CHAPTER 94: CHAPTER 94 EXPRESS DELIVERY

Li Ang swiftly cleared the second, third, and fourth floors, stepping over pools of blood and navigating past severed limbs as he advanced through the fifth-floor corridor.

A group of special operations team members followed him, most of them wounded, supporting each other, dragging their weapons, and keeping pace with Li Ang.

These S.W.A.T. team members were truly caught between a rock and a hard place. Outside the apartment building, hidden enemy snipers lay in wait. Stepping out would mean being immediately targeted and killed, leaving no chance for escape. Moreover, gang reinforcements could arrive at any moment, making the first and second floors unsafe as well. That was why they followed Li Ang as he cleared the floors and complied with his arrangements.

After clearing the majority of the rooms on the floor, Li Ang paused, listening intently for a moment. He then turned to the team captain, Manny Pacquiao, and said, "Captain, let’s regroup and rest for a bit."

Pacquiao, his face pale from the gunshot wound in his calf, leaned on a comrade. Limping, he stood and tentatively asked, "Won’t they charge down here?"

Li Ang shook his head. "Not for now. Those vermin aren’t that stupid. They’re probably waiting for us at the sixth-floor stairwell right now."

The gang members scattered throughout the building were not fools. As one radio channel after another went silent, they consciously began to retreat, gathering on the sixth floor. They had received basic military training. Though not elite, they still knew how to position light and heavy weapons and create a crossfire network.

The C-shaped building was neither too big nor too small. If ambushes were set up at the stairwells and elevator entrances on the sixth floor, it would be very difficult for the special operations team to break through.

The situation turned into a deadlock. The more time dragged on, the more likely it was that other drug lord forces in Malawi City could send reinforcements.

The S.W.A.T. team members watched as Li Ang pushed open a wooden door, and they followed him into the room. This room had already been cleared. A gangster’s body lay on the floor. Li Ang kicked it aside, drew the room’s curtains, and, along with his team members, moved the refrigerator, sofa, tables, and chairs to barricade the door.

For the moment, they were safe. The operatives all breathed a sigh of relief. Those with minor injuries tended to the wounds of the more severely hurt, while the operatives still able-bodied crouched on the floor with Li Ang, poring over the building’s blueprints.

"The longer the delay, the more unfavorable the situation becomes for us," Li Ang said. "The enemy’s reinforcements could arrive at any moment. If we just take the stairs up, we’re likely to be blasted to pieces by their various firearms as soon as we show our heads. We need to reorganize our viable forces and figure out a way to break the siege."

"Do we, do we still have to continue the mission?" a young operative with an immature face stammered. "We could hide here and wait for support from headquarters..."

Captain Manny Pacquiao glanced at him, his expression bitter as he shook his head. "We’re on our own. I’ve already contacted headquarters, but there was no response. With drug corruption rampant in Malawi City, everyone from grassroots operatives to the higher-ups in headquarters benefits from the drug trade. They’d rather see us dead than come to our aid."

Pacquiao paused. He looked around at the pale faces of his companions, then said in a low, grim voice, "Santos Aquino is the most beloved younger brother of rebel leader Cruz Aquino. The rebels are right outside the city, ready to storm in at any moment. Headquarters is even less likely to provide support at this point. If they weren’t worried about repercussions for overstepping later, they’d probably be driving over right now to help Tama Riyadi ’exterminate’ us."

The atmosphere in the living room grew oppressive, with morale sinking even lower among the operatives. Li Ang looked at Manny Pacquiao, speechless.

Hey, buddy, are you sure you’re not sent by the enemy to undermine our morale?

Li Ang cleared his throat. "Ahem. Right now, all we can rely on is ourselves. Let’s take inventory of our equipment and able-bodied personnel first."

In the living room, twelve operatives remained alive: six seriously injured, four lightly wounded, and only five still capable of moving freely and fighting.

They were not short on firearms and ammunition: SCAR-H assault rifles, HK-MP5A2 submachine guns, M4 Super 90 shotguns, handheld lightweight bulletproof shields, and two FN40GL grenade launchers that could be mounted under the SCAR-H rifles.

After brief consideration, Li Ang formed a five-man squad from those who could still fight.

At the front was Shield, wielding an explosion-proof shield and a silenced handgun, responsible for resisting enemy fire.

The second in line carried a submachine gun, tasked with medium to close-range fire suppression.

Third was Li Ang, with a SCAR rifle equipped with a grenade launcher, responsible for medium to long-range fire.

The fourth member carried a shotgun, for forcibly breaching doors and close-quarters combat.

The fifth man also held a SCAR rifle, tasked with watching their rear for enemies.

The hastily formed five-man temporary combat squad was ready. Now, the task was to figure out how to eliminate the enemy snipers on the high ground. The enemy had already zeroed in on the fifth-floor stairwell; moving through the corridors made it easy to be targeted by sniper rifles.

Li Ang pulled out his walkie-talkie and contacted their team’s sniper. After a brief exchange, he confirmed the enemy sniper locations.

"’At least four of them, all using SVD sniper rifles. One is on the eighth floor of the C-shaped building’s left wing, one on the seventh floor of its right wing, one on the rooftop of a distant building, and the last one’s position is unknown,’ Li Ang muttered to himself, taking three DJI Mavic Pro Platinum drones from his backpack.

A hand grenade was tied to each drone with silk thread. The thread was looped around the grenade’s pin; a sudden jolt would pull the pin, causing the grenade to drop and detonate.

Li Ang took out three smartphones, placed them in front of him, and connected each one to a drone. The smartphone screens displayed the drone camera feeds. Li Ang had his companions crack open the curtains slightly, then his ten fingers danced across the smartphone screens as if playing a piano.

The three drones flew out of the window gracefully and swiftly, each heading in a different direction.

Thanks to his Agility and his Intelligence Attribute, both at eight points, Li Ang’s ten fingers smoothly controlled the drones’ movements—advancing, retreating, diving, and climbing—each finger moving as if it had a life of its own.

The enemy snipers hiding in the buildings saw the drones boldly crossing the open space in the middle of the C-shaped apartment complex, charging straight at them.

WTF? What the hell is that?

The snipers dropped their rifles and drew their pistols, firing at the drones in mid-air. However, the drones zipped through the sky—climbing, descending, turning, and flipping with extremely flashy maneuvers. Even after emptying their magazines, they failed to hit a single one.

The snipers, terrified, turned to flee towards the door. But the drones shot through the open windows with unrelenting speed, slamming into them with the attached grenades.

You have a special delivery, the self-exploding kind.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

The triple explosions overlapped. Li Ang watched all three smartphone screens go dark and let out a long breath. Operating three drones at once was a considerable drain on his mental and physical energy; it was truly exhausting.

He wiped the non-existent cold sweat from his forehead, then turned to his companions, who were utterly shocked and speechless. He casually said, "Let’s go. We’re heading upstairs."