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**In mountainous regions where no roads exist, physical endurance is the most critical factor affecting movement speed.**
The faster you move, the more stamina you burn.
And as long as your stamina is strong enough, you can maintain a high-speed advance for longer without needing rest—naturally increasing your march speed.
Long Zhan, infamous within Bravo Team for his monstrous physical capabilities, could sustain a steady jog throughout the entire trek.
Whether it was cliffs over ten meters high, mountain slopes steeper than 40 degrees, rocky and jagged foothills, or deep ravines seven to eight meters deep—
None of it posed any significant obstacle to Long Zhan. He advanced almost entirely in a parkour-like fashion.
It took him less than fifteen minutes to reach the "Heineken waypoint" two kilometers away. Including the post-comm check communication and the prep time for speaking—
There was still plenty of time to spare.
Long Zhan waited roughly five to six minutes before a Hornet fighter jet streaked in at high speed. Flying about 200 meters above the Heineken waypoint, it released a long, capsule-shaped object from a hook under its wing.
The moment it dropped, a drogue chute deployed, quickly expanding into a large mushroom-shaped canopy.
Due to the high-speed release and the resulting inertia, the equipment didn't fall directly onto the waypoint but instead drifted northeastward.
"A fighter jet drop?"
Long Zhan was a bit surprised at first but quickly understood. Using a fighter was indeed more convenient than a bomber, and much faster.
A fighter's underwing pylons can be used to hook on a retrofitted equipment container with ease.
The downside is that it drops like a bomb. The equipment pod has no propulsion system of its own, and high-speed release often leads to significant drift due to inertia.
If the wind takes it off-course and it lands in some godforsaken corner...
Finding it would be a real pain.
Fortunately, Long Zhan had arrived early and witnessed the entire airdrop process.
As the equipment box floated through the air, Long Zhan chased it on foot below.
After running more than 300 meters northeast, the pod finally drifted into a small patch of forest. The parachute caught on a tree branch, suspending the box in mid-air.
It hung less than two meters from the ground—providing both shock absorption and easy access.
The height was, frankly, perfect.
The equipment container was a repurposed artillery shell casing, stuffed with shock-absorbing materials. Secured at the center was a half-meter-wide black leather case.
On the outside was a label: **Laser Target Designator**, along with its model and a brief description.
Ground-based guidance was part of the special operations mission profile. Long Zhan was intimately familiar with this kit. After confirming the container showed no signs of impact, there was no need to open and inspect it further.
He picked up the case and began the return leg.
With the critical targeting equipment in hand, Christenson at the Olett Operations Command Center convened a pre-mission meeting with all involved units.
The operation had shifted from a night assault to a daytime strike, requiring coordination across numerous departments and units.
These included—but were not limited to—the QRF squadron, Air Force units, various logistics elements, and more.
Even something as specific as the type of bombing had to be coordinated—whether to use laser-guided bombs, air-to-ground missiles, or other surface-launched ordnance.
The type of bombing had to be finalized before the next communications window, in order to synchronize with Murphy's team.
There was a mountain of tasks to complete, yet Christenson only allotted three hours for preparation—an extremely tight deadline.
Were it not for the concern that Shah might escape, they wouldn't have compressed the timeline so aggressively.
Under normal procedures, this level of preparation would take at least five hours.
At Olett Operations Command, everything was running at full throttle in preparation for the direct action to come. Murphy's team, having assumed they were in a lull, suddenly found themselves hit with a new twist.
As if cursed, a new complication arose the moment they had a moment of calm.
There was no such thing as peace on this mission.
When Christenson approved daytime action for Murphy's team, he made it explicitly clear: **no matter what it takes, the recon team must delay Shah.**
Murphy hadn't taken it seriously at first. After all, the intel was fabricated—how could anything really happen?
But then...
Just as Long Zhan successfully retrieved the laser designator and the team finally relaxed, confident that all that remained was to wait for the main force—
Two trucks rolled into Kataku village, and the armed fighters inside the village suddenly kicked into high gear.
Matt was the first to notice the irregularity. Murphy rushed to the cliffside and used a high-magnification scope, clearly observing Taliban fighters loading supplies onto the trucks.
Though it was unclear what they were planning, the situation was clearly developing in an ominous direction.
It seemed...
Long Zhan's offhand fabricated intel was morphing into real intel right before their eyes.
"What the hell—does my damn mouth cast spells or something?"
Seeing the bizarre scene unfold, Long Zhan was at a complete loss. It felt like a thousand wild horses were stampeding through his brain.
Murphy, Marcus, and the others all turned to look at Long Zhan with a new expression in their eyes.
Say it, and it happens? This was beyond uncanny.
If Shah really was preparing to relocate, the team was under strict orders from Christenson: **ensure Shah stays put for three hours.** That meant they could no longer afford to sit tight and wait for the main force.
What was originally a stealth recon mission with no engagement...
Might now turn into a direct assault.
And it would be a **five-man** team taking on **over 200** Taliban fighters—more than a 40-to-1 manpower disadvantage.
Sure, they had the initiative and wouldn't be stuck in a defensive posture like they would if ambushed—
But with that kind of numerical gap, the battle was destined to be dangerous and brutal. One slip-up could mean total annihilation.
"Let's hope they're just moving supplies. If not, everyone get ready—we might be going to war."
Murphy didn't want to risk the squad in a suicide mission, but the order had been passed down. Even if they wanted to pull out now, it was too late.
Failing to engage would be treated as cowardice in battle, and the punishment wouldn't be much better than desertion.
Besides—
They bore the honor of being **SEAL special operatives.** That alone meant they couldn't back down now, not because of fear.
"No need to get that nervous," Long Zhan said with a trace of optimism. "We're carrying enough ammo to hold out for at least an hour."
He didn't consider their current situation to be dire just yet.
Challenging, risky—but not enough to scare him.
"There's still more than two hours before the strike," Marcus said with a wry smile. "An hour might not cut it. If I'd known this would happen, I would've packed an entire crate of ammo."
Dietz rolled his eyes and sighed. "Let's just pray Shah sticks around the village for another hour. I have *zero* interest in brawling with these guys."
"Brother, let's hope your prayers get heard," Matt said, clapping Dietz on the shoulder before raising the scope again to stay locked in on Kataku village.
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