The appearance of the tanks—those battlefield juggernauts—instantly caused the guerrilla fighters to tense up. Even though they had just buried anti-tank mines, the fear was instinctual, rooted in years of technological inferiority.
Gunfire thinned out as the tanks advanced.
"Don't stop shooting…" Owen shouted, snapping the guerrillas out of their stupor. They resumed firing, but most enemy troops had already taken shelter behind the tanks. The bullets were easily absorbed by the thick armor.
Boom boom~~
Rounds pinged off the tank hulls with dull thuds. Two RPGs streaked through the air and hit the lead tank, but the explosions merely lit up its surface—like a firework show against a steel wall. The tank didn't even flinch.
With a mechanical clank-clank-clank, the tank's turret began to rotate slowly, and the dark barrel eventually aimed straight at the source of the RPG fire.
"Run!"
Owen yelled the warning. The RPG gunner snapped out of his daze and bolted, bent low. But the shell was already on its way. Traveling faster than the eye could follow, it slammed into the tree the shooter had just used as cover. The blast knocked him off his feet, and when he got up, he saw that the tree was on fire—only half of it remained.
Pop… pop… pop… pop…
Omega team members kept up their accurate fire. With each shot, someone went down. But the less experienced guerrillas weren't as effective. The tanks had a major psychological impact on them.
Boom~~
One of the tanks triggered a landmine. But when the smoke cleared, it continued to roll forward, completely unharmed. Owen remained calm. Omega was positioned higher on the slope, while the Serbs were advancing uphill.
Another mine went off under a second tank—another loud blast, another ineffective result. The tanks pressed forward, but then… nothing. They stopped hitting mines, as if the field had been nearly empty.
The three tanks rumbled forward. Though there were only three, it seemed the guerrillas had no answer to these metal beasts. Rifles, RPGs, even mines—nothing worked.
Borbon's face broke into a grin. He waved his hand and joined the infantry behind the tanks with his personal guard. Swag never took his eyes off him through the scope, but Borbon had surrounded himself so thoroughly it was like aiming at a walking fortress.
Omega didn't flinch. They had only planted a few anti-personnel mines at the clearing's edge. The majority of the mines were buried in the forest—terrain the tanks couldn't enter but where infantry would inevitably go.
BOOM!
Another explosion echoed, but it felt like mockery now. The Serb soldiers, previously cautious, now followed confidently behind the tanks. The mine threat, it seemed, had passed.
The tanks advanced slowly, ominously. Occasionally, they'd stop and fire a shell—more for intimidation than effect. The explosions rarely hit anyone, but the psychological toll was massive.
"Three, two, one—throw!"
Bayev had been holding back until the tanks were close enough. At his shout, he lobbed the first grenade. Then it was like rain—an entire volley of grenades arcing through the air.
Bayev had had enough. He'd waited for this moment.
RPGs and rifles were straight-line weapons—they couldn't touch the infantry hiding behind tanks. But grenades? Grenades were perfect. Once the tanks moved past the blast radius, it was grenade season.
Explosions rocked the rear infantry ranks. The sudden bombardment sent Serb soldiers into chaos. Just moments ago, they had looked so confident—now they were being blown apart.
Borbon, still further back, was outside the blast radius but shaken nonetheless. Worse, those dying soldiers were his own troops—and they were his power base. Losing them hurt.
Before he could issue any orders, the hatches on all three tanks flew open. Machine gunners popped up and started sweeping the field with turret-mounted guns.
Rat-tat-tat! Machine-gun fire churned up dirt and debris. Several guerrillas were hit. The rest returned fire in a frenzy, but most of their bullets struck the tank's armored shielding.
BANG!
A sniper rifle cracked—its report distinct from the rest of the battlefield's chaos.
One of the tanks fell silent. A machine-gunner was hit. The Omega snipers had started targeting the exposed gunners. A second gunner was quickly taken out as well. The snipers didn't aim for showy headshots—any hit that disabled the shooter was good enough.
Within moments, two of the three tank-mounted machine guns were out of action. The last one wisely ducked back inside and refused to show himself again.
Borbon watched it all with growing fury. They had superior firepower. They had more men. And yet they were getting pushed back again and again. Something was off. This wasn't the guerrilla force he remembered. When had these peasants become so deadly?
"Full speed ahead!"
Borbon gave the death order. The tanks suddenly revved up, black smoke pouring from their exhausts as they surged forward. He intended to smash through the guerrilla line, then let his superior numbers wipe them out.
But to his surprise, the guerrillas didn't panic. They stood their ground, calmly returning fire as if nothing had changed. It felt wrong. Too calm.
For a brief moment, Borbon doubted himself. Was he misreading this? Did the guerrillas have something else planned? He hesitated—maybe he should warn the tank crews to proceed with caution.
Then it happened…
BOOM!
The lead tank suddenly rocked as an explosion erupted beneath it. It had hit a mine—nothing new, they had before. But this time was different.
The blast lifted the tank's front end. Thick black smoke poured out. Its belly was torn open, one of its tracks shredded. The tank shuddered, then froze in place, dead.
Before anyone could fully process what happened, the second and third tanks suffered the same fate. The anti-tank mines had struck precisely where it hurt most—beneath the chassis and into the side tracks. The underbelly was the weakest part of any tank, and the blast had hit home. The crews inside were likely dead or knocked out cold.
All three tanks were immobilized.
Anti-tank mines.
That single thought exploded in everyone's mind.
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