Bo Highway 334, roadside.

"The King...... You...... You take it easy, don't hang up without fixing it. The poet reclined in a ditch on the side of the road, looked at the king who had planted an explosive device on the road in the distance, put his head to the barrel of the XM214 Nimigang machine gun, and lit the cigarette in his mouth.

"Ahem, ahem—" As soon as he took a puff of smoke, the poet coughed violently, and coughed up blood in his mouth.

He wiped a handful of blood from the corner of his mouth and smiled.

"Alright...... It's all set up......" The king stumbled back into the ditch, gasping for breath, and looked down at the wound in his abdomen, where the man's wife had bandaged it, and the wound was evidently split again.

“FUCK！ It hurts me! The king took a breath of cold air, removed a ball of cotton from his medical kit, and stuffed it into a bandage.

"Ahh

"Duke, give me half a morphine." He tossed his medical kit to the Duke next to him, "Don't shoot too much, I'll be unable to shoot later." ”

The Duke dragged his crippled leg to the king's side, took out a morphine needle from the medical kit, pinched off the vacuum tube, and gently stuck it on the king's thigh.

He carefully pushed the small half, and looked up at the king: "How?" Is it enough? "Morphine, an overdose of morphine can cause central nervous system paralysis, respiratory arrest and death, although the dose of this stick will not be fatal, but for a person like the king who has a big wound on his body, injecting too much morphine can easily cause blood pressure to plummet and die from massive bleeding from the wound.

"What the did you hurt?" He put away the half of the morphine and carefully moved his leg, the slightest movement made him feel heart-rending pain, and he couldn't help but bared his teeth.

"I don't know...... I guess the internal organs are finished, and I'm just inside and now it's as bad as a garbage dump......" The king took a few deep breaths of air, his expression relaxed, and the morphine obviously made him feel a lot less pain.

More than 30 meters away from the highway, several armed pickup trucks emitting black smoke and blazing were lying in the middle of the road, and a few charred corpses fell on the board of the pickup truck, which was burned into black charcoal.

This convoy was just ambushed by three people, and it was taken by surprise, all five pickup trucks were scrap metal, and none of the dozens of rebel soldiers on it survived, and now they are all roast pigs in the fire.

The air was filled with the smell of diesel fuel and the strange smell of barbecued meat.

"Ahem—did you get the explosive device right?" The poet was still coughing up blood, and while coughing, he asked the king, "Our time is running out......

The king nodded weakly: "This is probably the last time I will plant a bomb, and I guess it is also the best I have installed......"

He pointed to the corpses and supplies strewn across the road, "Each corpse has a mine under it, and C4 is installed on the side of the road and in the middle of the road, which is enough to cover this 20-meter-long stretch of road." ”

The Duke raised his head and glanced over there, and teased, "You're going to blow us up together, right?" ”

The king glanced at the wound that was still bleeding, looked indifferent, and lowered his head to suppress the bullet: "In the condition of you and me, the poet, even if we don't die here, we won't survive the hospital...... Sooner or later, it's all about death. ”

The poet coughed a few times, shifted his waist, changed his position, and then glanced at his crotch, and said, "When I was fighting with those black-clothed soldiers in the woods, I thought my own little brother had been blown away, damn, this is the thing I am most proud of...... But it's okay, at least I'm still intact and going to hell...... I'm going to pick up girls and ......."

The three of them fell silent, the cool morning breeze rustling through the treetops. As the rainy season in Sierra Leone draws to a close, three months of heavy rains have filled the arid land with groundwater, and plant sprouts are stubbornly emerging from the roadside soil to embark on a new journey of life.

"Did you find the boss?" The Duke asked suddenly.

The king shook his head and continued to press the bullet, but his voice was much lower: "I can't find it...... The trucks were burned to scrap metal, and the corpses were probably burned to the ground......"

The poet looked at the Ural truck, which had been burned to the white in the distance, looked down and was silent for a moment, and suddenly said: "The best fate for a soldier is to be killed by the last bullet in the last battle......"

The duke was stunned for a moment, and suddenly laughed: "You're dying, you're still in the mood to recite poetry......"

The poet laughed too, his lungs pierced, and when he did, there was a hissing sound like pulling a bellows.

Laughing, he said seriously, "This is not poetry, this is what Barton said." If we become mercenaries, sooner or later this will end up, and the best is this kind of end......"

After the king finished pressing the bullet, he looked up and said, "But this boy is still young, and I don't want him to die in this wilderness like us......"

He pulled open one of his tactical packets, which was full of yellow chunky C4s, and skillfully inserted detonators into the bombs, and made a double safe, connecting two detonators in different positions, so that no matter what happened, the explosion was ensured.

After picking up the detonator, he put the small bag aside, picked up the remote control in his hand and shook it: "Brothers, whoever survives to the end will be handed over to whoever this matter is." Since we can't die in our own bed, we don't want to end up in the wilderness of dead bodies and being used as food by wild dogs. ”

Smack-

The Duke stretched out his hand to grasp the King's remote control, and then the poet propped himself up and reached over.

The three hands were clasped together and shook vigorously.

Suddenly there was the sound of car wheels and truck boards crumbling in the distance, and a new rebel convoy was coming along the road.

"Brothers, do it!" The Duke let go of his hand and expertly picked up the M249 light machine gun.

The poet struggled to the edge of the ditch and carefully inspected the XM214 Nimigang, a good machine gun, and he used to laugh at the polar bear for spending more than 20,000 dollars on a guy that was so heavy that he could tire people to death, but today's battle made him realize the power of this perverted machine gun.

"Come on! You African Scouts! ”

He spat out his burned-out cigarette butt and muttered to himself, reciting an ode to death:

……

The work of the world you have done

Get paid and go home

Talented and beautiful women, return to Huangquan together

Princely scholars, thousands of industries

Reduced to dust, there is no escape

There is no need to worry about the enemy's criticism

Thou hast read all thy joys, sorrows, and sorrows

Infatuated men and women in the world

and all shall return to dust as you are

……

Boom –

A huge fire rose into the sky, and in the convoy, a huge fire rose into the sky. The stumps of the rebel soldiers fell on the dusty road with screams, and the impact of the blast wave of explosives caused a collapse on the hillside of the road, burying alive some of the soldiers who tried to escape into the ditch with rolling stones and dirt.

"To hell with it!" The three let out a final roar.