Battlefield Contractor

Zhao Jianfei is now sitting in a heavily overloaded car. Surrounded by locals, his also wore a robe that Afghans often wear, wrapped a turban, and his face was covered with road dust.

He is no stranger to Afghanistan. It was in Afghanistan that he and his twin brother began their career as a mercenary—salary was several times that of the United States, and at the most every month they could earn more than 50,000 US dollars.

However, in Zhao Jianfei's memory, Afghanistan does not only mean "good", on the contrary, he remembers mostly the war of hunger, poverty and even death. Thinking of the death of his younger brother Zhao Jianye makes his memories even more painful.

This car looked like a truck, but it was actually a tractor-like thing, bumpy enough to make people's stomach cramp. But Zhao Jianfei is not afraid, he has not eaten anything since yesterday. Because he knows what he will encounter along the way. He could do anything for revenge, so he didn't tell anyone, not even Silver Wolf.

A military company that has lived for several years, he left after saying he left. It is not that he intends to abandon these brothers who have lived and died with him, but that Zhao Jianfei understands that what he is about to do is extremely dangerous. He didn't want to involve them because of his actions. Zhao Jianfei was still leaning on the car with his head down, and the violent bumps and shaking could not change his posture.

The car is about to leave the area controlled by the government forces because there is a checkpoint ahead. Some provinces here are under the jurisdiction of the Afghan government, while some areas are controlled by tribal armed forces. Regardless of the jurisdiction of any force, there are very prestigious "elders" in the local area. The "elders" are generally held by the elders of the largest family in the area, and they are very "authoritative" in the region.

Their private armed forces will set up checkpoints on the edges of these controlled areas to check people coming and going. Zhao Jianfei's car was no exception. It was quickly intercepted by a few people to check their belongings.

Everyone is in the car, only Zhao Jianfei is still sitting there, holding an ak47 rifle in his arms, with his head down, no one is beside him. No one seems to be able to change this action.

The armed personnel at the checkpoint were a bit dissatisfied with his mannerism, but saw his posture but held back. Because the armed man felt that this man seemed uncomfortable. He is just a routine check and does not want to have any disputes with these people. And it seemed that Zhao Jianfei had almost nothing on him except the gun. There is really nothing to check. So they waved to indicate that they could pass.

The driver turned his head and looked at Zhao Jianfei, frowning, "You better cooperate a little bit, because a checkpoint is not so friendly."

Zhao Jianfei smiled rarely, "A checkpoint should be there, Musa Qala, right?"

"Yes, have you been here before?" The driver shrugged. "You should be a Hazara, right?"

The appearance of the Hazara in Afghanistan is very similar to the Chinese because they are yellow people with a typical Mongolian appearance. reads();. Therefore, the Chinese are often mistaken for Hazara by the locals.

Zhao Jianfei had been in Afghanistan for a while, but he shook his head and said, "I am a foreigner."

"Foreigner? As a foreigner, your local dialect is pretty good. But you'd better be careful. Not every soldier at the checkpoint is good-tempered. This is crazy. A foreigner doesn’t have a good temper. Running around without protection." The driver sighed, shaking his head.

The traffic conditions in Afghanistan are particularly poor, because 80% of Afghanistan is mountainous. This journey takes about a day to drive, and basically there is no parking along the way. Because mountain roads are not fast and there are many corners, most of them are mountain roads, not asphalt roads, which are particularly difficult to walk.

However, they arrived at the Mousakala checkpoint towards the evening, and a group of armed men came over and surrounded the vehicle.

They noticed Zhao Jianfei, then frowned and asked the driver a few words. The driver didn't dare to hide it and told them Zhao Jianfei's identity.

Zhao Jianfei still sat motionless, holding a gun in his arms, leaning against the car.

"Who are you?" an armed man said in English.

"I'm here to see Ashraf. He knows who I am." Zhao Jianfei slowly raised his head, "I can speak a little Pashto. You don't have to talk to me in English. Go tell Ashraf, Gemini is here. I'm looking for him."

"Gemini? Never heard of it. Not all strangers can come to see Elder Ashraf." The armed guard frowned.

"As long as you give him this thing, he will know who I am. I can wait for him here." Zhao Jianfei took out a short knife from his robe and handed it to the armed man. This is a very delicate scimitar.

The armed personnel finally took a look and frowned slightly. The machete of Afghanistan is very famous, but the one Zhao Jianfei took out is obviously the finest among the finest pieces. The ivory handle is inlaid with gold and silver, which is not an ordinary knife at first glance. After pulling out the scabbard, the body of the blade was not as cold as an ordinary sword, but looked extremely dim, and the body was densely covered with colorful dark patterns.

Several guards glanced at each other and talked in a low voice. Then someone walked away with a knife.

The remaining people also put away their guns and said to Zhao Jianfei, "."

Zhao Jianfei nodded and continued to sit there holding the gun without saying a word. About forty minutes later, a middle-aged man came with a large group of people. This man is wearing a camouflage uniform and a bushy beard. He was taken aback when he saw Zhao Jianfei, then came over with a big laugh, and hugged Zhao Jianfei, "It really is you, our friend."

Zhao Jianfei also smiled and hugged him, "Is Elder Ashraf here?"

"Yes, of course, he is waiting for you. God, I really didn't expect to see you again, my friend, you are still as strong as a tiger." The middle-aged Afghan man patted his back. Simply happy like a child.

"Take me to see the elders." Zhao Jianfei smiled.

"Of course, knowing the news from you, he was so happy." The middle-aged man seems to be a person of very status, and these militants maintain a considerable respect for him.

The middle-aged man took Zhao Jianfei into a car and personally sent him to see Elder Ashraf. These local militants all looked in a daze. They all knew that this middle-aged man was the elder's son, but they didn't know the origin of this seemingly silent and unremarkable person. Even the bearded middle-aged man was so passionate about him.