Joga's idea of a rocket launcher mounted on a truck was no joke; this kind of equipment had become standard for armed personnel in many hot zones. The most practical option was the Russian-made 'Smerch' rocket launcher, a staple for Syrian government forces. Mounted on a pickup truck, it could unleash 80 S-8 rockets and then drive off quickly.
Hitting the target with rockets wasn't easy, but these were cheap, had a long shelf life, and even old Soviet stock was still usable. When facing enemies, a blanket fire was enough; precision wasn't necessary, making it ideal for low-intensity conflict zones.
With Joga's skills, mounting two rocket pods on a pickup truck wasn't too difficult. Measuring the dimensions, he could manage this without the universal toolbox. His practical skills, honed over the years, were nearly as good as those of a professional craftsman.
No time was to be wasted, so Joga, with Kaman and Niss, found two military trucks in the warehouse. After checking them with the universal toolbox, they used the hangar's equipment to change the oil, transmission fluid, coolant, and brake fluid on the trucks.
The warehouse had good sealing, so the military trucks inside were in much better condition than those exposed to the elements outside.
A few hours later, with Kaman watching admiringly, Joga successfully started both trucks. He assigned Kaman and Niss the task of loading supplies and immediately turned his attention to modifying the pickup truck he had brought.
Joga had no intention of being gentle with the truck. He drove it into the hangar, and using the universal toolbox to scan and measure, he finalized his modification plan. He started the 'big project' on the truck's bed.
It wasn't too hard. The ammo depot had some empty iron frames for rocket pods, which, after cutting and slightly modifying, could be used as mounts. The only challenge was to make the mounts adjustable for elevation angles, as the truck could adjust the direction of the rocket launcher, but elevation was fixed.
This challenge didn't daunt Joga. He quickly sketched a few lines on a blueprint and found a solution. He went to the arms depot, took a few new mortar tubes, and after dismantling and welding their stands, he adapted them to adjust the elevation angles of the rocket pods.
Since these were essentially disposable items, Joga didn't worry about precision craftsmanship. He welded steel plates to the truck bed's bottom, firmly attached the crude mounts, and made sure everything was secure.
By the next day, Joga was quite pleased with himself. On the truck bed of a semi-new pickup, he had mounted two B-8B20A rocket pods intended for helicopters. The mortar stands allowed adjustment of the firing angles.
Old Russian technology may not look sophisticated, but it was sturdy and effective. If sold to guerrillas, this setup would be worth tens of thousands, given its formidable appearance.
When Kaman and Niss saw the finished product, they were stunned. If Kaman had previously admired Joga's marksmanship and generosity, his view now was entirely different. It was the awe of a layperson toward technical skill, independent of age.
In Kaman's eyes, being able to shoot and kill wasn't as impressive as being able to create 'high-tech' devices. Such a person was seen as a 'cultural figure' or 'engineer,' worthy of respect.
Niss, having seen similar things in Libya, understood their power. In urban settings, rocket fire had limited impact on those inside buildings, but in a place like Darfur, it was a major weapon. The local terrorists' leader lived in a brick house, while his subordinates mostly resided in tin shacks. Forty 80mm explosive rockets would significantly reduce their fighting capacity.
Kindeweike might boast of thousands of followers, but only around 300 were his core team. If hit by rockets, their fate was sealed.
Seeing Kaman and Niss's astonished expressions, Joga wiped the grease from his hands and proudly said, "I don't think any terrorist can withstand this attack. If needed, we can add a little more firepower…"
"What do you mean?"
Seeing Niss's puzzled look, Joga smiled and pointed to two boxes in the truck bed. "These are MON-90 anti-personnel mines I found in the arms depot. I saw these online before. They weigh 25 kilograms, and once detonated, they create a 200-meter cone of destruction with no survivors."
"Initially, I planned to ambush Kindeweike on the road after the transaction and then check their base for another attack. But I've changed my mind. Besides MON-90s, we can also bring some smaller MON-50 directional mines. We can try using them during the transaction. Even if it doesn't work, we can track them to their base and find a way to eliminate them all at once."
Joga looked at Niss's mixed expression and said with a smile, "Beautiful, I hope I don't let you down. Your brother died while covering me. If given the chance, I'd be glad to avenge him."
Niss remained silent for a moment, then nodded gratefully. "Thank you, boss!"
Before Joga could say more to deepen their bond, Kaman, eager to get started, asked, "Where are those directional mines? I've seen their power when I was a mercenary in Sierra Leone. They're really impressive, but can I use them even though I can't read?"
Joga shrugged. "Look at the side with text and point it towards the enemy. All directional mines are designed this way. Most weapons are simple; the key is to use them carefully. Don't blow yourself up; that would be really foolish. If you want to use them, just let me know. We're both novices, and one life is all we have. We should be as cautious as possible."
Kaman, being an old soldier, knew that a lack of caution could be deadly. Facing this new tool, he eagerly said, "So what are we waiting for? Let's get the stuff and load up the truck."
Joga waved and smiled. "We still have plenty of time. Now we need to come up with codenames or nicknames. Our work is illegal, so we shouldn't use our real names or old nicknames when out and about. It's easier to leave traces. For example, my real name is Joga, but my codename is 'Wolf'…"
Niss repeated Joga's name softly, "Jon Qia, George…"
Joga shook his head, correcting Niss's pronunciation with a smile. "Joga is my real name, but my codename is 'Wolf'. I'm telling you this because we are a team now. If you remember it as George, I won't mind. But now, think of your own codenames. They need to be different from before. This will be our identity in the field, so it's very important and should become a habit."
"Codename?"