These simple five words were like pressing the start button of a precision instrument.
Almost in the exact microsecond the word "begin" fell—
"Whoosh—"
A faint, almost wind-covered sound, like ripping silk, came from the eastern highlands.
It was the unique sound of the Cold Blade's VSS suppressed sniper rifle firing specialized subsonic ammunition.
In the view of the binoculars, the sentry leaning against the railing on the roof suddenly jerked his head back, a tiny mist of blood exploded at his temple, and the entire person, like a puppet with strings cut, silently slumped down, disappearing behind the rooftop platform's railing.
"Cold Blade reporting, rooftop target eliminated."
On the channel, Cold Blade's voice was as calm as a still lake, as if he had just completed a routine exercise.
The moment after the rooftop sentry fell, Petrovsky's assault team exploded like a spring compressed to its limits!
"Assault team, advance!"
Petrovsky leapt up from the shallow trench.
