Mercenary’s War

Two missiles, one with a single warhead, the other with a cluster warhead, all landed accurately within the military camp. Hammer was very satisfied.

Although the cluster warhead was designed to strike armored groups, using it against a military camp wasn’t quite appropriate, but Hammer knew that since they only had two missile launchers and needed to be ready for all types of targets, having both missiles prepared simultaneously was essential. It was almost impossible to switch them out temporarily, so the cluster warhead was fired, waste or otherwise, what does it matter?

For the war in Yemen, the extent of damage these two missiles caused was secondary. The political impact they created, the psychological blow to the enemy, that’s what’s important.

It’s about letting the Saudi people know that the Houthis Armed Forces have now upgraded.

It’s about letting the Gulf Cooperation Council soldiers know that nowhere is safe.

Hammer didn’t know how long this proxy war in Yemen would last. Until the last drop of Yemeni blood is shed, until Saudi Arabia and Iran’s treasuries are exhausted, this war won’t stop.

So Hammer was really satisfied.

Satisfied with what?

Satisfied that Gao Yang would decidedly continue to lead their men with efficiency, stopping to strike whenever an opportunity presented itself, which indeed matched his preference, making Hammer very satisfied.

Satisfied with how accurately and quickly the Missile Troopers launched their missiles, precisely hitting the intended targets. That’s what Missile Troopers should be like, and it must be satisfying.

However, the aspect that satisfied Hammer the most, or perhaps made him proud, was that he provided the target, discovered the military camp’s location, and he alone could observe the damage effects.

Of course, the location of this military camp wasn’t a big secret; anyone paying attention could find it, but Hammer was proud that only he had infiltrated it, not some Tarta or Glewatov.

The military camp was sizeable, covering at least tens of thousands of square meters, and the missile could only fire two shots at a time, one of which was a cluster warhead. So, only one missile could cause significant personnel damage, enough to blow a building sky-high with a boom.

Therefore, finding the crucial position within the vast military camp and guiding them was key.

To pinpoint the most critical target, close reconnaissance is best. The closer to the enemy, the more detail can be observed—this is a truth that holds even in this era of satellites in space and reconnaissance aircraft in the sky.

Satellites or reconnaissance aircraft, manned or unmanned alike, they cannot identify whether a person in civilian clothes is a General or a low-ranking soldier.

Some things still require human effort.

Last time at the airport, Tarta beat him to success, and Hammer was unhappy, so he set his sights on this military camp.

Hammer knew he wasn’t the only one eyeing the camp; that old scoundrel Tarta was also targeting it. But while Tarta was still figuring out how to infiltrate the camp for reconnaissance, Hammer had already made up his mind to sneak in the fastest way possible.

Infiltrating a military camp is truly not an easy task, and it’s especially dangerous, but what is the Black Demon afraid of in such matters?

So while Tarta was devising plans and preparing disguise techniques and other tricks, Hammer walked in under broad daylight.

While observing the camp, Hammer noticed a few people coming out of what seemed to be a heavily guarded camp, and they didn’t quite look like camp personnel but more like technical staff from within.

So Hammer set his sights on them.

Then, a marvelous thing happened—they split up, so Hammer followed one of them. And subsequently, it was about finding an opportunity.

He asked what needed to be asked, then knocked the person out with a hammer blow, changed into their clothes, took their ID, and then swaggered through the camp gate.

The Gulf Cooperation Council is not all wealthy nations; there are a few poor ones too. However, whether it’s the UAE leading as the main force or Saudi Arabia gathering its subordinates to cheer in Yemen, their soldiers are treated like big shots. How could they let soldiers do repairs and barracks construction themselves?

Hence, even though the camp appeared heavily guarded, it bustled with people like a marketplace. As long as you had an ID, you could come and go freely.

Hammer didn’t even bother changing the name on the stolen ID, just altered the photo and strolled into the camp.

Wearing a robe, with a turban, a leather pouch at his waist carrying a hammer, wrench, pliers, and a screwdriver, and a walkie-talkie conveniently attached to his belt.

Hammer thought the Sentinels would at least search him, so guns were out of the question, but having a hammer and wrench was enough as weapons.

As it turned out, the Sentinels merely checked his ID and gave him a cursory search, just going through the motions really.

Once inside the camp, Hammer started wandering around, with a walkie-talkie on his belt set to the frequency of a UAE Construction Team within the camp. When he felt the need to say something, he’d switch the frequency, and through Yake’s controlled radio, he could communicate with Gao Yang anytime, just like that.

Oh, and Hammer also had a mobile phone in his pocket.

He wandered back and forth undisturbed, until nightfall, when he sauntered over to a construction team’s vicinity working overnight.

Hammer didn’t say anything, he just stood aside observing. Observing what? Watching those foreign laborers from Pakistan and Bangladesh diligently constructing a new barracks.

Standing by the construction site, Hammer would occasionally speak into the walkie-talkie. Believe it or not, he was giving coordinate data to the Missile Troopers, and as a result, those foreign workers hired by the Shah became noticeably more diligent.

By night, all necessary data was reported, everything that needed saying had been said, and then Hammer began assigning tasks to the workers, instructing one and commanding another; even a foreman in a similar robe specially praised him several times for being such a dedicated engineer directing work overnight.

Until a missile suddenly exploded nearby, sending those overnight laborers into a frenzy, and Hammer’s mood skyrocketed to the utmost.

The strike was executed not only successfully but, more importantly, to great satisfaction.

The blast occurred at a safe distance; Hammer certainly didn’t wish to be obliterated by the missile he’d called in, so he, like everyone else, hit the ground until soldiers, panicked and anxious, ran over.

Those soldiers didn’t come to catch espionage agents; they came to have the construction team dig open the collapsed officer’s quarters—there might still be some breathing survivors inside.

Why the construction team? Because they have excavators, loaders, and impact drills, all engineering equipment—simple logic, really.

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