**"It's done, boys."**
Murphy exhaled deeply after ending his call with Christensen, visibly relieved as he turned to the others. "The commander's approved daytime action. A major force will be arriving soon."
**"Yes! Nicely done."**
**"Hell yeah, that's what I'm talking about."**
**"Damn, we actually made it. Five guys going toe-to-toe with an entire army… that's insane."**
After all the effort they'd put in, the success sparked a ripple of excited whispers among Marcus and the others.
**"Alright, quiet down."**
There was still a critical task ahead. Murphy had to rein in the excitement.
**"We've got two things to take care of. First—we need someone to head back to the Healy waypoint and retrieve the laser designator. Any volunteers?"**
**"I'll go."**
**"Come on, leave it to me."**
**"I'm built for distance running. I can handle it."**
Marcus, Matt, and Dietz all stepped up without hesitation. At a moment when the team's survival hung in the balance, no one was trying to dodge responsibility.
Murphy appreciated the energy, but he still had to be firm.
**"The bomber's airdrop will arrive in under 20 minutes. I need someone who can **definitely** make it in time."**
The airdrop would come with a GPS beacon, emitting a steady signal.
All they needed was to bring a GPS receiver to track it down—once the signal was picked up, locating the airdrop package would be easy.
But the mountainous terrain was a problem. Signals could be blocked or weakened. At long range, they might not even detect the beacon.
That meant someone had to reach the drop zone *before* the payload hit the ground.
They needed to track the descent in real time—only then could they follow it and secure the package.
If they failed to retrieve it, and lacked the essential laser designator to guide the strike—
**It would be a total disaster.**
A single failure could unravel everything.
Without taking out Shah, the Taliban in the village wouldn't be thrown into chaos. The Y-landing strategy that followed would be useless.
Trying to send the Quick Reaction Force (QRF) storming into a Taliban-controlled village in broad daylight—under fire from 200+ fighters?
**Not gonna happen.**
Even if the QRF had the capability, Christensen would never authorize it. The casualties would be unacceptable.
And if they missed the airdrop, and couldn't call for a new one in time—
**The entire daytime operation would be scrapped.**
Which meant no chance of regrouping and trying again at night. The whole mission to eliminate Shah would fall apart.
Marcus, Dietz, and Matt were all well aware of how vital that airdrop package was.
On a flat track, running 2 kilometers in 20 minutes? They wouldn't even blink. They could do it wearing a hundred-pound ruck, no problem.
**But this wasn't a damn track.**
This was the rugged Afghan mountains—constant inclines, steep descents, and sheer cliffs that had to be climbed by hand.
Last night, it had taken them nearly two hours to get from Healy to here.
Now they had to go back in under 20 minutes.
Even though each of them wanted to take the mission, they had to be realistic about their limits.
**This wasn't the time to bluff or play hero.**
Marcus and the others couldn't be sure they could pull it off. For a moment, none of them said a word—just exchanging uncertain looks.
And then, as if they were all thinking the same thing, the three turned their eyes to Long Zhan.
During the trek from the landing zone to here, he'd been carrying *double* their load—and still outpaced them with almost inhuman stamina.
That day, their entire understanding of physical limits had been redefined.
Apparently, people like this actually *existed*—beasts with unreal endurance and strength.
When it came to this brutal task, if there was *one* person who could *absolutely* pull it off, Marcus and the others all knew the answer:
**Long Zhan.**
Murphy felt the same.
If Marcus and the others *might* be able to do it with everything they had, Long Zhan was someone who *definitely* would.
Between *maybe* and *definitely*—Murphy didn't hesitate.
As the entire team turned to him in unison, Long Zhan didn't deflect or stall. He met their gaze and gave his answer with easy confidence.
**"With great power comes great responsibility. Guess that wasn't just a line."**
With a faint grin and a bit of self-deprecating swagger, Long Zhan began stripping off his gear.
**"From this moment on, each of you owes me a drink. When we get home, I'm cashing in—one by one."**
The route ahead was brutal. Even Long Zhan wasn't *completely* confident he could cover it in time while carrying a full load.
So, he did the only sensible thing—shed the extra weight to maximize speed and give himself a 100% shot at success.
**"Then it's a deal. You've gotta come to my wedding—free drinks, all night."**
Murphy, growing more impressed by the second, took the chance to extend an invitation amid the banter.
**"Are the bridesmaids hot? I'm not showing up unless they're hot,"** Long Zhan shot back with a grin.
**"I've had my eye on the maid of honor for months. Looks like I've got competition now. Good thing I trust my game—you don't stand a chance."**
Marcus's playful jab lightened the mood. Laughter broke out among the team.
Matt and Dietz joined in too, helping Long Zhan off with his remaining gear while tossing more jokes about Murphy's wedding.
Soon, Long Zhan was stripped of his tactical vest, body armor, utility belt, and more.
He handed over his Mk48 light machine gun and tactical pack to Murphy for safekeeping.
All he kept was a sidearm for self-defense.
**"Alright. Time to move. Wish me luck."**
Time was ticking, and Long Zhan didn't waste another second. With a wave to the others, he turned and sprinted back in the direction they'd come—from the landing zone to the Healy waypoint.
Unburdened by the heavy gear, Long Zhan moved through the mountains like a force of nature.
In the stunned silence that followed, Murphy and the others watched his massive frame glide across the rough terrain—not lumbering or clumsy, but sleek and powerful, like a tiger slipping through the jungle.
Within seconds, he was gone from sight.