Chapter 1877 - 1402: Chaotic Press Conference

The first wave of shells landed with perfect salvos.

This was not a sporadic trial attack but a calculated surface coverage strike.

Twelve 152mm high-explosive shells hit successively within fifteen seconds, their impacts evenly distributed around the three bunkers of the base's core area.

The east side of the main building took four hits, all direct hits.

The first hit struck the load-bearing wall on the east side, causing the three-ton reinforced concrete structure to collapse inward, blocking one of the two firing slots.

One of the operators of the "Javelin" was blown away by the shockwave, hit the back wall, and his spinal cord broke instantly.

The second hit struck the middle of the roof.

The thirty-centimeter reinforcing layer was torn open like cardboard, and the explosion created an overpressure shock inside.

Six soldiers died on the spot, not from shrapnel, but because their internal organs ruptured under the instant pressure change.

Bleeding from all seven orifices, they silently fell.

The third shell deviated five meters, hitting the temporary ammunition storage on the west side of the hangar.

There were spare warheads of anti-tank missiles, machine gun ammo boxes, and hand grenades transferred from other locations.

A chain reaction from the sympathetic detonation made the entire west half of the hangar completely disappear, with flames shooting thirty meters into the sky.

The fourth was the most lethal.

It drilled through the hole in the roof and exploded at the entrance to the basement.

The structural support of the basement was completely destroyed, the ceiling collapsed entirely, burying alive all nine soldiers taking cover inside.

Lemont felt the tremor in the underground command post.

It wasn't a shake, but a violent shake of the entire ground heaving up and then falling.

The lights went out instantly, and the emergency power failed too.

Dust and debris fell from above, with coughs and suppressed moans in the darkness.

"Report the situation!"

He shouted into the tactical radio.

There was only static noise.

"Report the situation! Answer me!"

Silence.

Ryan groped in the dark for the hand-cranked generator and started turning the handle.

Dim light came on, illuminating the carnage in the command post.

Half the equipment was damaged, maps had fallen off the walls, a young intelligence analyst lay in the corner, his head hit by a fallen monitor, blood staining the floor.

"Communications with the upstairs east post are down," Ryan said, gasping for breath. "The heat sensor shows... no signs of life."

Lemont closed his eyes.

Nineteen people were in the east position inside the building.

Nineteen.

And the shelling continued...

00:28.

The second wave effective fire, eight shells, targeted the region of the underground command post and medical station.

This time the shells were different.

Not high-explosive shells, but concrete-penetrating shells.

Specifically designed to destroy reinforced structures, the warheads were harder, with more charges, and a delayed fuse ensured penetration deep into the target before detonation.

The first one landed twenty meters from the command post entrance.

The explosion flipped over the wreckage of Hummer used as cover, and the shockwave surged through the entrance passage, like an invisible giant hammer pounding on everyone.

Lemont was thrown against the wall, with excruciating pain from cracked ribs.

Ryan's freshly bandaged head wound was torn open, with fresh blood flowing from the forehead wound again.

The second and third shells hit almost simultaneously above the command post.

The reinforced top plate was designed to withstand indirect hits from 155mm shells but couldn't hold against the direct strike of 152mm concrete-penetrating shells.

The first explosion: the top plate developed web-like cracks.

The second explosion: the cracks widened, and the reinforcing bars were exposed.

The third explosion: a whole three-meter-square concrete block fell, hitting the communication equipment, sending sparks flying.

"The top plate is going to collapse!" someone screamed.

Lemont struggled to get up: "Everyone! Evacuate to the emergency exit! Now!"

That was the last path to survival.

The soldiers began to move, supporting the wounded, discarding unnecessary equipment.

But the escape passage was narrow, only one meter wide, allowing two people to pass at the same time.

The speed was still too slow.

The fifth shell hit.

This time, the top plate could no longer hold.

The five-ton reinforced concrete collapsed entirely, with the screech of twisted steel bars.

The last thing Lemont saw was Ryan leaping towards the young analyst with the head injury, trying to cover him with his body.

Then darkness descended, a heavy pressure came, and air was forced out of his lungs.

The world shrank to pain, darkness, and gradually fading consciousness.

He thought of his wife Catherine, recalled her smile in the video call yesterday: "When you come back, we'll go on a vacation to Tahoe Lake, just the two of us."

Thought of his ten-year-old son's baseball game, he had promised he would definitely attend the next one.

Sorry, Catherine.

Sorry, Michael.

The darkness completely devoured everything.

00:29, Song Heping's command vehicle.

Samir came to the door to report: "The thermal signals from the east side of the main building and the underground command post are gone! I estimate at least thirty people..."

"I know."

Song Heping stared at the screen, his voice frighteningly calm.

"Boss, haven't we killed too many... This is no longer a warning, this is a massacre! Washington will never—"

Being a nationalist of Illiguo, Samir hated the Americans, but a deep-rooted fear still lay within him.

That fear was instilled by the two Gulf Wars experienced by the people here.

"Washington is currently having an emergency meeting,"

Song Heping interrupted him, pulling up another screen, displaying the newly received intel: "They're debating three things: First, whether to admit the base has been lost; second, whether to continue the airstrike plan; third, how to explain to the public the loss of so many elite troops."

Reading the text, cold sweat dripped down Samir's forehead: "They're really considering bombing..."