Chapter 498: Bullying

This was the "big gun" Jack had brought with him ever since he first joined the joint task force. Back then, Matt had even teased him about whether such heavy firepower was really necessary.

Jack didn't know if he could find a similar handy weapon within the U.S., but the one he had now was something CWS (Clearwater Security) had sourced from the Middle East.

In recent years, the wealthy princes there had stopped exclusively buying the most expensive gear. Instead, practical and reasonably priced equipment, like drones, had become popular, and this grenade launcher was no exception.

"I need the sniper's position!"

Jack shouted while stuffing grenade drums into his pockets. Each drum held four rounds, but they were as bulky as a 50-round 5.56 NATO magazine. His tactical vest couldn't fit them, so he had to shove them into his pockets, one on each side.

"Ten o'clock, 350 meters in front of your vehicle!" The operations center finally delivered, and the drone, now back in the air, accurately located the sniper. Regardless of what type of anti-material rifle he was using, the dust cloud stirred up by his shots had given him away.

The rest of the squad didn't know what Jack was up to or who was speaking, but they could guess he was preparing to counter the sniper. Gunfire intensified as people in the remaining two Humvees disembarked to help clear the remaining enemies on the right.

Unlike Jack's armored Suburban, the rest of the team had no choice but to stay in their vehicles, awaiting their fate. Without additional armor, even military Humvees, slightly sturdier than civilian vehicles, were no match for .50 caliber bullets.

On the left side of the road, the sniper and another group of gunmen pinned them down. However, backed by the car's frame and tires, the experienced PMC team managed to clear the few survivors on the right who had escaped the Hellfire missiles.

Once Jack loaded the grenade drum labeled "BGL3A," he manually adjusted the fire control system, setting the detonation parameters. Then, he tapped Alessandro on the shoulder.

"Cover me!"

With that, Jack hefted the nearly 30-pound grenade launcher, opened the right door, and crouched down to exit. He moved to the front of the vehicle, deployed the bipod, and silently counted the sniper's shots while estimating the direction.

Alessandro followed, crouching behind the rear tire for cover. He ensured the right side of the road was clear, holding his HK417 steady as he waited for Jack to take his shot.

"Boom!"

The Suburban shuddered as another .50 caliber round hit it, shaking the vehicle. Jack stood up and rested the grenade launcher on the hood, barely taking aim before he fired four quick shots in a 10-degree arc toward the location given by the operations center.

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!" The loud blasts echoed across the battlefield, with the powerful shockwave momentarily taking Jack's breath away.

Even with his shoulder strong enough to absorb the recoil from consecutive shots with a Barrett MK22, Jack was caught off guard by the force. This thing was designed as a semi-automatic, which was borderline insane—most people would need time to recover after firing just one round.

The grenades had a muzzle velocity of about 240 meters per second, meaning it took just over a second to travel the 350-meter distance. Then, in a split second, the destruction rained down.

The grenade launcher Jack was using was technically the LG5A, a slightly more advanced version of the original model. It allowed him to use programmable airburst grenades.

These programmable grenades had a chip inside. When Jack manually set the detonation mode and distance via the fire control system earlier, the grenade received the data as soon as it left the barrel.

Once it reached the predetermined distance, the chip automatically detonated the warhead, no longer requiring impact for activation.

That's why Jack hadn't bothered to aim precisely from the start. The times had changed—counter-sniper operations no longer required a battle of wits. Once the position was identified, overwhelming firepower was all that was needed.

Each "BGL3A" airburst grenade had a kill radius of 8 meters, which meant that four of them, detonating in sequence, effectively covered over 100 square meters—small compared to a Hellfire missile, but still devastating in the open terrain.

After the four grenades detonated, the battlefield fell silent. Only the crisp gunfire from Alessandro's HK417 broke the stillness, as he faithfully carried out Jack's command to provide cover.

Moments later, gunfire erupted once more, but this time, it was a one-sided barrage from their side.

Jack quickly loaded another four-round magazine and moved to a new position behind the Humvee that had been reduced to scrap by an RPG. Despite the intense heat from the burning fuel tank, he held his aim toward the ambush position in the distance.

To be honest, setting up an ambush in an open desert wasn't the best idea.

Though the enemy had initially used camouflage tarps to avoid detection by the drone, it only gave them a momentary advantage. With the sniper neutralized, the remaining gunmen were no match for the experienced PMC team.

As gunfire resumed, the disorganized enemy forces were quickly suppressed, forced to hunker down in the sand, unable to lift their heads. With no large rocks to provide cover in the desert, the highway's vehicles were the only decent defense.

This time, Jack didn't bother manually adjusting the fire control system. Instead, he used his scope to search for the remaining hostile forces, and sure enough, a familiar face appeared in his sights.

Ian Doyle, now a shadow of his former self, had once been accompanied by a loyal subordinate named Liam. But after Liam's ill-fated attack on Jack's home, in which twelve elite operatives were gunned down by a Vulcan cannon, Doyle had been left with nothing.

Doyle, who had left early that day, hadn't known the full extent of the disaster. After returning to Mexico alone, he had been hiding, licking his wounds and plotting revenge against Jack and his family.

Jack's suspicions were correct. The mastermind advising Carlos Jr. was none other than Doyle. It was Doyle's idea to plant traitors within the Mexican federal police and to strike early on the road.

Carlos Jr. had spared no expense for this operation, and Doyle had thrown in everything he had, including his remaining RPGs and two Stinger missile launchers.

Doyle himself had fired one of the Stinger missiles that took down the Black Hawk, unwilling to rely on the cartel's poorly trained members for such a crucial task.

Initially, everything had gone according to plan. They had used one team to force the drone to expend its Hellfire missiles, achieved fire superiority with the Barrett sniper rifle, and even downed a helicopter.

But they hadn't counted on Jack—an unpredictable wildcard. Doyle had expected a standard sniper duel, but instead, grenades rained down on his position, and his carefully hidden sniper team had been shredded in an instant.

Seeing the situation turn against him, Carlos Jr. grew desperate. Hiding behind a boulder, he waved his handgun wildly, trying to force his men to charge the remaining defenders.

In his mind, they still had a chance. There were more than twenty of them left, and with just a final push, they could overwhelm the seven or eight survivors on the other side. This was his last stand—he had brought every resource he had.

If he failed to kill Old Carlos now, he wouldn't be able to stop the old man's allies from crushing him when he returned.

While Carlos Jr. couldn't figure out what weapon had instantly wiped out his sniper, he assumed it had run out of ammo, just like the Hellfire missiles from the drone.

Doyle, however, wasn't as foolish. If not for the fear of being shot by Carlos Jr., he would have already found a way to escape with his men.

As Doyle continued to fire short bursts toward the highway, pretending to contribute, he had no idea that his steady, methodical firing rhythm had made him stand out from the rest of the chaotic gunfire. Jack had already locked onto him.

The LG5A grenade launcher, with its massive size, was equipped with an equally massive scope. To be precise, it was more of a fire control system, complete with a laser rangefinder and ballistic computer.

In Jack's previous life, this sniper grenade launcher had earned its reputation for being able to send a grenade through a bunker's observation window from 600 meters away, thanks to this fire control system.

As soon as Jack pressed the range button, an invisible laser beam shot out, instantly measuring the distance. The ballistic computer calculated the firing solution, projecting a glowing dot onto the scope.

It was like playing an FPS game with an aimbot. All that remained was to pull the trigger and brace for the recoil.

At a range of just over 200 meters, the grenade's trajectory was almost perfectly straight. As Jack aligned the reticle on Doyle's head and pulled the trigger, the next moment, the notorious terrorist, whom Jack had been hunting for days, was engulfed in an explosion, reduced to nothing but a cloud of blood.

Exhausted, Jack sighed. "I'm beat... I've gone overboard today."

[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! Only $5 per novel or $15 for all!!] [www.p@treon.com/Mutter]

[+50 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]

[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]