God of Blackfield

Chapter 237: Says Who? (2)

Click!

Kang Chan stood up from his seat, M16 gripped tightly in his hands.

“Do you have a radio with you?” Kang Chan asked.

“Yes, I do, sir,” replied the agent who was about to pick up a kettle. Seeing Kang Chan’s expression, he quickly picked up his radio and gun instead.

“Radio the agents over. Have them all wear masks and gloves since I don’t know how long it will take.”

“Yes, sir.” Well aware of Kang Chan’s capabilities, the agent’s sharp eyes glinted as he put on a mask. At the same time, Kang Chan covered his nose and mouth with a mask that looked like it would be worn by motorcyclists.

Creak.

Kang Chan opened the door and headed out.

Chk.

“All agents, arm yourselves and assemble at Building A,” the agent radioed in as he followed behind Kang Chan.

Swiiiish!

Violent winds swept past Kang Chan.

With thick pants, a large winter bomber jacket that made him look more than half his actual size, a mask, and winter boots that resembled the boots that street merchants would wear in the cold, Kang Chan thought he probably looked as if he was dressed for a guerilla war.

The wind shot at him from every direction, blowing as wild as an angered banshee.

‘Where is it?’

Although they were on a vast plain with nothing on the horizon, the few scattered barracks prevented him from having a clear view of his surroundings. It was likely structured this way to block off some wind, but from a security standpoint, whoever set it up this way more than deserved to be chewed out and heavily berated.

Swoosh! Clank! Clank! Clank!

Kim Tae-Jin and the other agents dashed over, dressed similarly to Kang Chan. Their guns clattered behind them.

“What is it?” Kim Tae-Jin asked with urgency.

“My gut’s telling me that enemies are approaching us. Is there an observation tower we can use to look outside?” Kang Chan asked.

After quickly talking to the Mongolian border patrol, one of the agents replied, “They say a ladder is installed at the outermost barracks that will take us up to a vantage point.”

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Whoosh!

The look in Kang Chan’s eyes made the agents break into a sprint.

As the border patrol soldier said, they found a small staircase behind the outermost barracks.

Damn it!

The clothes they were wearing were too thick to move freely.

Kang Chan did his best to climb up.

Swish! Whooosh! Swoooosh!

The wind blew at them like a mad banshee lashing her arms out at them.

The sun was still up in the sky.

With his gun slung around his right arm, Kang Chan scanned their surroundings. Meanwhile, Kim Tae-Jin, the agents, and a Mongolian border patrol soldier followed him up.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Kang Chan slowly looked around him.

It was January.

The setting sun obviously fell from the east to the west at a twelve-degree angle—this was something that all special forces soldiers learned along with how to find water in desolate environments like this, estimate cardinal directions, and even how to dig trenches or secret hideouts.

Kang Chan sharply scanned his surroundings one more time. With this visibility, he could only see about two kilometers ahead of him.

Thump, thump. Haah, haah.

His heart was still beating rapidly, and he could still clearly hear his own breathing.

Kim Tae-Jin turned to Kang Chan, his curiosity evident in his expression.

Just then, Kang Chan saw a cloud of dust rising in the distance. It was a little over five kilometers away.

“Ask if the border patrol knows about that!” Kang Chan shouted.

An agent quickly did as instructed. “He says it’s the Russian mafia. They will be coming in three vehicles.”

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When Kang Chan turned around, he saw the border patrol soldier heading back down the barracks. Meanwhile, the cloud of dust was still zooming straight toward them.

What is that?

Kang Chan looked sharply ahead of him when his heart suddenly dropped to the ground.

“Ask the Mongolian border patrol soldiers if they have any sniper rifles. One that has a range of over one kilometer! Hurry!”

In Mongolian, one of the agents radioed in what he said.

“What’s going on?” Kim Tae-Jin asked, his expression stiff.

“If our enemies fire a Mistral or an Igla from that distance, we’ll have no way of stopping them! The guns we have right now only have a kilometer in range!” Kang Chan replied.

Not long after, the agent speaking in Mongolian earlier reported back. “They do not have any sniper rifles.”

So this is why my heart is beating so fast!

Kang Chan looked at the truck and the jeeps that were parked at the entrance of the barracks.

“Bring me the car keys to those vehicles! I need someone to drive and someone to cover me!” Kang Chan shouted.

“Yes, sir,” the agent replied.

“If there’s anyone in front of the barracks, have them all take cover behind it! Director Kim, please provide me some cover from here!”

“Got it,” Kim Tae-Jin replied.

Click! Click!

The agents on top of the barracks knelt down and got into position while their interpreter headed down the stairs. The agent accompanying Kang Chan and one other went back down as well.

“Where are the car keys?” Kang Chan asked, rushing the people around him.

“We are paying for it right now,” an agent replied.

What kind of bullshit is that?

“They’re asking for a thousand USD,” the agent explained.

“What? These fucking—!” Kang Chan cursed in frustration. He clenched his teeth as he waited in front of the jeep, finding no other options right now. A moment later, the agent interpreting for them hurried over with the keys.

Vroooom! Vroom! Vrooom!

An agent slid into the driver’s seat and another into the passenger’s seat. Kang Chan stood at the back, hanging the rifles on the racks of the car. The fuckers didn’t even include an M60 with the jeep.

“Did you bring your radios?” Kang Chan confirmed.

“I have one here, sir.” The agent who would be covering him raised his radio to show him.

Vrooom. Clunk! Clunk! Swiiish! Swiish!

Kang Chan swallowed the expletives about to escape his mouth as he turned back and saw the corpses.

They were Russian.

However, Kang Chan and his men could have been the ones in those people’s positions. There was no way of knowing which of their own soldiers could be left behind as wolf food in the same scenario.

The men traversed through the horrid wind to return to the barracks. Kim Tae-Jin and the agents with him welcomed them back.

“Unload the Mistral and set it on top of the barracks,” Kang Chan ordered.

“Yes, sir,” the agents replied. Three of the agents immediately got to work behind the truck.

“Who was providing cover fire for us?” Kang Chan asked Kim Tae-Jin.

“Kang Sunbae,” Kim Tae-Jin replied.

That old man did all of that?

Kang Chan turned to the Mistral, not wanting anyone to see him look so surprised.

That damn old geezer!

At the very least, he would be pulling his weight here.

“Dang! This is a pretty brutal neighborhood!” Oh Gwang-Taek grumbled as he observed the vehicles with cracked glass windows.

“The Mongolian border patrol soldiers say they need to take back the cars and the weapons,” the interpreter told Kang Chan with an awkward and uncomfortable expression.

“Who’s the punk in command here?” Kang Chan asked curtly.

“It’s Bhat, the chief of the border patrol.”

“Tell him to come over here.”

“Yes, sir.”

The agent disappeared and returned a minute later with a middle-aged man. The man was short and wearing a bulky Communist Party executive uniform.

“Interpret my words exactly as I say,” Kang Chan directed the agent.

“Yes, sir,” the agent replied.

Bhat looked at Kang Chan with a disgruntled expression.

“I can tolerate having to pay for using the vehicles,” Kang Chan began.

The agent quickly fired some Mongolian.

“If you spout any more bullshit, I will either leave this place or call the Chinese special forces team here myself,” Kang Chan continued.

Bhat looked sharply at Kang Chan and then muttered something to the interpreter.

“He says this is all a misunderstanding and that he doesn’t care if he has to return the money. The ownership of the weapons obtained at the border should rightfully belong to the border patrol troops,” the agent interpreted.

“You son of a bitch!” Kang Chan swore. Bhat seemed to have understood his outburst. “Tell him I’m going to call China now and that I’m going to protest to the head of the Chinese intelligence bureau.”

The agent rapidly began to utter words in fluent Mongolian.

“And tell him we’ll request the weapons and soldiers we need, so they’ll be on their own,” Kang Chan added.

At the end of his words, Kang Chan looked Bhat directly in the eye.

Just then, Bhat grinned from ear to ear, revealing his yellowed teeth. He spoke briefly in Mongolian.

“He says there’s no need for that and that you can do as you wish,” the agent translated.

Kang Chan nodded shortly twice, then turned to the agent.

“What time is it right now?” he asked.

“It’s five-twenty in the afternoon,” the agent answered.

“Do you think you can have the Mistral set up?” Kang Chan asked.

“We need equipment to secure it. It’s hard to work at night as well.”

Bhat interrupted their conversation.

“He said he can have it installed if you give him a thousand dollars,” the agent said.

Kang Chan almost smashed all of Bhat’s teeth with a butt plate. The son of a bitch would probably ask for money even if they were just hoping to borrow a few tools.

“Have him set it up right away. I’ll pay him once I’ve checked that the missile was properly installed,” Kang Chan stated.

After listening to the agent’s interpretation, Bhat grinned in satisfaction and held out his hand.

Kang Chan couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief.

Fine! I guess this is just how you live here!

Having the Mistral installed would make a huge difference, so the payment was a reasonable amount to bear.

Kang Chan briefly shook hands with Bhat, then directed his gaze toward Kim Tae-Jin.

“I think we’re going to have to have some security,” he said.

Kim Tae-Jin nodded in agreement. Just then, Bhat spoke up again.

Does this motherfucker actually know how to speak Korean or something?

Even the agent in charge of interpretation seemed flabbergasted now.

“What did he say? Did he say he’ll have his men stand guard for us for a thousand dollars too?” Kang Chan mocked.

“He’s requesting two thousand dollars per night,” the agent replied with a hint of disbelief.

The request was so absurd that Kang Chan, the agents, Kim Tae-Jin, and even Oh Gwang-Taek laughed out loud. Nevertheless, Bhat looked as shameless as shameless could be.

“I can’t trust these guys to stand guard for us. Let’s have an hourly rotation of guards up the barracks instead. Just to be safe, gather all the hand warmers you brought if you have any,” Kang Chan ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

For now, Kang Chan decided to set up their own security. He remembered the monitor that Anne gave him, but the one-minute lag on the screen bothered him. One minute was more than enough time for enemies to approach them, comfortably launch missiles at them, and even have a smoke.

Kang Chan headed back inside the barracks first. Once he stepped through the door, a gust of warm air came rushing at him.

Click!

He set his rifle down in one corner and removed his mask.

“Would you like some coffee?” an agent asked him.

“Yes. That sounds great,” Kang Chan replied.

This neighborhood was horrible for drinking coffee. Why was it so hard to just have a cup?

Taking the paper cup that the agent handed him, Kang Chan lit up his cigarette. At that moment, Kim Tae-Jin and Oh Gwang-Taek entered the room.

“Don’t do that! It only makes me uncomfortable if you do that!” Kim Tae-Jin exclaimed with a wave of his hand when Kang Chan tried to extinguish his cigarette.

“Can you get us a cup of coffee as well?” he then asked.

“Yes, sir,” the agent replied politely and headed to the kitchen. All the agents who came here were well aware of Kim Tae-Jin’s honorable reputation.

“Starting tomorrow, the guys and I are going to have some firearm training,” Oh Gwang-Taek said as he watched Kang Chan snuff out his cigarette a bit. “Anyway, from what I saw today, the old man’s skills were pretty damn incredible!”

What’s this bastard trying to get at?

Oh Gwang-Taek avoided Kang Chan’s gaze as he quickly took the paper cup the agent offered him.

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