What Joe Ga referred to as vehicle-mounted rocket launchers was no joke; this hardware had already become standard issue for armed personnel in many hotspots.
The most cost-effective should be the Soviet-made 'Flute' rocket launcher, standard issue for the Syria government forces.
Mounted on pickup trucks, when they encounter enemy positions, they would just pour 80 S-8 old-model 80mm rockets over the enemy and then turn tail and run.
It's actually not easy to hit targets precisely with rocket fire, but since these are cheap to produce with a long shelf life, even old Soviet surplus can still be used. When facing enemies, they just provide covering fire—there's no real need to aim precisely, making it a divine weapon for combat in various low-intensity conflict zones.
With Joe Ga's ability, installing a pair of rocket nests on a pickup truck was not difficult. After measuring up, even without the Omnipotent Toolbox, relying on his hands-on skills cultivated over the years, he would not be much worse than a skilled artisan.
Such tasks required immediate action without any delay. Joe Galla took Karman and Nis to find two military trucks in the warehouse and then started to change the oil, transmission fluid, coolant, brake fluid, and so on of the trucks, using the equipment in the hangar after a scan with the toolbox's scanning tool.
The warehouse was quite well sealed, so the military trucks parked inside were in much better condition than the tanks and armored vehicles outside.
A few hours later, under Karman's admiring gaze, Joe Ga successfully started the two trucks.
He left the task of loading the cargo to Karman and Nis. At this moment, Joe Ga had no intention of showing mercy, focusing on driving his pickup into the hangar. Then, using the Omnipotent Toolbox, he scanned and measured, and after determining the modification plan, he began the 'major project' on the pickup's cargo bed.
In fact, it wasn't too difficult. There were ready-made empty racks for air rockets in the ammunition depot. He just needed to cut them down and do a slight modification to turn them into suitable mounting racks.
The only trouble was to allow the rack to adjust the elevation angle up and down, after all, the vehicle could handle the rocket launcher's orientation, but not the elevation.
But this was not a problem for craftsman Joe Ga—it only took a few strokes on the blueprint for him to find a solution.
He went to the armory to find a few brand-new mortars, disassembled the mounts entirely, and with simple welding, he could use the height adjusters on the mortar mounts to solve the elevation angle issue.
Since they were for one-time use anyway, Joe Ga did not consider fine craftsmanship. He reinforced the bottom of the pickup's cargo bed with steel plates and welded the crudely assembled mounts solidly in place.
The next day, after finishing the work, Joe Ga felt quite brilliant.
On the semi-new pickup's cargo bed lay two B-8B20A-type rocket nests, typically used on armed helicopters, which could have their firing angle adjusted using the mortar's height adjuster. Sёarᴄh the Novёlƒire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
It's no wonder the Russians are so tough—despite how simple these 20-round circular rocket nests appear, they exude an air of robust poorness.
If sold to guerrillas, these would easily fetch tens of thousands—anything less would not do justice to its menacing appearance.
When the finished product was presented before Karman and Nis, both were astonished.
If Karman had previously merely respected Joe Ga's marksmanship and appreciated his generosity, now he looked at Joe Ga in an entirely different way.
This was the natural reverence that an illiterate has for a technically-skilled craftsman, unrelated to age.
In Karman's eyes, being able to shoot or kill was nothing special. Those who could create 'sophisticated' hardware were 'cultured people,' 'engineers,' deserving respect.
Nis, on the other hand, had seen something similar in Liberia and knew its power well.
In urban settings, rockets had a rather average effect on those hidden inside buildings. But in a place as desolate as Darfur, this was a weapon of mass destruction.
The terrorist leader around here probably only lives in a brick house at best, with most of his underlings dwelling in tin shacks. With a round of forty 80mm high-explosive bombs raining down, how much fighting power could any survivors possibly have left?
"Jindawei" claims to have thousands of men under him, but that's just the mob he can muster. The real core of his group is at most around three hundred, and if a rocket hits them right on the mark, well, you know the outcome.
Seeing the surprised looks on Karman and Nis's faces, Joe Ga wiped his hands with a rag, removing some grease, and then proudly said, "I think no terrorist can withstand an attack from this thing. If they do, we can always add a little something extra..."
"What?"
Facing a puzzled Nis, Joe Ga laughed and pointed at two boxes in the back of the pickup truck, saying, "I found these beauties in the arsenal, old Russki MON-90 anti-personnel mines.
I'd seen them online before. These things weigh 25 kilograms, and once they detonate, it's pretty much impossible for anything to survive within a 200-meter frontal arc.
Initially, my thought was to ambush Jindawei after the deal goes down, then head over to their base to see if we could engage, but now I've changed my mind.
Besides the MON-90, we can also bring some smaller MON-50 directional mines. We can try them out at the time of trade, and even if it's not a success, we can still follow them back to their camp and then figure out a way to kill those bastards all at once."
As he spoke, Joe Ga looked at Nis with her complex expression and said with a smile, "Babe, I hope I won't let you down.
Your brother died covering me, and if I have a chance, I'd be glad to take revenge for him."
After a moment of silence, Nis nodded gratefully and said, "Thank you, boss!"
Joe Ga wanted to say something to deepen their camaraderie when Karman, rubbing his hands together eagerly, said, "Where are those directional mines? I've seen their effectiveness when I was a mercenary in Sierra Leone. They're incredibly powerful, but can I use them if I don't know how to read?"
Joe Ga spread his hands and said, "You just need to face the side with the writing towards the enemy. That's the design for directional mines in all countries.
Actually, most weapons are quite simple. The important thing is to be cautious and careful when using them, so you don't blow yourself up. That'd be truly stupid.
You'll definitely have no trouble using them, but make sure you let me know when you're about to, okay? We're both amateurs with only one life to live; you can never be too careful."
Karman was an old soldier; a person like him wouldn't be alive today if he weren't cautious.
Eager about the new toys, Karman said, rubbing his hands together, "What are we waiting for, then? Let's dig them out and load up."
Joe Ga waved his hand with a smile and said, "We've got plenty of time. The first thing we need to do is come up with codenames or nicknames for ourselves.
The stuff we're doing isn't exactly legal, and when we go out on jobs, we shouldn't use our real names or old nicknames, as that could leave a trail that's easy to trace.
Lemme give you an example, I'm known as 'Hu Lang', and you wouldn't even know that my real name is actually Joe Ga..."
Nis silently mouthed the name Joe Ga, "Jon Qia, George..."
Joe Ga shook his head to correct Nis's pronunciation, laughing and saying, "Joe Ga is my real name, my codename is 'Hu Lang'. I told you because we're now one team, but if you want to remember it as George, I wouldn't mind.
Now, think about your own codenames. They should be different from your past, as they will be the names we use out in the world. It's very important, and you'll have to get used to it."
"Codenames?"