"Why haven't we taken off yet?!"
Jiang Feng's shouting came from the cabin.
"There are more and more guards outside!"
"I know!"
Song Heping replied irritably.
Heaven knows! It's not that he doesn't want to take off quickly!
If he had wings, he'd already be flying!
But this is not an ordinary Mi-17; it's a modified VIP version with many unfamiliar instruments on the dashboard.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as his fingers moved rapidly across the control panel, recalling the brief two-week flight training in Colombia.
"Song! The guard has retreated; we can't hold them off any longer! The casualties are too high! We're pulling out! Good luck!"
When it rains, it pours.
At a critical moment, bad news came through the headset.
Hassan informed Song Heping that they were pulling out.
"Damn it! You're just running away?!"
Song Heping thought these guys were too unreliable.
They just leave without any prior warning.
"The French are here! We lost a lot of men! Sorry!"
