RTS System in the Apocalypse-Chapter 119: Assault - III

The northern towers remained alive. Tracer rounds stitched across the compound.

Dmitri slammed behind the concrete barrier, his breath steady but muscles tight.

"LMG at the northeastern tower. Heavy suppression."

A bullet tore into the wall inches from Hopkins’s shoulder.

"That was too damn close," Hopkins muttered.

Concrete chipped and rained down around them.

Dmitri exhaled; he narrowed his eyes. The raiders had been amateurs until now.

He even wondered how they managed to occupy this military post.

But whoever was manning that LMG, they sure were lucky. And dangerous enough.

"Bastion One, this is Echo One-One. LMG suppression at northeastern tower. Requesting missile cover. Immediate."

The radio replied with static. After a moment, a voice cracked in.

"Echo One-One, this is Bastion One. Copy your request. Missile team deploying. Stand clear of blast radius."

Dmitri risked a glance upward.

The tower muzzle flashed again. Rounds hammered into the overturned vehicle that shielded their advance.

"Hold positions!" Dmitri barked. "Ping that target."

On the other side of the compound, the rear hatch of a Guardian APC hissed open.

A Missile Infantry stepped out; he dropped to a knee. His eyes reflected the map ping visible only to the system’s units.

"Target acquired."

The launcher hummed softly as guidance locked onto the highlighted tower.

Three seconds passed; the LMG roared again in vain.

The missile ignited with a violent backblast.

A streak of fire tore across the night. The northeastern tower disappeared in a burst of flame and concrete.

Shockwave rippled through the compound, raining down debris like a metal hail.

The LMG fell off the tower, silent in its reckoning.

Silence lingered for half a second before another burst of LMG screamed in the northwestern side.

"Bastion One, this is Echo Two One! Send a missile into that tower, over!"

Another ping flashed across the system’s shared interface.

The Missile Infantry adjusted his angle. The second tower slid into perfect alignment.

Three seconds passed by again.

The second missile streaked upward.

The tower exploded more violently than the previous. Fragments shot everywhere, leaving no piece intact.

One raider hollered around in flames and fell to his death.

Dmitri rose from cover.

"Thanks for the assist, Bastion One. Echo One-One, out."

The Echo and Delta squads advanced.

Within minutes, the remaining raiders either surrendered or fell.

The compound belonged to them, but now, it was time for a change of hands.

The engines of three Guardian APCs rumbled through the shattered gate. Their headlights cut across the smoke-filled courtyard.

The armored SUV trailed behind. Hans stepped out; his boots touched the scarred concrete.

He swept his gaze across the compound.

Corpses littered around. The northern towers collapsed.

Debris burned brightly in the night. And hostages being escorted out of the fight.

Barely was there any chaos nor confusion—a result much to Hans’s satisfaction.

Delta One approached first.

"Compound secured, Commander. Hostages are safe. Minimal friendly injuries."

Hans nodded.

"Casualties?"

"Aside from raiders, none."

"That’s good to hear," Hans sighed in relief.

Dmitri removed his helmet, sweat lining his brow. For the first time since his enactment to service, his face was fully visible under the compound lights.

Short dark hair clung to his forehead ladened with sweat. A black monocle covered his right eye, the strap cutting across his sharp features.

His exposed left eye remained steady and cold, the kind that measured distance and probability without hesitation.

There was no triumph in his expression, only a smug confirmation.

"Two missiles expended. LMG towers neutralized."

Hans glanced upward at the remains of the northern towers.

They had good elevation but poor reinforcement. The raiders fully relied on the stock weapons and height, not discipline.

Behind him, several rescued civilians stared in awe. A woman’s gaze lingered longer at Matilda.

"That’s our savior..." her eyes shifted to Hans. "And who is that man beside her... She called her commander?"

Hans ignored the whispers. He walked slowly across the courtyard, stepping over shattered glass.

"How’s the perimeter?"

"Outer wall is intact on three sides," Dmitri answered. "South compromised by our assault."

Hans crouched briefly near a sandbag line; he found the stacking uneven.

Fire arcs barely overlapped with blind spots near the western face.

"What about supplies?"

"Fuel reserves in the basement," Matilda answered. "Ammunition stock is moderate. Generator is operational."

"How many weapons can that stock arm?"

"At least a hundred mags."

"Is that so?" Hans furrowed his brows. "That’s a lot."

He shifted his attention to the loud whining of the generators. "Quite miraculous for this group to power those up."

Fuel was one thing. The knowledge to operate them without flaw was another; maintaining them for so long was taking it further.

Dmitri and Matilda remained silent.

"Scavenge any parts we can use," Hans ordered. "Don’t forget to collect any valuable materials your squads can find."

"Should we order the troops to rest, Commander?" Matilda was concerned.

Hans affirmed. "Set up defenses around us. That missile launch was loud. Something is ought to be drawn by it."

"Understood, Commander."

Dmitri and Matilda saluted; Hans waved them into dismissal.

He entered the main office; two men and two women trailing behind him.

Inside, blood lined up on the walls; lights on the ceilings flickered incessantly like in a horror movie.

"Let’s take a small trivia, shall we?" Hans spoke out of nowhere.

"What are you up to now?" Yunera upped her guard.

"Imagine yourself as the raider leader that encountered this military post—abandoned but infested with a large horde of infected. How will you reclaim this territory with minimal casualties?"

Callum remained silent.

Kimmy and Yunera’s mind ran with countless thoughts.

But Johannes answered fast enough.

"Lure the infected to someplace else."

"And which direction would that be?" A sharp glint rose from Hans’s eyes.

"West, far enough that they won’t hear the—" Johannes cut himself off.

The hallway went silent.

Yunera was left hanging in the air, tugging Kimmy’s dress.

"What are they even talking about?" she whispered.

Kimmy felt helpless but she still replied. "Sister Yunera, it means that a wave will reach this military base soon."

"Reach?" Yunera was confused. "But why?"

"The..." Kimmy paused. "The missile launcher was loud. We could hear it kilometers away. Anything else could have heard it too."

"Then why aren’t we setting up defenses?"

"They... already are."

Kimmy’s head stared straight ahead. The layout of the whole compound unfolded in her mind.

Small sparks that crackled amidst the fire.

Hard boots that pounded the earth in a rhythmical pattern.

And the tanks’ tracks that grinded each other as it positioned itself in a defensive manner.

But her spatial vision didn’t stop there. It extended farther than what Matilda herself could do.

In the distant west, smoke drifted into the night sky.

Far beyond the tree line, a faint tremor rolled across the darkness.

Silhouettes of rotting corpses advanced; their eyes locked in at the distant military post.