Ahmed heard the order and left the queue, jogging all the way to the front of John.
John sat in the car without getting out of the car. He took out his cigarette case, took out a cigarette, lit it, and asked through the car window: "Do you smoke?"
"No, sir, I won't smoke," Ahmed replied truthfully.
"Why do you want to find this job?" John continued to ask, wanting to know more about Ahmed.
"I need money, sir," Ahmed said.
"What was your previous occupation?" John continued to ask.
"Anyone who can repair a car is familiar with it, as long as it has an engine." Ahmed replied.
"Oh, is it so?"
Sergeant John didn't believe it, pointed to the hood on the front of the car and asked, "What is this?"
Ahmed looked at it. He knew what Sergeant Major John wanted to ask, but he didn't know what model the Hummer engine was. He could only vaguely say: "Engine, sir."
"Are you kidding me?" John said a little dissatisfied with this answer.
"No no."
Ahmed shook his head repeatedly and said: "How dare I make a joke on the officer?"
"How long have you been here?" John asked.
"Five years," Ahmed replied.
"Do you like it here?" Sergeant John asked.
"It's just a casual meal, sir." Ahmed's expression still didn't change.
"Akhmed, this unit is specifically responsible for finding Taliban ammunition and explosion sites. To put it bluntly, being in danger is commonplace. Unfortunately, our last translator just died." Commander John said.
"clear."
Ahmed nodded, and then made a special trip to correct me: "My name is Ahmed, not Achmed, sir."
"Oh well."
John paused for a moment and then added: "It's sergeant, not sir."
After saying that, he turned around and introduced himself to other people in the car.
"Hey guys, this is Ahmed, our new translator."
"Hello, brother!"
"Hello, Ahmed."
The soldiers greeted him one after another.
"Congratulations on your new job, don't let me down, don't end up like that rat shit." John warned Ahmed again.
"I can't, sir," Ahmed replied.
…
After finding the local translator he needed, Sergeant Major John immediately led the team and set off to the nearest city to look for suspicious targets.
After driving to the city, Ahmed used his advantage as a local to translate for everyone.
"It's so damn uncomfortable to eat canned food every day. I want to eat fresh meat so much that I go crazy."
"All you can think about is eating?"
"Tom, what is that guy eating?"
"It only eats sausages, and there's nothing wrong with small sausages."
"But just continue to deceive yourself, Porridge."
…
Along the way, the team members were so bored that they could only pass the time with various nonsensical chats and observe the surrounding environment.
"Okay, okay, kids, pay attention, it's time to work."
Arriving in front of a row of houses, Sergeant Major John called out to all the team members and prepared to start searching from house to house to find the information they wanted.
"If you're looking for weapons, you won't find them here," Ahmed interjected.
"Really? How do you know?"
Sergeant Major John asked in confusion.
At this moment, Hardy had already walked over, knocking on doors from door to door, wanting to go in and check.
"I know what's behind these doors, and no one will open them," Ahmed said.
"Really?"
John looked at him, suspicious, but Hardy knocked on the door and no one answered the door. He had to say: "You can really predict the future. Do you know where you are going?"
"There may be something to gain there." Ahmed could only think of a house in the distance.
"Hardy, go over and knock again."
Following the direction Ahmed pointed, Hadi walked over and knocked on the door several times.
Soon.
A middle-aged man with a beard but full of energy opened the door.
"What are you doing?" the middle-aged man with a beard asked with a sullen face.
"They are American brothers," Ahmed said as a translator.
"I can see, what do you want to do?"
The middle-aged man with a beard continued to ask cautiously, blocking his body in front of the door without moving away.
"They are looking for Taliban arms." Ahmed translated for them.
"I have nothing to do with those murderers." The middle-aged man with a beard resisted.
"I believe you, but you also need to make them believe you. Only by letting them go in to check will your innocence be confirmed. In this way, your house will not end up like other houses."
After some persuasion by Ahmed, the Afghan opened the door and allowed them to go in for inspection.
The middle-aged man with a beard could not open the door. Ahmed's threat was something he could not bear. He did not want his house to be blown up.
Sergeant Major John took the lead to enter first, with Long Zhan following closely behind him.
He maintained a high level of vigilance.
He motioned to other members with his hands to come in and check elsewhere.
The U.S. troops came in one after another from the back and inspected every corner of the room.
Long Zhan followed John into the house and looked around the house without saying a word. There was nothing he wanted here.
The house was pitch black, with only a little bit of sunlight coming in, shining in bunches.
The US military needs to take a closer look and lift the coverings.
"Safety."
"Safety."
The soldiers inspected and reported the situation.
Nothing suspicious was found.
It's just that the room is full of people, one is lying under the window, and two are lying in the center of the room, one is leaning on his side with a cigarette in his mouth. The other is sleeping with many wine bottles next to him.
They did not get up because they were involved in the inspection, but pretended to be nonchalant and continued to smoke their cigarettes.
I guess I have become accustomed to these inspections.
"Safety."
"Safety."
"everything is normal."
Kitts looked at an alcoholic lying on the ground, and there were many dirty wine bottles next to him.
I couldn't help but sigh: "What the hell is this place? It looks like a bar."
The middle-aged Afghan man with a beard babbled a lot in the translator's ear.
But no one understands it.
Long Zhan understood it, but he didn't translate it.
John asked: "What is he talking about?"
Ahmed immediately replied: "He said your intelligence sources are weak."
"I'm tired of hearing these words." Kitts shook his head and said.
"Okay, this is really frustrating. I'm going to stay here and smoke a cigarette." John actually sat down directly on the edge of the bed under the window sill.
While taking out his cigarette case and getting cigarettes, he said, "How come you know so much about this place?"