The scorching air of Isriye City solidified in the throat, as if a lump of charcoal was stuffed in, and each breath drew in thick smoke and the stench of burning.
Standing at the town's entrance, Song Heping's gaze passed over the still warm engine hood of the "Death God Squad's" armored vehicle, landing on the devastation of the street.
The suicide bomb attack launched earlier by 1515 "Martyr" had blown half of the buildings on both sides, with fragmented limbs scattered among the rubble, and dark red viscous blood meandering through the dust, attracting swarms of flies and mosquitoes buzzing in the afternoon sun.
"Tell Imes to count the numbers, gather ammunition, we're leaving here immediately."
After instructing Jiang Feng, Song Heping leaned against the car, took out a bottle of mineral water, drank half, and poured the remaining half over his head.
"This damned weather..."
He felt as if the ice-cold mineral water poured over his head was sizzling like it was on a hot pan.
