1048: Chapter One thousand thirty-two What Sort of Ridiculous Names Are These?
1048: Chapter One thousand thirty-two What Sort of Ridiculous Names Are These?
For a soldier, is there any personal gesture heavier than giving one’s own standard-issue firearm to someone else?
There is none, absolutely none.
Peter held the pistol out in front of Gao Yang, but after a glance, Gao Yang immediately shook his head and said, “I don’t want it, you keep it for yourself.
Just get me a new one next time.”
Peter’s pistol showed clear signs of use, indicating that it was his regularly carried standard-issue sidearm, not one temporarily picked up for a mission.
Gao Yang would never give his pistol to anyone, absolutely not.
Unless he was dead and his pistol taken from him, at least before his death, he would not give his pistol to anyone.
A gun is a soldier’s second life.
Of course, the same principle applies to mercenaries, and a pistol is a soldier’s last line of defense, used to save their life in the final moment.
While a rifle may sometimes be set aside, a pistol is a weapon that is never put down if it can be carried.
So there is no weapon closer to a soldier than their pistol.
Gao Yang refused Peter’s gift not because the pistol was old and worn, which showed that it was Peter’s primary weapon, and that carried a different significance.
So it wasn’t that Gao detested the used gun; he just felt unworthy of it, since it wasn’t him who saved Palyuka.
Peter didn’t take the pistol back but said sternly, “Keep it, as a memento.”
Peter spoke lightly, yet that pistol was his standard-issue sidearm, his last line of defense, not a spare, not a captured firearm, nor one casually bought.
Gao Yang still felt he couldn’t accept it.
Shaking his head, he said, “Forget about it.
Just get me a new one later.
You keep this one.
Different guns are roughly the same, but it’s different when you’ve got to this point with one.
I’d be uncomfortable switching to another.”
Who knows what others may think, but Gao Yang always felt that guns are alive, especially for a sharpshooter.
People choose guns, guns also choose people.
The same model of gun feels different to shoot each time, even two brand-new guns from the same model – one might feel great in hand, while the other never feels right no matter what.
To say guns are living things might be too idealistic.
From a materialistic perspective, though generally similar, guns definitely have slight variations—subtle differences imperceptible to the average person.
To a sharpshooter, those differences could feel as vast as heaven and earth, an unbearable discrepancy.
That’s why Gao Yang would never give away any gun he’s gotten used to – neither a sniper rifle, a shotgun, nor a pistol.
So Gao Yang couldn’t accept Peter’s handgun.
To him, it would be just another piece to add to his gun cabinet, but to Peter, it might be his second life.
Peter was stubborn, holding the pistol grip out in front of Gao Yang again: “Take it, as a keepsake.”
With a wry smile, Gao Yang said, “Buddy, just get me a new one.
Why give me your standard-issue, right?
We both know what that means.
There’s no need, really no need.”
Gao Yang pushed Peter’s hand back, and after Peter pushed it back again, he said in a deep voice, “I’m not good with words, I don’t know what to say right now.
Other than giving you this gun, I can’t think of any other way to express myself, buddy.
Palyuka means more to me than this pistol.”
Gao Yang took the pistol, because upon serious reflection, he realized that he might indeed give away his own standard-issue gun under certain circumstances, so he accepted it.
If someone could have saved Bruce on the brink of death, anyone, as long as Bruce could be brought back, Gao Yang would be willing to give all his belongings to that person.
Gao Yang took the pistol and after examining it in his hands, nodded to Peter and said, “It’s a very nice gun, thank you.”
Peter took off the holster, pulled out two magazines and said with a smile, “This magazine is loaded with 7N21 armor-piercing bullets.
I’ll send you some more bullets, magazines, and the like when we get back.”
At this time, one of Peter’s companions spoke to Li Jinfang, “Which one do you like?
I’ll give you mine, my friend, thank you, thank all of you.”
Li Jinfang nodded, took the Yarygin handgun and said solemnly, “Thank you, I’ll treasure it.”
Peter smiled and said, “I never thought that fighting you could save my best friend’s life; how should I put it, that’s the arrangement of fate, I guess.”
Indeed, it was quite fortuitous.
If Peter had not fought with Li Jinfang, neither of them would have dislocated each other’s joints.
If not for the dislocation, they wouldn’t have returned to the hospital, and if they hadn’t returned, Andy He certainly wouldn’t have come, and then Palyuka would have likely died.
After Peter sighed and marveled at this coincidence for a while, he lifted his head to Li Jinfang and said loudly, “Hey, friend, I still don’t know your name.”
Li Jinfang said in a deep voice, “I’m called Toad, yes, like a frog.”
Peter looked at Gao Yang, who spread his hands and said, “Alright, I might as well make a proper introduction.
I’m called Ram, he’s Toad, and he’s Dragon Knight.”
Although they had spent some time together, Gao Yang and Peter had never exchanged actual names.
At this, the group of Russians looked at each other, perplexed.
Since Gao Yang had introduced them, it was only right that Peter’s group should introduce themselves as well.
After a moment of wry laughter, Peter finally said with an odd expression, “Well, um, my name is Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky…”
Gao Yang was both irritated and amused; his girlfriend was Russian and studied music.
Even if he was ignorant about a lot of things, he knew the name Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky—it was the name of Russia’s greatest composer.
Somehow Gao Yang thought of Ludwig and laughed, “In that case, my name would be Ludwig van Beethoven.”
Gao Yang was obviously joking, but one of the men who came with Peter said with a curious expression, “Well, I am, um…
my name’s Lev…
Lev Tolstoy.”
A great composer, a great writer, Gao Yang was utterly speechless.
He spread his hands and said, “So, your names are like our codenames, right?”
Peter nodded with a wry smile, “Yes, these are our codenames during missions.
As for our names, umm, there are too many issues involved.
We can’t reveal them.
It’s strictly forbidden.
Maybe we can tell you after we leave Syria.”
Gao Yang waved his hand, “I understand, I was just joking earlier, no worries.”
At this moment, someone from the team with Palyuka coughed lightly and then said with a bitter smile, “My name’s Babanov.”
Another one followed, “I am Babalyev.”
“Babakayev.”
“Babayev.”
“Babanolyev.”
First, the series of greats, then a series of names that no one but Russians could distinguish.
After a bunch of people introduced themselves, people in the stern crowd finally started to laugh lightly.
Gao Yang had given up on trying to match the names to faces and just shrugged his shoulders with a smile, “We need to get going.
Peter, what are your plans?”
Peter looked towards the direction of the operating room, gritted his teeth, and sighed, “Still have a mission, can’t wait any longer.
Besides, there’s no use staying here.”
After saying that, Peter said to one of the Baban names, “I might not be able to visit Palyuka for a long time, inform me immediately if there’s any change.”
After he received a response, Peter said to Gao Yang, “Let’s go.”
Andy He carried three quick-release holster on his belt, and the rest of the pistols were placed in his backpack, waiting to board the helicopter.
Then, Andy He drew a pistol from the holster on his belt and handed it to Farouk, saying, “This is for you, as a keepsake.”
Farouk happily accepted.
This was a special issue pistol from Signal Flag, a great piece.
After giving one to Farouk, Andy He drew another pistol and gave it to Gilanor, saying, “This one’s yours.”
Lastly, Andy He handed a pistol to Dani with a smile, “One for everybody.”
Dani was thrilled; he was also from the intelligence unit.
The compact yet high-capacity eighteen-round GSH-18 pistol was very suitable for him, especially since it was a Signal Flag special issue weapon.
Once the pistols from the quick-release holsters were distributed, Andy He patted his waist and said with a smile, “I’ll get you the magazines when we’re back.
Boss, are you sure you don’t want one?”
Gao Yang patted the Yarygin pistol that Peter had given him and laughed, “I have this one, and I’ve always thought the GSH-18 is too ugly.”
Andy He shrugged, “It’s not bad, I think the GSH-18 is uniquely ugly.
Alright, you guys chat, I need to catch some z’s.”
Andy He leaned his head against the vibrating walls of the helicopter and immediately fell asleep.
He was exhausted.
The surgery had taken a huge toll on him physically and even more so mentally.
Peter watched Andy He sleep then suddenly said to Gao Yang, “Your medic?
Having a doctor like him by your side, you must feel very fortunate.
You guys are really lucky.”
Gao Yang nodded, “Indeed, we are very fortunate, and we really are lucky.”
Gao Yang didn’t tell Peter that if someone in his own team weren’t dead, then they would be the lucky ones.
After a moment of silence, Peter asked Gao Yang again, “You seem to know who attacked my friend, am I right?”
Gao Yang sighed, “It’s just a guess.
Whether it’s accurate needs to be proven by intelligence.
Don’t worry, I already said I will tell you when I can.
What would you do with that knowledge, though?
Seek revenge for your friend?
Can you even get away from your mission?”
Peter furrowed his brows and spoke sternly, “If I find a way, maybe it’s possible.
There’s always a chance in knowing the enemy – if you don’t even know who your enemy is, then you truly have no chance at all.”
Gao Yang shrugged, “Alright, you might not have to wait long to see if you can go or not, but I’ll inform you when I act.” (To be continued.
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