"That was terrifying... like hell on earth. God help me if I ever run into anything like that again."
Matt peered through his high-magnification scope into the blast zone, taking in the hellish scene of mangled corpses strewn across the ground. Even as a bystander, his heart pounded with lingering dread.
No one could survive an encounter with that kind of daisy-chained anti-personnel minefield.
True to its name, the Claymore—an infamous anti-personnel killer—unleashed destruction with chilling precision. The overlapping kill zones of just two Claymores instantly turned a 40-man unit into a field of death.
Even Matt, Murphy, and the others stood dumbstruck—not to mention Long Zhan, the "culprit" himself.
Originally, Long Zhan had expected to take out maybe half of the enemy force. He'd assumed the rest would need to be mopped up in coordination with Murphy's team, which was why he'd taken the risk of infiltrating to the village's edge—close enough to maximize lethality with direct fire.
In the end, the Claymores had done nearly all the work.
Only a handful of wounded Taliban fighters remained, and they could be picked off with ease from a distance. His risky forward position now seemed unnecessary.
Murphy had been closest to the blast zone, and he had witnessed the horrific carnage more clearly than anyone else.
He was silent for a long time.
Only when Long Zhan began clearing the site—methodically finishing off the wounded Taliban who were writhing and screaming in agony on the ground—did Murphy finally speak over the radio, his voice tight with shock:
"Zhan... you're a goddamn devil."
"Devil or hero, it doesn't matter to me. I just want to survive. Mercy to the enemy is cruelty to yourself."
Long Zhan's reply was cold and matter-of-fact, reverberating through the team's comms channel.
Listening to his chilling words while staring at the man-made hellscape he'd crafted, Murphy and the others were shaken to their core.
Only now did they fully realize—Long Zhan wasn't just some brute in a beastly frame.
He harbored violence in the deepest parts of his soul. He was a madman—a monster—willing to do anything to stay alive.
What kind of man could create such carnage? What was Long Zhan's real background?
That question now burned in the minds of Murphy and his team.
With the destruction of the 40-man assault unit, the immediate crisis was averted. The team was left in stunned relief, their taut nerves finally loosening.
On the other side, Shah was both furious and helpless after his elite force had been wiped out in one fell swoop.
He didn't dare move now. For all he knew, the surrounding woods could be rigged with more of those nightmare traps. The fear of the unknown rooted him in place.
He stayed holed up in the village, calling in his trusted lieutenant, Tariq, to discuss a new plan.
Once again, both sides entered a deadlock. The village of Kadaku—still stained with blood and fire—settled into an uneasy quiet.
But the silence was only temporary.
By the time Long Zhan finished clearing the minefield, it was already past 2:40 p.m.
The QRF—Quick Reaction Force—that had set out over half an hour ago was now less than 30 kilometers from Kadaku.
Overhead, F-15 fighter jets armed with laser-guided missiles had already taken off from Bagram Air Base.
The sword of Damocles now hovered overhead.
Shah, still deep in conversation with his men, had no idea that his end was minutes away.
At exactly 2:55 p.m., a missile streaked through the sky, leaving a white contrail as it shot past the mountains and jungle—on a direct path to Kadaku.
Long Zhan and the others watched as it whistled down from the heavens and drilled straight into the building being marked by a laser designator.
*BOOM—*
The explosion shattered the sky. A mushroom cloud erupted, climbing high above the village.
In a fraction of a second, the two-story building sheltering Shah and Tariq was engulfed in fire and smoke.
Taliban fighters guarding the perimeter were flung aside like ragdolls by the shockwave.
Surrounding buildings collapsed under the force of the blast.
Screams and cries erupted everywhere. Kadaku, silent just seconds earlier, had turned into pure chaos.
*Thump-thump-thump...*
The distant roar of helicopter rotors echoed from the sky.
It was clearly a well-coordinated strike—air-to-ground missile followed by air assault.
With Shah's safehouse blown to rubble and no chance of survivors, the remaining Taliban fighters inside the village were completely shattered in spirit.
And now, a helicopter formation was heading straight toward them.
Seeing that, whatever fighting will they had left instantly collapsed.
Driven by primal survival instinct, both Taliban fighters and civilians alike lost all capacity for rational thought.
Panic became contagious. One ran, the others followed.
Not wanting to be trapped inside the village for a final slaughter, the remaining Taliban fled in all directions, ignoring any risk of ambush in the woods.
The armed men, indistinguishable from civilians in the chaos, dispersed into the jungle in all directions.
Murphy's team had no way to intercept them, nor any reason to.
At this point, it was better to let them run—to spare themselves the risk of unnecessary engagement.
They allowed the enemy to flee into the trees.
As the helicopter formation swept in and began landing on a road just 100 meters from the village, most of the enemy and villagers had already scattered.
A few stubborn holdouts posed no threat to the incoming QRF.
With the mission far exceeding expectations, Murphy's team no longer had any role to play. They emerged from the woods and regrouped with the arriving helicopters.
Only after they were seated inside the chopper did the tension finally release.
Looking back on the entire operation, Long Zhan, Murphy, and the others leaned back in their seats and shared a weary, incredulous smile.
What had started as a routine special reconnaissance mission had somehow morphed into a full-on direct action raid.
The most unbelievable part?
A five-man team had managed to corner and decimate a 200-man force—killing over 60 in the process.
Had they not lived through it themselves, no one would've believed it.
It was the kind of mission so outrageous, so unreal, not even dreams could conjure it.