The range of the dagger rifle is not high, and it is very difficult to aim this gun. It must be close to it before it has enough accuracy. Krisevic kept staring at James who only knew how to eat, while slowly crawling forward. As long as he approached ten meters, he could kill the Afghan guerrillas and open up a way forward for his side.

That chicken, leave some for me! Why did you eat up all the chicken legs? Krisevich cursed the foodie in his heart while crawling.

Suddenly, James, who was eating, raised his head and looked around. When he looked at Krisevich, Krisevich immediately lowered his head. Could it be that this guy was discovered?

Boil water, remove chicken feathers, grill, and eat again. Before we knew it, James had used it for more than two hours. Seeing the sun set to the west, James knew that he could not delay any longer. After dark, the road was not easy to find.

Half full, James wrapped the leftover chicken in his clothes, not afraid that the greasy chicken would stain his clothes. He poured the water from his helmet onto the fire, extinguished the fire, and then turned over the horse.

Looking at the figure riding a horse in front of him, Krisevich wished he could rush up immediately. The distance between the two sides was only fifteen meters! As long as he got closer to five meters, he could kill this guy with a faint dagger gun at a distance of ten meters. But now, he could only watch the guy run away with half a roast chicken.

"Follow him!" A voice came from behind.

Now that it is almost dark, it will be more difficult to track the night. Gilkotagkin knows that he has no choice but to follow up quickly.

Although the Afghan guerrillas in front were riding horses, they did not dare to ride too fast in such heavy snow. The Soviet soldiers behind could calmly follow him.

James didn't know that there were so many Soviets following behind him. He was greedy and asked the guerrillas to leave first. Originally, he planned to follow the footprints of the guerrillas and chase after them, but when the sky turned dark, it started to snow again. In the reflection of the snow, he watched the surroundings turn into endless snow again and could not see the traces coming out of the front, James suddenly became anxious.

The guerrillas would not keep walking in the Wakhan corridor. After they walked for a while, they would crawl into the mountains south. James looked at the absence of traces of people walking in front of him, and then saw a mountain road on the left, and immediately turned his head and followed him into the mountain road.

In fact, James knew in his heart that waiting here was the best choice. Hwaja found that he had not followed and would definitely send someone to search for his. However, he remembered that he was behind because of his greed. If someone came to search for him again, James felt that he had no face to see Mhamad again. He believed that he had good luck and would definitely catch up with the guerrillas.

In this way, James left the Wakhan Corridor and drilled into the mountains of the Pamir Plateau.

The Soviet soldiers behind them didn't know that James was lost, and they could no longer find traces of the guerrillas in front of them. They could only follow the guy in front of them. The heavy snow fell on them and soon melted.

James walked in the middle of the night and was a little tired. The half of the roast chicken in his arms was already stiff. He tore off a piece of meat hard and put it in his mouth to chew it.

The heavy snow stopped again, and you could see the stars above your head, and the white snow around you were also reflecting. Everything around you was so strange.

Where is he? James kept recalling his own route in his mind, and his heart gradually became a little panicked, as if he was lost!

Damn it! How could you get lost! James was extremely depressed. There was heavy snow everywhere. When his dry food was finished, he would definitely be frozen to death here if he couldn't find the guerrillas!

Or return to the same place, Hwaja will definitely send someone to search everywhere! James thought of this and just wanted to turn his horse's head when he heard a shout in front of him: "Stop, who are you?"

In the snow in front, two people appeared, wearing Afghan robes and headscarfs, only their eyes were exposed, and the scarf on their mouths was covered with ice, but their feet were wearing nothing. They stood barefoot in the snow, and their feet had turned black.

The two men were holding Eifield Mkiii rifles, which were weapons from the third Afghan war. They pulled the bolts and pointed the gun at James with a slam.

James' eyes were immediately delighted: "Thank God, I finally found you! Take me to see your captain!"

After saying that, James was about to move forward.

"Stop!" The two guerrillas were even more nervous and said, "Who are you?"

Where can anyone walk around in this kind of heavy snowy weather? Unless it is from the Soviets!

"I'm an American," James said. "I'm here to provide you with weapons."

James pulled open the scarf on his face and showed a Western face. He was indeed not a Soviet.

The Americans? The two guerrilla sentries slowly relaxed: "Are you here to provide us with weapons?"

Their guerrillas had too backward weapons. They were sentries holding these two rifles. In their guerrillas' station, there were less than twenty guns in total, and some were holding scimitars.

Now, is this person actually here to provide weapons to his side? Or American? That's simply great!

However, he still couldn't relax. One guerrilla winked at another guerrilla. He stepped forward and began to search for James and his horse. He found several cans of American cans on the horse's back, and the two of them drooled immediately.

"Give it to you." James said. At this time, he began to wonder in his heart that the prospects of these people were not like those of Mhamad's guerrillas. He should have met another guerrilla team.

This guerrilla team has not received any assistance from outside and is very backward in equipment.

Although the United States and other Western countries spared no effort to support the Afghan guerrillas' struggle against the Soviet Union, the number of Afghan guerrillas was too large. Three or five people, or more than a dozen people, could fight the Soviets by organizing them together. Such guerrillas played a restrictive role in the Soviet army. At the same time, due to their large number, the United States could not take care of them at all.

The American principle is that as long as there are guerrillas joining you, you must support it. Now, since you encounter this guerrilla team, James naturally will not give up the opportunity.

"Thank you." The two said, holding the can, and they didn't know how to open it. A guerrilla took out a bayonet and picked it up. Looking at the beef inside, although it was frozen hard, he still picked up a piece and stuffed it into his mouth.

The guerrillas sounded very majestic, but now many guerrillas are living in difficulties. They fight the Soviet Union without any reward, and they also have to find ways to get guns and ammunition. The poor Afghan people are now even poorer.

Under the leadership of Mhamad, guerrillas who constantly win battles and have assistance from outside, and at the same time, they also robbed weapons and food from the Soviets. In today's Afghanistan, there are very few guerrillas.

"Please come with us." After eating canned food, the two of them immediately changed their attitude towards James. They put their guns away, carried them behind their bodies, stepped on the snow, and walked into the valley with James.

James was slightly happy. At least he could sleep peacefully tonight.

After walking for five or six miles, a cave appeared in the middle of the valley. At the entrance of the cave, an AKM automatic rifle with a bipod was installed. This was their strongest firepower.

Seeing the two bringing one person back, the guerrillas in front of the automatic rifle at the entrance of the cave immediately asked, "Hris, who is this?"

"It's Americans who come to provide us with assistance, and we have to see the captain."

"Who wants to give us assistance?" A voice came from the entrance of the cave.

A middle-aged Afghan man came out of a cave. He had the same robe, wearing a pair of Soviet military boots on his feet, and a pistol around his waist, and his eye sockets were a little deep.

"Hello, my name is James, I am from the CIA." James said to the guerrilla captain: "We in the United States are very supportive of Afghanistan's anti-Soviet struggle and hope to contact various guerrillas and provide weapons and equipment."

"His Excellency James, what weapons can you provide us?" said the guerrilla captain Ramal.

"Akm rifles like this, bullets, rpg bazooka," James said. "We can all provide them, so that every guerrilla here can have them."

"Thank you very much, welcome our guests." Ramal was overjoyed when he heard this. Now, his team did not even have a rocket launcher, and could only kill a few left-in-one Soviets, and could not confront the Soviet army at all.

James walked into the cave and could see that this was the shelter of the guerrillas. The ground was covered with dead grass, and several guerrillas had just sat up lazily from there. At the entrance of the cave, there was a big pot with only half a bag of food next to it.

The cave is quite large, and it can accommodate more than 20 guerrillas, so there is no problem.

Sitting on a pile of dead grass, James said: "I came here to look for the warriors who resisted the Soviet Union here. Get in touch and determine the number of weapons needed. When the snow melts next year, the weapons will be transported."

Ramale's desire for weapons was simply impatient, but he also knew that it was not the time now. It was difficult for people to walk through heavy snow, and those weapons could not be transported for the time being.

"We need thirty people's equipment," said Ramal. "My young men are lacking weapons, otherwise they will definitely do a big fight. Now, the limelight of our guerrillas has been stolen by the Pashtun Hwaja!"

When Ramael said this, he was still a little angry. James suddenly realized that although the guerrillas in the cave were all bearded, they were a little different from the guerrillas in Mhamad. They were not from the Pashtun tribe, but should be the Tajik tribe!
Chapter completed!