1586. The Farmer
"Should we fight?"
"They're our allies, aren't they?"
Shouts rose and fell over the walkie-talkies.
The neighboring farmers' willingness to launch a counterattack had taken everyone in the Canada operation team completely by surprise. They'd expected everyone to mind their own business. Who would go out of their way to help someone else when trouble came knocking?
"Fight! The fall guys are here! Get the beer ready, fire up the grill, let's have a BBQ!"
Li Bai's voice cut in.
The mainstay of American social life wasn't mahjong, poker, or gomoku, nor was it hot pot, lobster, or spicy soup. It was parties of all kinds. They weren't picky, as long as everyone had a good time. The cheapest and easiest option was a BBQ: grilled food and beer, maybe a loudspeaker playing line-dancing music and a swimming pool. That was enough to bring everyone together in no time.
"What kind of nonsense is this?"
Shi Boxue couldn't help grumbling, but in the end, he made up his mind.
"Pursue the fleeing enemy while we still have the strength. Don't make the mistake of letting them escape just to preserve a reputation."
"The Gatling's firing! Take cover!"
The moment the voice on the walkie-talkie fell silent, a tremendous burst of gunfire erupted. Tracer rounds swept across nearly half the farm like a flood, then vanished as abruptly as they'd appeared.
A six-barreled Gatling gun was a bottomless pit for ammunition. A single belt couldn't last long. The sensible way to use it was to fire in short bursts, not hold the trigger down like this.
A burst of hearty laughter rang out from where the hail of bullets had come from. Someone had clearly gotten a hell of a thrill out of it.
Someone was having a