Chapter 38 Gurkha Mercenaries
Zhao Ziyang, who escaped death, climbed into the helicopter, sat in the cabin gasping for breath, staring at the person who rescued him.
The Count, it was the Count who rescued him.
Zhao Ziyang had no reaction when he saw the Earl, even though he had always thought of the Earl as someone who betrayed them. But he couldn't say anything at this moment, the best way was to wait for the Earl to speak and see what he could say.
"You must think that I am the one who betrayed you?" The count spoke and asked the question calmly.
"That's right." Zhao Ziyang did not deny it. There was no need to hide anything in front of such a person.
They all have a pair of eagle-like eyes, years of experience and understanding of human nature, and they always have a very clear understanding of people's thoughts.
"It's a pity that I'm not." The Earl rubbed his face, looked out of the cabin with an extremely lonely look, and murmured: "Phillips is dead. I may be the only one left alive in our former OP combat team."
"The captain is dead?" Zhao Ziyang looked shocked. He thought that Black Hawk would be controlled, but he never thought that Black Hawk would die so soon.
Under normal circumstances, a high-ranking mercenary leader like Black Hawk would be very useful, and the US military would not be willing to kill him, but now the Earl said that the leader was dead. The Earl had no need to lie, nor did he have any need to use such a lie to explain anything.
All kinds of emotions rose up in Zhao Ziyang's heart at once. He thought of the Black Hawk who played parkour, the Black Hawk who commanded the battle, the Black Hawk who was approachable...
"Evidence!" Zhao Ziyang's voice was trembling, and he himself did not even notice it.
A stack of photos was placed in front of Zhao Ziyang, and the photos showed Black Hawk's body.
From the photos, it can be seen that Black Hawk was killed by a bullet in the middle of his forehead. His hands were tied behind his back, his ten fingers were bloody, and his body was covered with scars from whipping , which showed that he had suffered extremely cruel torture before his death.
These photos captured the Black Hawk's death from various angles and were taken intentionally by someone with ulterior motives.
"All the photos are real. This can be concluded through technical appraisal. You can do it." The count lit a cigarette, took a deep puff and continued to say to Zhao Ziyang: "This was made by an old comrade inside. Alas..."
Black Hawk is dead, Lurker is finished...
Zhao Ziyang, who was holding a stack of photos, was filled with this thought. Indeed, without Black Hawk, the Lurkers were really finished and would be disbanded in an instant. From now on, there would be no more Lurkers as a mercenary, and they would be thrown into a forgotten corner.
Slowly putting the photo in his arms, Zhao Ziyang fell into silence. He took a cigarette from the count and lit it, choking his lungs with the pungent smoke to make himself feel better.
"How can I believe what you say?" Zhao Ziyang asked the count in a low voice, holding his head with both hands, his heart full of pain.
After seeing the photo of Black Hawk's corpse, Zhao Ziyang realized that he was not only living among his former comrades, but also living in the present, among this group of crazy Lurkers.
Hearing Zhao Ziyang's question, the Earl gently unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a bowl-sized gunshot wound on his chest and a penetrating gunshot wound in his abdomen.
"I blocked two bullets for Phillips." The Earl continued slowly, "Phillips blocked three bullets for me. His face was shot by a shotgun because it was shielding me. For this reason, he always joked with me about marrying his sister to him, hahaha..."
A dry laugh came out of the earl's throat, full of pain and memories. Along with the dry laugh, the earl's eyes turned red, and his originally bright eyes became a little cloudy, with tears swirling inside.
"Huh..." The Earl rubbed his cheeks hard to dry his eyes, took out another cigarette and lit it, then turned around and asked Zhao Ziyang: "Do you believe it?"
"letter!"
There was nothing to disbelieve. Although there was no solid evidence, Zhao Ziyang knew that the Earl had no reason to attack Black Hawk. Being able to block bullets for each other on the battlefield and having blocked bullets for each other on the battlefield were two completely different concepts. Such comrades would never betray each other. They would rather die than let the other die.
Zhao Ziyang felt this deeply, so he believed it.
"I can't avenge Phillips. The Gurkha mercenaries I lead are all my people. I have to be responsible for them. I can't let them risk their lives for my personal grudge ."
The Earl was right. His Gurkha mercenaries were all from the same ethnic group. He was begging for food with his people. He had to be responsible for these people, and for the parents, wives and children of these soldiers, so he could not ask these soldiers to avenge him.
It was the Earl's responsibility to earn money with the Gurkha mercenaries and return alive, and it was his personal responsibility to avenge Phillips. However, it was the US military that killed Black Hawk, so the Earl could do nothing.
"I will avenge the captain." Zhao Ziyang narrowed his eyes. He knew that too many debts would not weigh him down. He had lived his whole life for hatred.
"That's why I asked you to come here." The Earl's eyes suddenly flashed with the viciousness of a cold-blooded animal, and he said in a cold tone: "The U.S. government owes us OP brothers too much blood debt."
After hearing this, Zhao Ziyang understood that, in fact, the Count was the same as Black Hawk. They both went to two extremes after the disappearance of the OP Special Operations Team: Black Hawk chose to forget the past and never serve any powerful country again; the Count chose to enter the mercenary world and continue to serve various countries, including the United States, but he was a submissive venomous snake and would pounce on it and bite it hard once he had the chance.
Perhaps this was the purpose of the Count's admonition to Black Hawk. He wanted Black Hawk to choose the same way as him and explode under forbearance.
"What is your intention in saving me?" Zhao Ziyang asked, staring into the Earl's vicious eyes.
"I saved you so that you can live!" The Earl said to Zhao Ziyang without hiding anything: "I want you to lead the Lurkers and develop them into the most powerful mercenary group in the world. I will do my best to help you, but you must agree to one condition of mine."
“Hahahaha…” Zhao Ziyang laughed loudly, shook his head disdainfully and said to the Earl: “I, Zhao Ziyang, don’t make deals in exchange for conditions. Even without your help, I can still stand up again with the Lurkers!”
Confidence, arrogance, and strength, this is the aura Zhao Ziyang exudes at this moment.
Just when he saw Black Hawk's death, Zhao Ziyang had already thought about this. The Lurker cannot be finished, the Lurker must continue, this is what the leader wants to see.
A strange look flashed in the earl's eyes, and he stared at Zhao Ziyang for a long time.
"I understand why Phillips likes you so much. You are the same person as the Dragon Rider."
"Oh, Dragon Rider?" Zhao Ziyang frowned when he heard the name.
"General Dragon Rider, General Dragon Rider..." The Earl smiled and recalled, "General Dragon Rider is our OP's captain, a Chinese. He is the world's top special forces soldier, no one can surpass him..."
Chinese?! The captain of the world's most powerful OP combat team is actually Chinese?
Almost at the moment the Earl finished speaking, Zhao Ziyang knew why Black Hawk was so nice to him and why the Earl looked mischievous when he saw him. It turned out that their former captain was a Chinese, a special forces soldier code-named Dragon Rider.
The helicopter landed in a large courtyard in the Black Town. Gurkha mercenaries were standing guard at the gate and around the courtyard.
These Gurkha mercenaries are not tall, but their thin faces reveal a strong sense of toughness. The most conspicuous thing is the Nepalese knives on their backs, which is the heritage of the Gurkha and one of their symbols.
Nepalese knives are medium-length offensive weapons and the national sword of Nepal. In ancient times, warriors who had made military achievements could be rewarded with their names engraved on them. This custom has been passed down to the present day and has become a spirit. When fighting with the enemy, Gurkha warriors only need to draw their knives to immediately possess unparalleled courage, speed and power.
The entire scimitar is 52 cm long and the handle is 15 cm long. It is made entirely by hand. An ordinary scimitar requires four skilled craftsmen for a whole day to make.
The blade is rough in shape and is a super clean and efficient weapon in combat, capable of cutting off a person's thigh with ease .
After taking a few glances at the Gurkha mercenary's scimitar, Zhao Ziyang followed the count into the house.
"Special forces, in fact, when Phillips came to me for help that day, I asked all the mercenaries to come to this black town to cooperate with you in the battle." The count patted the sofa, asked Zhao Ziyang to sit down, and brought out a glass of water and handed it to Zhao Ziyang.
Zhao Ziyang had no doubts about this. He knew the Gurkha mercenaries were very swift and decisive. Once an order was given, it would be executed immediately without any discount. At this moment, he had a question in his mind: why was the Count who was with Black Hawk not in any trouble?
"Were you with the captain at that time?" Zhao Ziyang drank the water in one gulp, wiped his mouth and asked the count.
When asked this question, the Earl immediately understood what Zhao Ziyang meant by this question.
"I work for the US military, while Phillips is working against the US government." The count said this briefly and did not continue.
Zhao Ziyang had already heard what the earl wanted to express from his words, and he felt deep sympathy for the earl.
What is little known about the Earl's life behind the glorious life is that he is living a miserable life like a dog of the United States. He is even indifferent when his closest comrades are captured and killed in front of him.
But Zhao Ziyang knew that this was just an appearance. If the Earl was an American dog, he would definitely be a seemingly docile mad dog. He would not bite people at ordinary times, but would open his bloody mouth and bite his master at critical moments.
The Earl lives a very tiring life, so tiring that he doesn't even realize it.
"You should go to Africa," the count suggested.
Most African countries are filled with wars all year round, and it is a place where mercenaries live and multiply. Even the United States cannot extend its tentacles deep into Africa and can only use mercenaries to accomplish their series of goals.
Africa will become the best stage for lurkers. There is a lack of everything there except excellent soldiers. As long as you have money, there will be countless black soldiers who will fight for you.
Zhao Ziyang nodded. He also thought that Africa was an excellent place to go.
"Oh, by the way." The Earl seemed to remember something and said to Zhao Ziyang, "The Defender Mercenaries have a base in Black Town. I think you are more interested."
Zhao Ziyang's eyes lit up when he heard this. He stood up from the sofa and asked in a deep voice, "Where is it?"
"Black Town Satellite Receiver." The Count tapped the table lightly and continued to say to Zhao Ziyang, "Do you think the sudden appearance of the defenders behind you is accidental? No, they have high-definition satellite images provided by the US military, and they have control over your every move in the position."
"Also, all the other members of your Lurkers were ambushed by the Defenders, including your underground military base on the Gold Coast."
"I need a weapon." Zhao Ziyang said to the Earl quickly, then pointed to a Nepalese machete hanging on the wall and said, "I want it!"
This Nepalese machete is completely black and does not reflect light even when placed under the sun. You can tell at a glance that it is definitely not an ordinary item.
The count took off the Nepalese machete, wiped it gently with extreme care, sighed and handed it to Zhao Ziyang.
"Take it. This Nepalese saber may only be used by you Chinese."
As he picked up the saber, a bone-chilling coldness spread from the palm of his hand to every pore of his body. Along with the coldness came a bloodthirsty aura of murder, which made Zhao Ziyang feel a tremendous desire to fight.
There is a dragon character engraved on the handle of the saber, which looks domineering and arrogant.
"Is it okay for me to re-melt it?" Zhao Ziyang stared at the saber.
"No problem." The count smiled and said to him, "It doesn't matter what shape the knife becomes. What matters is the person who uses the knife."
With saber in his arms, Zhao Ziyang entered the Gurkha garrison arsenal under the guidance of the count. He wanted to do something earth-shattering, to make the defenders remember the madness of the lurkers and remember that he, Zhao Ziyang, would never give up a single grudge!
