Super Cute New To Marvel

  Chapter 88 Target Damascus

Prince Faisal, who is just forty years old this year, has a huge tribe of tens of thousands of people, and there are dozens of tribes under his vassal. He is also a thorn in the eye of the Ottomans, because he is also commanding the largest at present. The size of the Arab Resistance Army.

"Remember, try to be respectful. There are a few of your British officers beside the prince, but they are all here to eat, drink and have fun, not as good as you!" Ali riding a camel, constantly reminding Fisher that he should pay attention Matters.

  "The prince is now determined to take Damascus, but the Ottoman wolf king is like a sky for us. No matter how many cavalry and infantry we have, it is vulnerable to the wolf king!"

   "What about your artillery, didn't the British government sell you some artillery?"

"It's useless, the wolf king’s artillery has a longer range, and the Ottomans have an air force!" Said this, Ali’s eyes were suddenly full of yearning, "Those stable planes are like falcons, coming and going without a trace. , They drop bombs and they will easily kill the artillery!"

"Aircraft!" Fisher touched the stubble of his chin. The best aircraft Ottoman could equip during this period was the Fokker dr1 triplane. But Fisher estimated that relying on Ottoman's financial resources, the triplane The number of things may be small, but Fokker e, who has been eliminated in the European war, is very likely.

  "But Prince Faisal should like these gifts from you. We really need a victory, because the prince has been passive all the time. The prince is not so happy, and the vassal tribes also have their ideas!"

   "Don't worry, I'm here this time to give your prince my heart!"

   "Heart disease? How are you going?"

   "Take Damascus, isn't it enough?"

   "But Damascus has tens of thousands of Ottoman defenders. They have artillery, armored trains, and planes!"

   "Then we can **** these things, can't we?"

   "You're kidding!" Ali thought it might be the previous victory that made Fisher a little fluttering.

   "How do you know if you don't try?" Fisher waved his hand, then shook the pole in his hand, driving the camel all the way.

  Looking at the back of Fisher going away, Ali suddenly had a feeling, maybe Fisher could really do it?

  The two galloped along with their entourage and arrived at Prince Faisal's site less than 60 kilometers away from Damascus in only two days.

   "What's that?" Ali, who was waiting for the connector to appear, pointed to a small black spot that was traveling through the canyon.

   "That's a Fokker fighter!" Fisher jumped off the camel almost instantly, then dragged Ali down, and ran to the foot of the mountain with the camel.

"Quick, give me the machine gun!" Fisher, who took the Louis machine gun, opened the tripod and put the machine gun on the back of the camel. He was about to wait for the Fokker fighter to come over and give him a shuttle. It was just the blessing. Kee did not come over, but dropped his head over the canyon.

"what's the situation?"

   "That's Prince Faisal's camp!" Ali woke up like a dream, turned over and rode on a camel, and hurried over.

When Fisher followed him, what he saw was a scene of several Fokker e fighters raging in the sky over a huge military camp. Although the floor could only be licked by a bomb thrown by Maxine and the pilot, it was messy. The Arabs were enough. The barracks of tens of thousands of people exploded. Frightened camels and war horses fled around. The dizzy Arab soldiers also lost their helmets and armor and looked for shelter everywhere. In the crowd, one was riding a war horse with a white head. The samurai in a turban wielding a jeweled scimitar was chasing the plane and cursing.

   "Oh!" Fisher could only kick Ali's leg and make him kneel. Then Ali grabbed the tripod of the machine gun and pulled the trigger at the nearest Fokker.

The top shell of the roaring Louis machine gun turned, and the .303 brass shells clanged at Fisher's feet. Because there was no tracer bullet guide, Fisher could only try to adjust the ballistic roughly, a 47. After the bullets hit, the left wing of the Fokker e suddenly missed a piece.

   "Hit!" Ali slapped his muzzle and said excitedly.

   "I didn't hit it again!"

  Fisher dropped Louis, took a Lee Enfield from the back of the camel, and continued to shoot.

  Perhaps it was after dropping the bomb, or it was shocked by Fisher. The Fokker e fighters shook their wings and quickly flew away.

"Let's go, let's go see the prince!" After the plane left, the riots below the camp gradually subsided. Fisher put the shot rifle back on the back of the camel, followed Ali and trot all the way to Faisal. The prince's camp.

   "We must retreat!"

  Before seeing him, Fisher heard a very heavy British accent before he opened the curtain of the tent.

  "We have no air superiority, no firepower superiority, we must retreat, retreat to Egypt, rendezvous with the ANZAC there, and then come to attack Damascus!"

   "But, I can't leave my people alone!" Another voice retorted.

   "If your Highness chooses to go it alone, then the British Empire will not continue to provide support!" The British accent threatened again.

   "Can you give me some time to think?"

  "Retreat? You can win Damascus in three days. Why do you want to retreat?" Fisher opened the door curtain and walked into the camp, watching the crowds of people sitting inside.

   "Three days, your name is Lawrence, isn't it? Why, the officers coming out of the Arab Bureau are all bragging kings?" A British lieutenant colonel in a straight military uniform stood up and retorted.

  "The Egyptian army is a group of cowards? The soldiers on the European battlefield dared to face the German Maxim, you were scared by the Ottoman planes?"

  As Fisher and the British officer mocked each other, an Arab warrior sitting in the main seat was also looking at Fisher, and then Ali leaned in quietly, and after speaking to him, the Arab warrior stood up.

   "Then Mr. Lawrence knows the biggest obstacle to our victory over Damascus?"

   "It's nothing more than the armored train and the railroad cannon attached to it!"

   "Mr. Do you have a good strategy to break the enemy?"

"Not yet, but give me seven days and that armored train will no longer be your problem!" Fisher also turned and looked directly at the Prince Faisal, who was in Fisher's eyes. He saw something he hadn't seen for a long time, and that was the belief in victory.

  "Okay, then I will give you ten days. If that armored train is destroyed, then we will take Damascus directly, but what if we don’t get it done?"

   "Then you can't see me anymore!"

To be honest, I don’t know that there are so many professional killers and professional emotional experts among the readers who read this book. They provided me with a lot of detailed industry insider and expert comments. It’s a pity that I’ve called our bookstore owner. I died, and I didn’t find the works of these professionals. What a shame

  　　 There is one more night

  (End of this chapter)