Arc of Fire

"Are the Prosens scared by Jonathan’s momentum?" It seemed so, as their firepower visibly thinned out—of course, the Mauser 98K couldn’t deliver dense firepower anyway.

The Prosen infantry squads were primarily organized around machine guns, which the Commandos had now dismantled, so the Prosens were left with only the automatic firepower of the submachine guns held by their sergeants.

It was clear that the Prosens were not accustomed to fighting without machine guns.

Jonathan ran out of bullets and dropped down again, shouting, "Reload!"

"Your barrel has melted! That machine gun is scrapped!" Martin yelled.

Jonathan then realized the barrel was indeed shot and sizzled when it touched the sandbags.

He cursed, grabbed a submachine gun, and opened fire on the Prosens, who were trying to flank them again.

The Prosens fired back with Mauser 98Ks, and Jonathan’s beret was shot off.

He ducked down and cursed, "Damn it, the Sten Submachine Gun just can’t effectively kill the enemy."

At that moment, the enemy’s gunfire suddenly stopped, and no more bullets from the Mauser 98Ks were heard hissing against the sandbags.

Jonathan: "What’s happening?"

He and Martin exchanged glances, then both peeked out.

The Prosens were retreating out of the camp!

The two looked at each other again, and Jonathan asked, "Do you know what happened?"

Martin shrugged.

A few minutes earlier.

A doctor had put on a fake beard and asked the only Commando member with him, "How do I look, convincing?"

The Commando glanced at the deceased Colonel, "Pretty convincing. No wonder you didn’t let me shoot this colonel earlier."

Doctor: "No, no, it’s not about the uniform, but the medals. Didn’t you notice?"

Saying that, he stripped the medals off the colonel’s body and wore them one by one.

After dressing neatly, the doctor stood in front of a full-length mirror and looked at his reflection.

From now on, he was Colonel Hawke of Prosen.

To add a bit of authenticity, the doctor pocketed all the colonel’s identification and took his Luger pistol.

"Let’s go fool those Prosens," the doctor declared with a wave of his hand and unlocked the big front door himself.

The Prosens who were battering the door were stunned at the sight.

"Uh, Colonel…"

A submachine gun thrust out from beside the "Colonel," and mowed down the several men.

With gunfire raging outside, no one noticed these changes.

The doctor stepped over the bodies of the Prosens, telling his assistant, "Set the office on fire, don’t let anyone come in and see the real colonel."

"Okay."

As the assistant started the fire, the doctor hurried down the stairs, yelling at the staff in the large downstairs office, "What are you still doing here? Get out and fight! Come on, get your weapons!" R̃άꞐОᛒĘ𐌔

The staff looked at each other, then the highest-ranking officer asked, "Colonel, your voice sounds strange!"

"I got punched in the larynx by a damn bastard! Never mind that, just get out and fight! You pigs!"

Whether it was the scolding or something else that reminded them of the colonel’s commanding presence, they soon put down their phone receivers and documents and headed toward the office door.

"Go get your weapons! Quick!" the doctor urged.

Once the staff were gone, he quickly searched the room for any valuable documents, stuffing them into his uniform which might offer some bullet protection.

Then the "colonel" left the office, joined his assistant who had finished starting the fire, and they descended to the ground floor and outside.

Right outside, he shouted, "Commander! Where’s the commander?"

A captain quickly ran up: "Colonel? Where have you been?"

Obviously, the captain didn’t have the time to question if this colonel was an imposter.

Doctor: "What’s with this attack? Trying to capture a strong point without heavy weapons is futile! You should withdraw, regroup, and prepare to find a crossing to reunite with the main force!"

Captain: "But..."

Doctor: "Don’t you see? It’s impossible to take this position now! You don’t even have machine guns!"

The captain fell silent, seemingly realizing themselves that regaining the position was indeed hopeless.

They were still attacking simply because they were Prosen soldiers, always pushing through to complete their missions—their previous mission had been to hold the bridge.

But now the "colonel" had given them a new mission.

Thus, the captain turned his head, "Signal the retreat! Regroup outside and prepare to find a crossing!"

At that moment, the armed staff members emerged from the barrack as well, and the doctor pointed to the back door, "Leave from this side! There might still be fighting, I need everyone ready for battle! Also, captain, check if there are any vehicles available."

The captain shook his head, "I checked already, all the vehicle tires have been slashed."

The doctor thought to himself, the Commandos are too efficient, slashing all the tires in such a short time.

If they had left some vehicles, these guys could have driven far away before they realized what was happening and Rocossov’s reinforcements could have already arrived.

Doctor: "Retreat on foot!"

Captain twisted his head and issued a command.

At that moment, a staff officer who was walking out turned back for a glance and noticed that the third floor office was on fire. He shouted, "The Colonel’s office is burning!"

All the staff officers stopped and turned back to look at the third floor.

The Captain was also looking at the third floor, seemingly deep in thought. Finally, he made up his mind and, while shifting his gaze, questioned, "Are you really Colonel Hawke? Think carefully, your voice also doesn’t sound quite the same as the Colonel we know... Where is he?"

The doctor had already dodged behind the pillar by the main door and had left behind a grenade with its pin pulled.

The spring-launched safety lever even flew toward the Captain, making him instinctively tilt his head to dodge...

However, the grenade with the ignited fuse was right in front of him, and dodging the safety lever was clearly of no use—

The grenade exploded, and the Captain faced the storm of fragments head-on.

His face and clothes were shredded simultaneously; flesh and blood were indistinguishable.

Under the impact, he fell backward.

The surrounding Prosens were also affected by the shrapnel; however, they weren’t as close, and most of them didn’t die but fell to the ground moaning.

The doctor’s aide fired, and the Sten submachine gun discharged a dense barrage of bullets.

The rifles that the staff officers had just been issued were not the familiar Mauser 98Ks, but Lee-Enfields from the United Kingdom, and their shooting skills were noticeably compromised; the first volley of bullets didn’t even hit the Commandos.

In the gap as they worked the bolts, the Commando team, like the doctor, had already ducked behind the pillars.

The disadvantage of the Sten submachine gun was revealed then, with its side-inserted magazine making it inconvenient to shoot from behind cover.

The Commando team members had to awkwardly lean out sideways from behind, aiming slightly behind the barrel of their guns.

At that moment, the doctor threw another grenade among the staff officers, where it exploded.

A staff officer yelled, "Stop firing at them, quickly go and get the retreating troops to come back!"

Immediately, a staff officer turned and ran, but the Sten submachine gun prioritized him, and he fell to the ground with three bullets in his back.

But more staff officers left their cover and sprinted toward the retreating troops, shouting as they ran, "Come back! Come back quickly!"

Just then, intense gunfire suddenly erupted from the opposite side of the bridge.

Originally, there were no barracks on the other side of the bridge, only duty-bound Prosen soldiers, so the Commandos who "hitched a ride" cleared them out in about ten minutes.

The squad commander, Henry, even began to consider sending people across the bridge to support the allies.

As Henry was arranging this, the Commando responsible for the machine gun shouted, "Car lights! Lots of car lights!"

Henry looked up and saw numerous car lights approaching along the highway.

He immediately realized that the retreating Balas troops might have turned back after crossing the bridge.

Henry asked, "What’s going on? Wasn’t their morale completely broken? Why would they turn back?"

At that moment, the trucks were already close, and the Commando assigned to the machine gun shouted, "Should we open fire?"

Henry gritted his teeth, "Fire! Fire!"

Tracer bullets immediately swept toward the enemy, the leading truck was hit and veered right off the cliff, plummeting into the ravine.

The Balas soldiers inside frantically jumped out, their screams echoing throughout the ravine.

The second and third trucks also caught fire, but the drivers managed to stop in time, with soldiers on fire rolling out of the trucks onto the ground.

The smell of charred flesh was carried by the wind.

The Commandos opened fire fully, harvesting Balasians like cutting wheat.

But the Balasians, screaming, charged forward against the gunfire.

Henry made out what the Balasians were shouting, something about "His Highness," as though they were trying to save someone.

He turned and shouted, "Bob! What are these people shouting?"

"They’re shouting about not forgetting His Highness’s kindness. They seem to think there’s a Balasian prince among us!"

Henry was shocked, "Is there?"

"I don’t know!"

Henry was about to ask something else when he suddenly heard the sound of mortar shells falling.

These Balasians had mortars!

And they remembered to use them!

As the shells fell, the Balasians’ machine guns fired, sweeping over the heads of their soldiers toward the Commandos.

Henry cursed.

The Commandos were of high individual quality and excelled in special tasks such as ambushes and sabotage.

But on the frontal battlefield, they were just a bunch of "fifty-pound comrades," and their combat advantage wasn’t so evident at times.

Especially when the enemy used heavy artillery.

The mortar didn’t care whether you were a Commando or a regular soldier; if it landed near you, you had to die.

And these Balasians, trained by Prosen instructors, were quite accurate with their mortars!

After a round of bombing, one of the machine guns had already gone silent.

Henry had no choice but to shout, "Get into the bunkers! Everyone, into the bunkers! Move! Don’t get hit by the mortars!"

At that moment, a shell landed near him, and he was thrown high into the air—

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