Xiaolong and the others waited in the woods, biding their time for the hour when human bodies were at their lowest ebb, just before dawn. The Kaso tribe had been busy deep into the night, evacuating women and children by car to safety. It wasn’t that all the noncombatants had been evacuated—there simply weren’t enough vehicles. They would have to make another trip the next morning.

Perhaps they hadn’t expected the government to arrive so quickly, for the remaining women in the village showed no signs of panic.

Everyone returned to their homes and slept soundly.

——

The next day.

At exactly five in the morning.

The morning star had long since climbed the night sky. The first pale streaks of dawn tinged the east, the world no longer shrouded in darkness but softly veiled in the indistinct gray of early morning.

Within less than an hour, sunlight would spill once more across the land.

It was at this hour—when sleep was deepest and bodies most unguarded—that six figures, clad in top-of-the-line tactical gear, their all-terrain camouflage suits soaked with dew, slipped from the woods in single file and silently approached the edge of the village.

They were Fierce Tiger and his men, who had waited all night in the woods, only moving when the once-boisterous village finally fell quiet.

A crisp metallic click echoed—the sound of a chambered round. Ten meters away, a dog dropped dead, its head shattered by a suppressed bullet.

With an expansion-type reflex suppressor and subsonic rounds, the shot was barely thirty decibels—truly remarkable. There was no thunderous bang, and if not for the mechanical clink of the action, it would have been silent.

At that moment, with his right hand raised, upper arm level with his shoulder, Fierce Tiger was poised to give a tactical hand signal to advance toward the church and rescue the hostages as planned.

Suddenly—“Vroom, vroom, vroom…”

Pebbles on the ground began to bounce as if electrified, and the furious roar of powerful engines surged from the distance, growing rapidly louder.