Song Heping dove to the ground and saw the damned Mk VII jump around in the sandpit, splitting into two. Twenty grams of black explosive had already soaked into a dark red color—like the nosebleed that sprayed at this moment, sizzling on the scorching sand.
"Dud?"
Jiang Feng slumped in the sandpit, with half a fuse plate still stuck to the sole of his boot, his calves trembling uncontrollably.
Getting this frightened would scare the soul out of anyone.
It was truly dangerous just now.
If the landmine had uncontrollably exploded, the two wouldn't have survived either.
Song Heping spat out the sand in his mouth and, with trembling fingers, picked up the blackened detonator.
The Roman numeral "VII" inside the copper shell was oxidizing and peeling, revealing the smaller German inscription "Zünder 43" beneath—this was a dual-trap modified by the German Army in North Africa in 1943; the second fuse would activate after the first disarming attempt failed.
