Chapter 39: One Against Many
On the scorching Sahara Desert,
battered by fierce winds and blazing sun, the sand was so hot that a person walking barefoot would be burned alive in minutes.
Amidst this sweltering heat, a jet-black ATV roared past like a dark stallion galloping across a golden plain!
Dust billowed in its wake.
The rider of this machine was none other than Jake.
Following the directions given by the proprietor, he drove at full speed, not even bothering to return to the real world for relief when the heat became unbearable, continuing his journey.
Soon, several speeding vehicles appeared in the distance.
The vehicles were moving at breakneck speed, accompanied by loud gunshots.
Raiders.
Jake smiled, stopped, and vanished in a flash. When he reappeared, his outfit had completely changed.
He now wore a tactical vest, protective gear, two Browning pistols holstered at his thighs, and grenades secured to his chest.
He also carried two submachine guns.
Moreover, there was a long weapons case strapped to the back of the ATV.
These were all items he'd acquired from Yuri. Yuri, full of confidence about his Soviet Union venture, had been generous to Jake, his friend who'd brought valuable intelligence, though the prices certainly weren't cheap.
Soon, vehicles pulled up in front of Jake. They stopped, and four armed men quickly jumped out, each carrying weapons.
"Don't move!" the four men shouted, pointing their guns at Jake.
Jake ignored them completely, instead peering into one vehicle and spotting an elderly man sitting inside.
He knew he'd found the right person.
Thanks to that greedy hotel proprietor; the money had been well spent.
These people weren't strictly speaking desert raiders, but rather mercenaries. However, like raiders, they operated in the desert, so Jake tentatively categorized them together.
The old man, disabled in both legs, was the one who knew the location of the base where the gold was hidden, but he didn't have the key and couldn't access the treasure alone.
The mercenary crew he'd hired to help were nothing but trigger-happy amateurs.
Having identified his target, Jake's next move was decisive; without warning, he opened fire!
In a firefight, why give the enemy advantage, especially a group of ruthless mercs?
RAT-A-TAT-TAT—!!
His submachine guns instantly spat out streams of fire, impossible to ignore even in the blinding sunlight.
Bullets struck the sand, kicking up plumes more than six feet high.
He rolled away, dodging the return fire.
He'd never tried a gunfight where one person took on multiple opponents in open terrain.
This was an exposed area, the distance between both sides was very close, and both were armed. If they remained stationary and traded fire, casualties were guaranteed.
Jake, fighting four people alone, knew he'd likely be the first to fall if he stayed still.
That's why he created chaos from the start, constantly moving.
BANG!
A bullet grazed his shoulder, striking the desert and leaving a small crater, which was quickly filled by windblown sand.
Before he could even process his close call, while dodging bullets, Jake pulled the trigger in the general direction of the enemy.
A burst of suppressive fire threw the enemy into disarray.
The intense gunfire escalated, and Jake sensed the enemy's firepower growing stronger as reinforcements arrived—their numbers increased from four to six!
Running and rolling across the desert at high speed, Jake's stamina was rapidly depleting.
The rapid firefight had turned into a drawn-out battle.
However, Jake wasn't entirely unsuccessful.
He tossed aside two empty submachine guns, grabbed the pistol from his holster with his right hand, took aim, and fired!
"Argh!" A scream confirmed he'd hit his target.
Ten minutes later,
Jake kicked the kneeling man who had his hands on his head, then forced him to the ground.
"From this moment forward, I'm giving you a choice," he declared, urging the surviving mercenaries to leave while they could.
The mercs naturally resisted, but seeing the pile of their fallen comrades' bodies, they instinctively backed down, not daring to refuse.
In the original storyline, the mercenary crew that had given the protagonists serious trouble was nearly eliminated after Jake used two grenades. The explosive power at such close range was devastating.
The remaining few, upon seeing his RPG launcher, became completely compliant.
With the mercenaries gone, only Jake and the disabled old man remained in the vast desert.
If the location of the base in the original storyline hadn't been so vague, with the surrounding desert providing no landmarks, Jake certainly wouldn't have wasted so much time.
In the end, he could only choose this crude method: first, follow Condor, then the veteran who knew the WWII base location. The reason he didn't stick with Condor was simply because Condor's route was too convoluted. Although the journey had its moments, Jake hated that kind of pointless complication.
"Who are you?" Although Adolf had completely lost his backup, he didn't seem afraid.
"Someone who also wants the gold." Jake picked up a weapon from the ground, quickly fieldstripped it, emptied the sand from the mechanism, and rapidly reassembled it.
Watching Jake's efficient movements, and recalling his previous feat of taking on multiple opponents single-handedly, Adolf's expression became very serious.
"Take me to the base, Adolf." Jake turned the weapon he'd just reassembled and aimed it at Adolf sitting in the vehicle.
Adolf had clearly seen this man load a round!
"Impossible, the gold belongs to me!" He suddenly became defiant. From WWII to now, that treasure had become an obsession.
Jake wasn't intimidated by the suddenly enraged disabled old man. "But your life is in my hands now."
"Then kill me," the old man said with a defiant expression.
Jake smiled slightly, didn't fire, but holstered the weapon and approached Adolf with a knowing look. "You know, there's a guy called Condor. I heard he has a map and a key."
As soon as he said this, Adolf's face changed instantly.
Condor had always been Adolf's target because he couldn't access the base without the key, which was why he'd been tracking Condor all along.
However, their actions had been too conspicuous; anyone they encountered was eliminated, and they ultimately fell into Jake's hands.
Adolf dared to confront Jake and still argue because he knew he controlled the base's location, and the other party wouldn't dare kill him.
But now that Jake knew about Condor, he could easily eliminate Adolf and go find Condor instead. Whether they cooperated or competed would be irrelevant to him, because he'd be dead.
"I don't like complications, that's why I came to you," Jake said again, gesturing to the pile of bodies. "I hope you'll cooperate and not join them."
A strong wind, carrying sand, swept over the bodies, staining the sand dark and the wind itself carrying a metallic scent.
"Okay," Adolf hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "But you have to give me half the gold!"
"I don't make promises I won't keep," Jake said, getting into Adolf's SUV and starting the engine. "So I'll be straight with you—you're not getting a cent."
He didn't care about Adolf's face contorting with anger. This man was a former Nazi soldier who'd become a mercenary leader; he was no innocent. Why bother being diplomatic?
Besides, being honorable is difficult, but being ruthless is incredibly easy.
Now, Jake had simply become a double-crosser, and Adolf sadly discovered he had no power to resist. Whenever he tried to resist with words or actions, the dark, menacing barrel of a weapon would deliver a clear message:
Don't move, or you're done.
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