"RPG! Three o'clock direction!" Vice-captain Zhou Linchuan's roar came from the headset. She threw out the smoke bomb with her backhand and dragged the girl towards the broken wall. Sand and dust mixed with the smell of blood filled the nostrils, and the golden roof of the distant mosque collapsed in the explosion.
This is her last single mission before retirement - to rescue the Kuwaiti energy minister who was held hostage by extremist organizations. But no one expected that there were more than 30 civilian children trapped in the target of the terrorist attack.
"It's safe at seven o'clock! Bring the hostages!" Russian sniper Ivan roared on the channel, but Cheng Juyan suddenly let go of the girl's hand. A corner of a broken pink headscarf emerged from the rubble, and beneath it lay a girl who could not be more than five years old.
"Jiu Yan! Forty-five seconds countdown to the explosion!" Zhou Linchuan's voice cracked for the first time.
She knocked aside the crumbling beam, shattering glass into her palms. The child in his arms was as light as a feather, but the body armor was soaked with warm liquid—I don't know if it was the child's blood or his own.
When purple lightning exploded above his head, Cheng Juyan thought of Zhou Linchuan's hexagram three days ago. That guy always likes to use "Book of Changes" to calculate the fortune of missions. This time he played with three ancient coins at the airport and frowned: "Tianhuo Tongren Gua... I'm afraid someone will be trapped outside the current situation."
Intention: to achieve success