Untouchable: Reaper of the Battlefield

That night, Eric Prince made a formal statement to the government of Paluza.

< A few days ago, Blackwater was conducting a military operation to create a safe environment for Paluza citizens. However, very few violent citizens have chosen to fight violence. They chose the wrong fate and caused their own destruction. Blackwater officially controls Falluza starting tonight to identify people with these extremely dangerous violent ideas. Drinking water will be supplied as usual……. >

Blackwater blocked all major access routes through Paluza with tanks.

Armed forces and armored vehicles have entered the city, and there are trenches around the city's entrance.

The city was dead quiet. However, by daybreak, the Blackwater mercenaries had discovered a series of noisy doodles on the walls of a clean building.

< Long live the Iraqi Resistance! >

< Raise your head. You are in Fallujah! >

< Long live the warriors on the battlefield! >

The faces of the Blackwater mercenaries who saw the doodles turned dim.

* * *

The vows ordered John and the mercenaries to evacuate Baghdad in a hurry.

“And you?"

“I need to see for myself. ”

“There's a war coming. What do you know? ”

The vow shakes its head.

It's not long since we met, but John Ackins absolutely believed in his vows.

John's actions led him to believe his vows without taking responsibility for his future or giving specific words of revenge.

The vows didn't say much.

Instead, I was always ahead. He and his associates looked at the back of the vow and moved on.

I've seen many competent commanders, but I've never seen one with such decisiveness and mobility.

Moreover, the situation was so horrifying that I mistakenly thought that I was looking down from the sky sometimes.

He was worth mentoring by my side in a word.

When Gary and I came up with a plan for how to use vows, even the anger in our hearts could be forgotten.

John knew he wouldn't listen to anything he said to his vows. But I couldn't stand to see my friend trying to walk to his limbs.

John looked at Seowon's laptop.

On the laptop screen was an aerial photograph taken of Paluza two hours ago.

“You want to walk in here? ”

“It's okay. It's going to be okay. ”

John shakes his head and plunges his fingers into the bronzed forearms of the vows revealed under his short sleeve shirt.

“How dare you stick your finger in this? Soon there will be countless blind bullets flying around. ”

Pic smiles and shakes his head once, opening his backpack and pulling something out.

It was a piece of cloth that I didn't even think to touch, flowing with soup.

At one time, the vows of Gelaba, presumably white, were pronounced to stink of particles.

He covers his head and part of his face with a brown turban, looking in the mirror, wearing leather sandals, wearing a gel from his shoulders to his ankles.

She looks into the mirror and checks her appearance. She takes out her camouflage kit and begins to make up.

Ten minutes later, an Arab stands in front of John Ackins for the first time.

A sharp Arab's back gradually bent forward and his broad shoulders shrunk inward.

With his mouth open, you hear John's familiar voice, unable to speak a word.

“Take care, my friend. ”

John shakes his head as he looks at the frail old man getting farther and farther away.

* * *

The grim tales of Paluza have dawned upon the exotic journalists in Baghdad.

They try to leave for Fallujah with the cameraman, but no mercenaries respond.

That's why the blockade was broken.

They travel east and west in Baghdad to gather intel on Paluza, but nothing is worth saving.

At that time, Army Lt. Gen. Mark Kimmet, stationed in Iraq, stood in front of reporters in the briefing room.

He was also a university senior at Eric Prince, and he was also encouraged by Bremer to support Eric Prince in a confident voice.

“A few days ago, there was a riot in Paluza by terrorists. Currently, Paluza is protected by Blackwater.

Blackwater managed to contain the insurgency, but it resulted in one American death and seven heavy casualties.

At the moment, Blackwater is trying to rebuild Iraq and create an environment where people can feel safe. ”

Major Mark Kimmet answered a few questions and left the briefing room.

The briefing of the day was briefed on the foreign affairs of the American daily newspaper.

At the same time, armored armored vehicles and humvees painted with Blackwater marks were roaming the city of Falluza. They arrested Arabs for any reason if they were found on the streets.

Unlike Major Mark Kimmet, who said he was trying to rebuild Iraq and create an environment where people could live in peace, Blackwater was poking beehives.

* * *

On this morning, four men arrived at Blackwater's Western Camp in Iraq and were assigned to the same group.

They all met for the first time.

I originally came to Iraq to drive a truck carrying kitchen appliances from a nearby Paluza to an American military base. But the first thing that was assigned to them locally was to transport trucks from west Iraq to Paluza carrying kitchen utensils.

They were confused because they were assigned a different task than the contract.

They had nothing in common with their schools, their hometowns, and their age, except that they were from the United States Special Forces. But a lot of money for a new mission seduced you.

As soldiers trained in the Special Forces, they accepted a new mission without a word.

Leader Scott Helvanston, a Navy seal, gives an unfair look with his arms closed.

Receiving a lot of money was welcome, but his knowledge and reality were very different.

According to Blackwater and U.S. Army regulations, a patrol team consists essentially of two and six vehicles. If there are not enough people, do not send them. But the reality was four. At this rate, it is impossible to be careful in all directions.

Moreover, the bigger problem was the vehicle assigned to them.

Regulations required armored trucks to be provided by Humvees or the U.S. Army. The reality, however, was given two temporary steel sheets of Mitsubishi pajamas on the bumper back and forth.

He goes to the car dispatcher.

“Not in this car. You're defenseless if bullets come from the sides! ”

The dispatcher apologized for wanting to pay for another vehicle, but there were no cars left.

“But you have nothing to worry about. You think the Iraqis are going to put up a fight against us? ”

“We did it in Fallujah a few days ago. ”

“All the garbage died then. Rest assured."

Two red pajamas to escort three trucks back and forth sped towards Paluza.

An empty desert in western Iraq felt eerie today.

Scott Helvanston urges anxiety.

I did not like this situation where I was running with the first person I met in the world's most dangerous area.

He shakes his head, looking at the empty back seat.

The two missing persons shall have a 180-degree rotatable SAW heavy machine gun installed on each vehicle to prevent any attack from any angle. But none of the four men deployed today could handle the SAW.

If the user attacks from the side, it is impossible to stop the target.

He was the one who accepted the mission after all. Scott Helvanston sighs and tries to relieve the anxiety in his heart.

* * *

When a convoy carrying kitchen supplies set out for Paluza in western Iraq, Paluza was heading into chaos.

Armed vehicles in Blackwater have been ambushed from everywhere, and innocent civilians have been killed by gunfire.

Paluza, known as the City of Mosques, is now a City of Resistance.

That afternoon, a Blackwater convoy vehicle in the vicinity of Paluza touched the priestly explosives.

With a loud rumble, the rebels rush to the truck as the truck flips over. They climb onto the overturned truck and fire an AK-47 towards the interior.

As a result, two people died instantly, one seriously injured.

The next morning, the main highway connecting Fallujah and Baghdad was closed.

Even when Iraq was engulfed in flames, the quietest religious cities were now turning into cities of death.

Scott Helburnton spent a day in a U.S. military camp after several roads were closed.

The next morning, they were on Route 10.

It was the most dangerous city in the world.

* * *

Palusa's bustling streets brim with restaurants, cafes, and souks on the side of the street.

There has been a great commotion in the middle of this street since morning.

Fortunately, no one was hurt.

When people scream and are left and right, men with masks appear to drive them away. They ordered the shop owner to close the door quickly, as another explosion was about to explode.

As the dust and smoke subsided, as people were running around, I saw an old man kneeling and walking on his legs with his messy hair and beard, wearing clothes that were stained with dust.

He wanders the streets picking up empty cans and bottles in brown sacks.

Someone raises their head and yells at him, but the old man looks like a fool.

Soon no one cared about him.

He had been crooked and stupid the whole time he was a vagrant in the streets, but his mind was wide awake.

In order to capture a clue about Paluza's tragedy, he took a look at someone else's porch and windows and turned his ear to people's conversations.

And just a moment ago, he found a clue.

“The Mujahideen called this morning. ”

“The CIA's going through Paluza to get to Havania. ”

“They have no bodyguards and are dressed as mercenaries. I'm wearing sunglasses. I'm in a red Mitzwich."

“You must kill him! ”

The focused ear conveys the sound he desires.

The man stares at the building with a blank expression and moves.

He leans into the shade of the building, crouching.

I wanted more information, but I couldn't hear the conversation anymore.

CIA? No way.

They are just ordinary mercenaries with modest experience.

But the rest of the information, apart from that, was very specific.

Obviously, the information was leaked out somewhere with distortion.

Someone deliberately wants them dead by Arab hands.

Who the hell is that?

He focused on the impending tragedy.

And you can see the red SUV slowly approaching as it creates dust from afar.

Along with him, I felt the movement inside the building disintegrate.

* * *