Soviet Union 1991

Update 2

In fact, Moscow’s calculations are similar to what Assad has in mind. If they really want to implement a rescue, they cannot openly use national forces, but some. Even if that team perfectly rescues everyone, Moscow will not recognize their existence. At most, they will give these people a new identity and let them start a new life.

So the GRU troops stationed in Syria have no room to refuse, even though saving hostages is not within their scope of accusation.

The GRU troops held an emergency meeting at Latakia Airport in Syria. Everyone was wearing black uniforms, like a ghost hidden in the dark night. Parked in front of them was an An-series transport plane. The Syrian Air Force’s logo and number had been erased, so that others would not recognize that it was a Syrian Air Force transport plane, and it was also the only transport plane ready to take off at night.

The night enveloped the entire airport, only the indicator lights on the runway were still flashing. The plane had been overhauled and could take off at any time. The captain of this incident was making the final mobilization and explanation. He said to the team members dressed in black but without any identification, "Benghazi is a very dangerous city. Until now, the conflict between the major armed forces has not stopped. Our mission this time is a confidential operation. We cannot reveal our identities and names. Even when you stand here, our files have been wiped out in the GRU. Even if we die in Libya, the Soviet government will not recognize our identities, let alone get the treatment of Soviet heroes. You can choose to withdraw or not do it, but." The captain paused and said, "Now we are the only ones who can save the Soviet ambassador." "No one will back down, captain." The soldier in the first row raised his head, straightened his back, and answered seriously, "After all, this is our mission, and we will never back down. As soldiers, can't we go up, and the people should go up?" The captain did not answer him, but just said to set off. Everyone silently picked up their equipment, waiting for the hatch to slowly open, and then entered the equally dark transport plane. They would spend a long and lonely few hours in the air, and then parachute over Benghazi. This would definitely be a dangerous operation. When they stepped into the city of Benghazi, they would hand over their own fate to the god of death.

As the team rushed to Benghazi, the embassy, ​​which was anxiously waiting for rescue, had entered the white-hot battle. The militants of the Freedom Camp transferred more armed pickups from other places to suppress the GRU team members who were hiding behind the wall. Of course, this group of ** fighters who had experienced nightmares in Afghanistan were not vegetarians. The shooters holding SVDs fired at the operators on the armed pickups from the sentry towers equipped with bulletproof glass. Every time a operator was eliminated, before the other person filled the gap, the GRU soldiers hiding behind the wall fired an RPG at the armed pickups. With such cooperation, the wave after wave of tentative attacks by the Freedom Camp were blocked.

The sniper pulled the bolt and witnessed an armed pickup truck explode into a brilliant fire in front of him. He smiled and said, "This is the fifth one."

Everywhere he looked through the scope, there were fallen bodies of armed personnel. The coagulated blood almost covered the entire dusty yellow land with blood red. So far, his record of killing enemies is 34 people, most of whom were killed by one shot. He didn't even have time to add one more to the corpse.

"Hey, comrades, this is their nth attack? I don't know how many batches of support this group of people has called in. There are far more than 60 people." The sniper spit on the ground and said disdainfully, "With this offensive trend, we can at least hold on until we run out of ammunition and food."

Mazelkov did not have the slightest joy. If he really held on until he ran out of ammunition and food and still didn't wait for rescue, then he really could only hit the forehead of Comrade Belenko, the Soviet ambassador. It is better to die in his own hands than to fall into the hands of the opposition and be humiliated. And Moscow will never tolerate such a thing.

"Keep alert, the enemy will not relax. If I guess correctly, they are preparing for the next wave of attack." Mazelkov put down the walkie-talkie and sat down in the corner tiredly. So far, only two of the 18 people were slightly injured. They repelled the attacks of most armed personnel. However, the sniper expressed Mazelkov's concerns. What should they do if they still don't wait for rescue when they run out of ammunition and food?

Moscow has issued a notice that rescue will come quickly. However, the area near the embassy has fallen into the hands of the Libyan Freedom Battalion. The Red Crescent Brigade is in the east district, and the United Revolutionary Front is in the south district. The Soviet Embassy is now very awkwardly located in a place where both armed factions cannot reach.

"Pay attention to everyone to save money and wait for rescue." Mazelkov said, wiping his dirty cheeks with his sleeves. After a night of fierce fighting, his whole face was covered with dust. Replace the empty magazine in his hand and reload it with a new one.

Mazelkov had just finished a series of actions when he heard a strange sound coming from above him. When he raised his head, he saw the scene he least wanted to see.

A mortar landed squarely on the watchtower. In full view of the crowd, the top floor of the watchtower was blown into ruins. Mazelkov looked at the watchtower with flames all over the sky. He didn't even shout "be careful" on the intercom. Mazelkov quickly picked up the intercom on the ground, wiped off the dust, and said to everyone, "The sniper is dead. The other side now has the help of mortars. Everyone be careful."

When they heard the mortar, everyone's heart darkened.

Before Mazelkov finished speaking, another mortar fell into the swimming pool in the courtyard. The explosion splashed a large area of ​​water, and the team members standing by the swimming pool were directly knocked to the ground by the shock wave.

The sound that had been deposited outside the wall gradually sounded. Mazelkov knew that the enemy was organizing and preparing for a new attack. If the reinforcement team did not come, Mazelkov and others might not be able to withstand this round of attack. When he glanced outside the wall, the scene made him unforgettable.

The Libyan Freedom Battalion seemed to have transferred all the people to attack the Libyan Embassy in the sea of ​​people who had already been attacked. The militants, who were already bloodthirsty, vowed to cut off the heads of all the pagans who dared to resist their true pig will.

"This is our Stalingrad, our Grozny, our Paktia, soldiers, we have no way to retreat." Mazelkov stood up and shouted to everyone, "Do you want to be a lingering captive, or die unyielding?"

"I'd rather die than surrender!"

Even though they were already scarred, everyone was still in high spirits, even if the artillery fire continued to fall into the courtyard, raising dust and air waves, and there was a group of unarmed women and Ambassador Belenko in the embassy behind them. Even if they died with the enemy, they could not let these innocent people fall into the hands of these beasts.

"Soviet soldiers will never surrender!" Mazelkov, who once served as a political commissar, shouted this sentence loudly. He was honored to have the opportunity to die for his country.

The Libyan armed members who were about to rush to the gate heard a thunderous shout. It was another kind of lofty belief that they could not understand, and the powerful force that burst out. It was not comparable to the vulgar beliefs of the 72 princes in heaven. This belief represented the true direction of human civilization and the endless driving force for development.

Time seemed to stop at this moment, and the sound was transmitted into everyone's mind through the air, and like a thunder, it hit the hearts of the armed personnel hard.

"Ura!" (To be continued.)