Chapter 72: A Tiny Pistol Brings Down an Armored Vehicle

According to Tiger’s operational plan, the first step was for Black Fox, Baldy, and the others to neutralize the government soldiers in the pickup truck. With their elite special forces skills, combined with the advantage of striking first, six against eighteen posed no challenge at all.

The second step, lacking sufficient heavy firepower to destroy the armored vehicle, called for Tiger, the demolition expert, to use the plastic explosives he carried to set a landmine and blow off the vehicle’s tracks. Once the armored vehicle could no longer advance and was forced to stop, Tiger would immediately use rifle grenades to destroy all the observation mirrors.

The armored personnel carrier lacked bulletproof windows, only having tank-like observation mirrors. If all external observation mirrors were destroyed, the government soldiers inside—even with access to smoothbore cannons and heavy machine guns—would be unable to attack outside for lack of vision. They would be forced to open the top hatch, rear compartment door, or front armor window to fire.

The vehicle mainly contained hostages, with no more than three government soldiers inside. Such a small number posed no real threat. With this, Tiger and the PMC team could launch a joint assault and take the armored personnel carrier without incident.

Finally, with their two rescue targets secured, they would rush at full speed to the second extraction point, completing this two-million-dollar rescue mission.

Unfortunately, while Black Fox and the other PMCs handled their part perfectly, Captain Tiger encountered trouble. One misstep, and the entire plan unraveled.

Of course, it wasn’t a matter of Tiger lacking expertise in demolition—he had to account for the hostages inside when planting the explosive. Even a little too much, and the blast could kill the hostages by concussion. Moreover, even if the explosive was precisely calculated, the angle and position of the tracks at the moment mattered; if luck was not on their side and the blast core missed the connection point, there was still a high chance the tracks wouldn’t break.

Thus, the awkward situation now unfolded: the armored personnel carrier had not stopped.

As the vehicle neared the village entrance, Tiger, unwilling to give up, fired rifle grenades wildly at the observation mirrors, hoping to blind the crew and force the vehicle to halt.

But it was futile.

The BMP-1 armored personnel carrier’s hull was steel-welded, with reinforced aluminum armor on the exterior, the thickest parts exceeding thirty-three millimeters. Though not as sturdy as a tank, it could easily withstand direct hits from 12.7mm armor-piercing rounds.

Even Baldy’s large-caliber sniper rifle was useless. The rifle grenades had impressive explosive power, but their armor penetration was poor—against the BMP-1, they barely scratched the paint.

Since the tracks hadn’t been broken and the vehicle hadn’t been forced to stop, a chain reaction ensued.

Tiger fired four rifle grenades in succession, but none struck the observation mirrors as the vehicle sped away at full throttle. He could only watch helplessly as it passed through the village entrance, accelerating into the distance.

Watching the armored personnel carrier recede, Tiger was so furious he punched a tree, nearly coughing blood from frustration. His thick beard bristled with rage.

In that moment of despair, Xing Xiaolong raised his legendary R8 revolver, eyes gleaming with anticipation. He licked his dry lips, aiming at the driver’s seat of the armored vehicle now over forty meters away.

Bang! Bang! Bang...

If you hadn’t looked, you’d have thought it was the thunder of an anti-materiel sniper rifle—the shots exploded at the village entrance.

“What kind of gunfire is that? It sounds like an R8 revolver, but I know that gun well, and it doesn’t sound nearly that loud.”

The strange gunshots behind him, even louder than his own rifle grenades, stirred Tiger’s curiosity despite his frustration. He turned to investigate.

Just as Tiger turned, the gunfire ceased.

Seeing Tiger’s puzzled expression, Xing Xiaolong blew the smoke from his R8 revolver, a sly glint in his eyes. Suddenly, he pointed excitedly past Tiger’s back, like a rookie, shouting, “Look over there! Quick, look! The armored vehicle is slowing down—it’s actually slowing down! We have another chance!”

Tiger didn’t understand the language, nor did he recognize Xing Xiaolong’s playful feigned innocence, but he understood the gesture, sensing something was happening behind him. Driven by instinct, Tiger turned to look.

And what he saw left him utterly dumbfounded.

The BMP-1 armored personnel carrier, which had survived the plastic explosive unscathed, and endured five rifle grenade blasts without a scratch, had safely cleared the village entrance—yet now its speed had dropped sharply, and it wobbled down the road like a drunken giant.

After swerving erratically for a dozen meters, it plunged off the road, tumbling from a nearly five-meter-high embankment, landing belly up.

“What? Why?”

Tiger’s mind was filled with question marks—he couldn’t fathom what had happened to the armored vehicle. How could it suddenly flip?

Suddenly, Tiger recalled the bizarre gunfire, and the vehicle’s odd behavior had followed those shots. He turned sharply, fixing his gaze on Xing Xiaolong.

Xing Xiaolong knew what Tiger wanted to ask, so he spoke first, preempting him. Spinning the R8 revolver in his palm, he took out his phone and used a translation app: “Don’t ask me what happened. I don’t know either. I was just bored and fired a few shots. Besides, do you really think… that with just this little revolver in my hand, a couple of shots could take down an armored vehicle? Would you believe it if I said so?”

With the armored vehicle overturned down the five-meter embankment, Xing Xiaolong worried about Mrs. Su’s safety. Without waiting for Tiger’s answer, he rushed towards the armored vehicle.

“A handgun against an armored vehicle? Ha, am I so furious I’ve lost my mind?” Tiger chuckled at himself, admitting Xing Xiaolong was right—it was absurd to think a handgun could pierce an armored vehicle.

Impossible.

“Maybe the mine I planted finally damaged the vehicle, and the effect was delayed? That must be it,” Tiger reasoned, finding an explanation that satisfied him. As he ran with Xing Xiaolong towards the armored vehicle to rescue the hostages, he pressed his earpiece to communicate with the other PMCs.

They were only at step two of the plan; the most crucial moment was still to come.