Meanwhile, on the hillside beside the truck in the rear, several shadows unveiled their disguises and rushed to the side of the truck, killing the driver.
"Da da, da da, da da..."
Amidst the rhythmic light sound of subsonic bullets, the gunmen hadn't had the chance to disengage the safety on their AKs before falling dead among the rapeseed flowers like they were swept by a whip.
The low penetration power of the bullets didn't even result in a bloody scene; everything happened in silence.
Mahmud saw through the rearview mirror that someone had cleared the drivers of the convoy and was closing in on him. When he picked up the phone in an attempt to call for help, a still-hot silencer was pressed against his head...
"Don't have any funny ideas; let me see your hands..."
Mahmud looked at 'Radar', who had oil paint on his face, and bitterly dropped the phone, placing his hands on the window, saying, "Who are you? SSG?
