786: Chapter 777 Disguise 786: Chapter 777 Disguise After firing a shot, Gao Yang unsurprisingly received a barrage in return, but he had already moved to a new shooting position before the enemy could accurately determine his location.
The wounded Tuareg man was already very close to Gao, less than fifty meters away, but in the jungle, this was the most common firefight range.
The African jungle and the Americas jungle are definitely different.
The forest where Gao was located belonged to the subtropical forest, but not yet to the tropical rainforest; he would need to travel at least a hundred kilometers further east to enter the real rainforest.
Therefore, the subtropical forest where Gao was did not have as dense vegetation, either in terms of trees or underbrush, compared to the rainforests of Colombia.
Gao now started to feel grateful to Lucica; without Lucica teaching him how to fight in the jungle, his combat effectiveness would have been greatly reduced.
Although Gao was not very familiar with jungle warfare, nor was he completely unfamiliar with it, he was confident that his ability to fight in the jungle was stronger than those Tuareg people.
The Tuareg people are a typical desert race; if the battlefield were in the desert, Gao’s chances of winning would be slim.
However, in the jungle environment, he might be more familiar with it than those Tuareg people.
After finding some confidence boosters for himself, Gao no longer moved but just focused on his enemy.
The Tuareg man who had been shot began to move.
Gao couldn’t see the person but could see the occasional movement of the plants on the ground.
After a long standoff, neither side made any moves.
It was at this moment that he heard someone shouting loudly; the noise was significant, but he didn’t understand what they were saying.
Gao didn’t understand the language of the Tuareg people, but thanks to his experience fighting alongside the Sandstorm Mercenary Corps, he knew what the Tuareg would say when they attacked.
So, when Gao heard the Tuareg suddenly shouting to attack, he immediately perked up, ready to face the upcoming assault.
At least twenty people emerged at the same time, and Gao’s eyes widened.
He didn’t dare to take this rare opportunity to shoot, though.
Gao was confident he could kill at least one person, two would be difficult but possible under safe conditions.
However, he couldn’t possibly shoot down three in a row, and the reason he ran without firing a shot was that even if three enemies died, there would be enough left to riddle him with bullets.
If the enemy was skilled, one must give them the respect they deserve.
Treating an expert as a rookie was asking for trouble.
Gao didn’t want to be caught by an old Tuareg man with a well-aimed shot, nor did he want to be trapped by a net of gunfire after revealing his position.
When it’s time to fight, fight; when it’s time to run, run.
Running isn’t shameful; what’s shameful is wanting to run but being unable to, and that can cost a life.
Gao ran off, hunched over and sprinting, using the vegetation for cover.
At the start of his escape, he wasn’t worried about being seen.
Although he might have revealed his position, putting distance between them would ensure enough safety.
With Gao’s sprint, he quickly covered more than a hundred meters.
He ran at a diagonal to the path of the retreating laborers, so by the time he had covered a hundred meters or so, the Tuareg people had reached his previous hiding spot.
Uncertain whether the enemy had discovered his escape route, Gao had to make them aware of him.
Stopping behind a large tree, Gao spotted a Tuareg man slowly searching the area through the trees.
Raising his gun, he took the enemy down with a short burst of fire and immediately ran to the side.
The men all covered their faces with veils while the women did not, a custom of the Tuareg people that extremely annoyed Gao, for a simple reason: he couldn’t tell from the outside appearance which one was the old man he most wanted to take down.
Completely identical black robes and veils meant that once they changed positions, Gao had no idea which one posed the greatest threat to him.
To figure it out, he’d have to take a few more shots.
So even though he had killed a Tuareg man, he had no idea whether he had taken out a rookie or a formidable character.
Sighing helplessly, Gao resigned himself to firing another shot at the crowd before turning and running once more.
It had shifted from a standoff to a game of hide and seek, and not just any hide and seek, because Gao couldn’t allow the enemy to lose track of him; he had to keep them on the hook.
Getting too close was too dangerous, yet getting too far risked losing the enemy following him.
Being the bait was not only dangerous for Gao but also quite troublesome.
After running forward for a stretch, Gao Yang halted.
He wanted to see if the enemy was still on his tail, but just as he was about to peek out from behind a tree, a bullet whizzed past, knocking off a chunk of bark less than five centimeters above his head—had the shot been a few centimeters lower, his skull would have been blown open.
Startled, Gao Yang flopped to the ground with a thud, no longer caring if the contents of his pack were crushed.
His collapse wasn’t out of fear; lying down was simply the fastest way to drop to cover.
Gao Yang knew that the bullet had missed not because of luck but because he had intentionally ducked lower while peeking out.
Normally, the bullet that grazed the tree would have hit him squarely between the eyes.
The Tuareg sniper had memorized his height and his habitual observation posture and had pre-set the firing point accordingly.
If Gao Yang hadn’t intentionally changed the level at which he peered out, he would have walked right into a deadly trap.
An expert, truly an expert, a dangerously sharp shooter.
With this realization, as soon as Gao Yang dropped to the ground and out of the enemy’s view, he rolled over and, using hands and feet, scrambled to one side before immediately getting on all fours and sprinting away.
It was an ignominious escape, but in war, who doesn’t take a hit while dishing them out?
Moreover, to escape in such a sorry state and live to tell the tale was a skill in itself.
During combat, when evasion and stealth are required, maintaining an elegant posture while dodging bullets is pure fantasy.
Speaking of fantasies, it’s utter folly to think that one can simply duck behind a small tree or slide behind cover with no protective value and emerge unscathed, like in the movies.
Anyone who entered the battlefield with such ideas was now a ghost.
With his heart now pounding wildly, Gao Yang was certain that the Tuareg were intent on ignoring their hired help just to catch and kill him.
Telling a Tuareg about the “bigger picture” was a joke to them; avenging their kin and friends to the death was their only creed.
He needed to find a place suitable for concealment, so in fact, Gao Yang hadn’t run very far.
After hiding behind some tropical plants with wide leaves that resembled banana trees, Gao Yang, now kneeling on one knee, decided he had to stop fleeing.
He had to put some pressure on the enemy and give them more incentive to chase him.
After halting, Gao Yang listened for any movement.
When he heard no footsteps, he slowly peeked his head out from the base of the plants and saw an enemy soldier—who wasn’t a Tuareg—at the same moment they spotted each other.
Both Gao Yang and his adversary were taken aback, neither expecting to be so close.
But Gao Yang’s reaction was much quicker than that of the black soldier.
With two shots, he downed his foe.
Instead of rolling away, Gao Yang crouched and bolted toward the nearest tree, uncertain if it was just one person who had approached within thirty meters or if all the enemy were at that range.
The lack of gunfire he had feared most didn’t come, which meant that the black soldier had been too rash.
Gao Yang couldn’t help but heave a sigh of relief; he had known it all along—the Tuareg, old and slippery like loaches, would never take the risk of getting so close where it was incredibly dangerous and failed to exploit their advantage in gunmanship.
Generally, the Tuareg elders preferred a distance between fifty and two hundred meters, where they could make the most of their superb marksmanship and rapid fire.
An AK series rifle could ensure accuracy at that range, but any further and the precision became questionable.
The encounter with that bullet made Gao Yang realize that one of his enemies, a Tuareg elder, also favored shooting between the eyes like he did.
It was one thing to aim for the brow; but to do so after predicting where the target would be signified staggering confidence.
Targets between the eyes were usually the choice of a shooter extremely confident in their gunmanship.
Common in movies, but rare on the battlefield.
In situations where he was sure of his shot, Gao Yang often aimed for the brow.
Today, he had met someone with equal confidence.
As the battle intensified and he realized how formidable his opponents were, he couldn’t resist a wry smile.
Now, he felt that his “revenge makeup” was somewhat ill-timed.
The white line on his red face was a conspicuous target in the green jungle, but at least, his clothing was somewhat appropriate for concealment: a khaki quick-dry shirt, military green trousers, and khaki combat boots.
While khaki wasn’t the best camouflage color for the jungle, it was still less eye-catching than a red and white-painted face.
At a disadvantage, he needed to seek an upper hand.
When it came to gunmanship, Gao Yang felt he should be stronger than the Tuareg, but with their numbers—and quality—his advantage in shooting wouldn’t play out or even have much of a chance to surface.
So, he needed to search for other advantages.
Compared to the Tuareg, Gao Yang had significant strengths in many aspects, but, unfortunately, under the current circumstances, not many could be utilized.
There was no high-tech equipment available for him, nor weapons capable of turning the tide.
Gao Yang could only make the best of the situation and make effective use of what was available, such as camouflage.
(To be continued.
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