In the distance, the tank engines of the HTS forces roared dully like a pack of hungry beasts in the wilderness, and the screeching sound of tracks crushing over ruins grew nearer.
Song Heping stood at the observation point of the temporary command post, his hand holding the binoculars dripping with sweat.
In his field of vision, the moving torrent of steel made his brow furrow tightly into a knot.
This wasn't harassment by scattered troops, but an attack with a clear direction, and even a hint of proper tactical coordination between infantry and tanks.
Since when do the Freedom Army and HTS have such organization and equipment?
There's definitely something fishy behind this!
Song Heping was almost certain that someone must have provided these ragtag armed organizations with military training and guidance.
"Damn it, did these bastards use everything they have, or did they take some drugs?"
A nearby Syrian officer's voice trembled, his face pale as paper.
