Manual of Space-Time Interference

"7 o'clock! Find cover! Strike back!"

Richard shouted, and then quickly rushed towards the trees next to him. Using the trees as a cover, he kept shooting at the old Maozi on the high **** in the north.

"Puff puff!"

Bullets kept hitting this small jungle, and sawdust, branches and leaves kept flying around.

"Captain, the opponent's firepower is too strong!"

One of the team members shouted, then waited for a gap, got out from behind the tree, and frantically fought back against the old man on the opposite high slope.

"Lauren, Lauren, I'm Richard, we encountered a large-scale ambush by the enemy, and quickly carried out covered artillery strikes to 274, 367, repeating, quickly..."

"clear!"

A voice came from the communicator, Richard listened, leaned out again, shot the old Maozi on the high ground a few times, and quickly retracted, looking almost shrunk. A group of soldiers roared loudly, "Disperse, disperse immediately, move defensive formation!"

"Sniper, where is the sniper?"

"I'm... Boom!"

"Shit!" Richard scolded, slightly tilted his head to look at the situation on the high ground to the north, and then quickly retracted, leaning against the trunk, his chest kept heaving, he turned on his communicator again, and swallowed. He swallowed and said, "Lauren, if your artillery fire doesn't come again, your reconnaissance team will be wiped out!"

"Two minutes, Richard, you just have to hold on for two minutes!"

"Bitch!" Richard scolded, constantly leaning forward a little, fighting back against the enemy on the high ground to the north, but under the constraints of the terrain, he seemed very weak.

Time, walking slowly, these 120 seconds, under the constant gunfire and artillery fire, seems extraordinarily long...

"Huh! Huh!"

The sound of cutting through the air finally sounded one after another in the sky. Richard retracted his body that was slightly outstretched, and looked into the night sky, but was blocked by the heavy rain.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Accompanied by the flashes of fire in this rainy night, one after another roaring sounds came continuously from the high **** in the north. Richard listened, slowly picked up his communicator, and said leisurely,

"Lauren, you know what, I've never found the sound of this explosion so pleasant!"

"Then I think you should listen more. In addition, the helicopter will arrive within 10 minutes, Richard, I think your team needs to rest for a while!"

Lauren's voice came from the opposite side, Richard listened, and a relaxed smile appeared on his face. He turned to look at the high ground that was constantly blooming with sparks, and then said into the headset. "Report your situation!"

"Hu Rui, OK!"

"Gerente, OK!"

The voices of the rest of the life after the catastrophe sounded in the headset. Until the end, only 9 voices sounded. The original team of 20 people, except for 2 people who died on the way to pursue the dialect, the remaining 8 people, in just three minutes. They died directly during the battle within the 10 people who survived, and 4 people were injured to varying degrees.

"Head, I think I can go home!"

A weak voice suddenly sounded from the headset again, Richard listened, opened his mouth, and said slowly and softly,

"Bob, I think everyone misses you, but I think your wife and children should need you more than we do."

"Thank you, head!"

...

As for dialects, this battle caused by Lao Maozi ended up being ended by Lao Maozi, and the ending seemed to be ended by Lao Maozi's failure. This dramatic pursuit was too much. The dream, the end, is too dreamy...

But the dialect did not lose his mind in the warmth of Lao Maozi, but while the two sides were still fighting, he slowly climbed out of the fighting area, and then forcibly supported his left leg, which was hurting a step. Slowly, run towards the distance.

Until the sound of gunfire behind him, until the sound of gunfire behind him stopped, until the helicopter above his head flew over, and then flew back again, he slowly slowed down his steps and walked slowly towards the unknown front. .

Cold, pain, rain, no direction...

It wasn't until the end, when the sky was bright, that he saw a city from the drizzle, a city that was unusually silent, without the sound of gunshots or cannons.

After comparing the map and the reference object, he discovered that he should have come to the N7 direction on the map, which happened to be the opposite of S1, and this side should be a side battlefield.

Dialect watched, put the binoculars and map in the side pocket of his backpack, held the gun, and used the ruins and the wreckage of the car to slowly touch the nearest and well-preserved building, and then Going past the open window, he jumped in gently.

It wasn't until he searched the entire room and set up the warning device that his expression relaxed again, and he sat down on the floor of the bedroom. Slowly, he took off his muddy combat uniform and pulled it up. his left leg trousers.

"Hey! Whoosh!"

A cold air was gently inhaled by the dialect, and then slowly exhaled. He looked at his swollen left calf, and finally shook his head helplessly, slowly opened the medicine box next to him, and looked at the Russian inside. I took out two of the anti-inflammatory medicines in the English translation, and then lifted my head ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ and swallowed it directly.

The sun came in from the corner of the window next to it, and the drizzle finally stopped slowly. A beam of light with some color also slowly appeared in the sky. Dialect looked at it and smiled, and from the backpack He took out a bag of potato chips, and Kazkaz ate it.

After the rain, the sky is sunny, happy, happy...

Dialect feels that his current mood is like this. Although his whole body looks abnormally embarrassed, there is mud on his face, and even his left leg is basically scrapped now, but in the end, he still survived, and the last Wang Zhai did not explode. to my head...

Thinking about it, he touched his face, and sure enough, he touched the blackness of his hand. He looked at it, took some clothes from the closet next to him, and wiped his face vigorously.

It wasn't until the third piece of clothing was thrown aside by him that he stood on one foot, jumped on the bed, and then lay directly on the bed, falling asleep slightly.

The sound of guns and guns seems to start to sound faintly again, and there are bursts of whistling sounds from time to time in the sky, and this seems to just prove one thing to the dialect - the war you think is not over yet. ...