"A-choo!"
Nate suddenly sneezed, drawing everyone's eyes in the cabin onto him.
He pinched his nose with his gloved hand, waved it off, and said, "No problem."
The helicopter flew at ultra‑low altitude, so low it had to weave around utility poles. Only like this could the Angel Mercenary Corps reach their target inside Donetsk City, whose air defenses were extremely tight.
"Approaching target airspace, stand by."
Hearing the pilot's call, Nate closed his eyes. He struggled for a moment, but it lasted less than a second; his heart turned cold again.
"Combat ready!"
The pilot shouted urgently again: "About to land!"
Nate stood up and yanked the helicopter cabin door open. Then he looked back at the men standing up inside. Nate, who never gave pre‑battle speeches, suddenly said, "Soldiers! My soldiers! Help the Slavic People remember what a true Deutschland soldier is!"
Nate drove his fist down hard.
