The Wolf of Los Angeles-Chapter 433: The Threat of Old Godmother, No Retreat Only Advance

He privately cursed Gurg for the unreliable intel; this enemy firepower was no mere bodyguard detail but a full military force.

Who brings machine guns on a bodyguard mission?

"Fire!" Mousad ordered. "Suppress them!"

The men on the ground opened fire in return.

But the camp was pitch black; they couldn't see the enemy positions.

They fired blindly, focusing on suppressive fire rather than precise hits, to keep the enemy from shooting freely.

Rifles were raised overhead, triggers pulled, creating a continuous roar of gunfire.

...

Bullets zipped by as Hawke and his group scattered behind dirt mounds for cover.

Guti brought over an M249, quickly firing bursts into the flare-lit area.

On the camp side, everyone used vehicles and dirt mounds for cover, firing back.

Both sides were engaged fully, though most bullets flew overhead.

One side fired with flash suppressors in darkness, while the other, illuminated by flares, revealed muzzle flashes with every shot.

After a moment, several men were hit.

...

In the guides' tents within the camp, Onard and another guide, both tipsy, slept soundly, unaffected by the gunfire.

Two sober guides grabbed Molotov cocktails prepared beforehand and ran toward the largest tent in the center.

They had been paid well to carry GPS devices, incapacitate camp occupants, and set fires at night to mark key targets.

The money fueled their courage.

They ignited the Molotovs and headed for the central tent to mark the primary attack objective with flames.

...

Nearby, Erica's serval, Shana, suddenly turned and emitted a sharp cry.

Though drowned by machine gunfire, Hawke noticed. He peered from behind his cover and caught sight of the two guides with their firebombs.

Without hesitation, Hawke swung his AKM toward them and opened fire.

At close range, the two men's heads exploded from the gunfire, and one Molotov shattered, the liquid spilled onto the corpse and immediately ignited.

Shana dove low, trembling beside Erica.

Hawke returned his fire, capitalizing on the last flare's light, shooting repeatedly.

The muzzle flashes from the enemy rifles were glaring in the darkness, forcing them to keep their heads down. Despite this, Hawke's burst emptied a magazine, killing three men.

While reloading, Hawke heard the booming fire of an M700 sniper rifle.

Erica counted off: "Fifth!"

...

The PKM machine guns positioned to the camp's north and south provided lethal crossfire, forcing the men to fire blindly.

With enough bullets flying, they could always strike targets.

One unlucky mercenary was hit in the shoulder by a ricochet, screaming in pain.

His teammates quickly injected him with morphine and bandaged the wound.

The cries threatened morale, especially in a disorganized force.

...

Bosque ordered over the radio, "Teams 6 and 7: wait for the flare to die, then flank north and south!"

"Roger that!"

Bosque added, "Boss, protect yourself."

Hawke didn't interfere; professionals should do their work. Facing such a large-scale assault, Bosque had more experience.

He replied, "Understood!"

...

The flare went out, and Mousad relaxed slightly at the rear.

The enemy firepower was overwhelming -- four light machine guns suppressed them heavily. Over a dozen comrades lay dead; the injured screamed in agony.

Despite the losses, the men maintained discipline, unlike many chaotic African tribal conflicts where casualties cause immediate routs.

Darkness fell again, and Mousad heard engine noises at the rear with relief.

He ordered over the radio, "Armored vehicles, provide suppressive fire!"

Two dusty beige armored Hummers pulled up behind, their gunner spotting flames in the camp and tracer bullets.

They operated M2 heavy machine guns and laid down fierce suppressive fire.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Tracer rounds from .50 caliber machine guns tore into the camp.

Bullets shredded a Land Rover Defender, glass shattering.

One mercenary sheltering behind was shot through the left chest, disintegrating half of his torso.

The gunners ducked; this wasn't suppressive fire but deadly ammunition that guaranteed fatalities on a hit.

...

With firepower lessened, Mousad yelled, "Charge in! We outnumber them!"

Using the armored vehicles' cover, the men crawled up and charged toward the camp.

Mousad knew that once inside the camp, their numerical advantage could overcome tactical and marksmanship shortcomings.

Bosque agreed and ordered, "Cars 4, 5, and 6, turn on the rooftop spotlights."

Only two Defenders lit their spotlights toward the west.

The driver jumped out and fled crazily.

Car 6 was already disabled by the M2 fire.

The bright lights blinded their own men, who fired wildly.

The spotlights drew the M2 gunners' focus, who shifted their fire toward the lights, their muzzles flaring again.

Both Defenders were hit.

...

Seizing the moment, Hawke shouted, "I cover your left, you cover my right!"

Erica raised her M700 sniper rifle, spotting muzzle flashes through the scope like shooting stars in the night.

Hawke aimed briefly and fired rhythmic bursts with his AKM.

Erica fired three precise shots.

...

In the distance, a Humvee gunner heard impacts on his machine gun shield sparking; he ducked just in time as bullets struck nearby, one grazing above his head.

Wearing only a black beret instead of a helmet, the soldier's skull was shattered by AKM fire.

His body slumped inside the vehicle, brains spilling out.

Erica's next shot severed another insurgent's neck, spraying blood onto the nearby driver.

The driver instinctively sped up, swerved, and changed position.

Mousad's voice came from the radio: "Maintain suppressive fire!"

The armed Hummers quickly replaced fallen gunners and resumed shooting.

...

Another flare soared overhead.

The PKM guns across the camp roared again, mowing down the men caught in the spotlights.

Morale among the attackers hit a breaking point.

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African armies composed of black soldiers weren't truly elite in this era.

Even with some Sudanese officers trained abroad, the common soldiers remained in poor condition.

Mousad knew they faced overwhelming firepower in open plains, with no chance to retreat -- retreat meant slaughter.

He yelled, "Suppress the machine guns!"

Then commanded, "Grenades!"

Some crawled men tore off grenades but couldn't stand to throw, tossing them while prone.

Lucky strong arms lobbed them about ten meters ahead.

Explosions thundered.

...

At the camp's center, Hawke wasn't worried about grenades; he just took shots at exposed arms lit by flares.

A short burst severed one man's arm, the smoking grenade dropping and erupting.

Shrapnel sprayed, creating bloody holes in several unfortunate fighters, wailing painfully but not yet dying.

Gunners on the armored Hummers shifted focus back to enemy PKMs, no longer suppressing cars with extinguished lights.

Under the dense machine gun fire, one mercenary's helmet and head exploded.

Amid the dense gunfire, some would fall.

Hawke ducked back and called out to Raul, "Let's grab the RPGs."

They had to take out those two armored Hummers fast -- the heavy machine guns posed a huge threat.

If suppressed and overrun, things would get ugly quickly.

*****

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