Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 95: It Escalated Quickly

Thomas's words hung in the air like a blade poised to drop.

Lieutenant Colonel Santiago's expression barely shifted, but something about the way his fingers flexed slightly at his sides told Thomas everything he needed to know—this man had expected a different answer.

For a moment, neither side moved.

From above, Thomas knew his snipers were watching.

The Ironhold Garrison was poised and ready.

The Philippine soldiers? They were too still. Too measured. Too disciplined.

They weren't just here to talk.

A crackle of static broke the silence.

"Supreme Commander." Shadow 1's voice came through the radio in Thomas's earpiece. "Something's wrong. Their men in the trucks are shifting positions—subtle, but they're spreading out."

Thomas didn't react. He kept his expression calm, but his mind raced.

"Are they going for their weapons?" he asked quietly.

"Not yet," Shadow 1 replied. "But they're preparing for something."

Thomas felt it now—that familiar, electric tension before a firefight.

Santiago's expression remained unreadable, but his eyes flicked toward the snipers on the refinery catwalks—just for a fraction of a second.

It was a mistake.

A subtle, human mistake.

And it told Thomas everything.

Thomas made his decision in an instant.

His fingers twitched, a silent signal.

Captain Logan, standing at his right, reacted first.

He drew.

The moment the pistol left Logan's holster, Santiago moved.

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The lieutenant colonel lunged backward, shouting something in Tagalog.

Gunfire erupted.

A burst of automatic fire ripped through the air.

A split second later, sniper rounds cracked from the refinery catwalks, answering the ambush before it could fully take shape.

Thomas hit the dirt just as the world exploded around him.

The Humvee turret gunner spun, his rifle raising—

CRACK!

A sniper round took him clean through the head. The body slumped over the mounted gun, twitching.

The Philippine soldiers in the truck beds opened fire, spraying lead toward the Ironhold gate.

"Return fire!" Thomas barked.

Logan was already on the move, his rifle barking in controlled bursts as he ducked behind a sandbag barrier.

Ironhold's garrison troops, still in their defensive positions, unleashed hell.

Muzzle flashes flared from behind the refinery barricades, precision shots ripping into the soldiers outside.

The Philippine convoy was caught in a kill zone.

They had the numbers, but Ironhold had the advantage.

Snipers rained fire from above. Shadow 2's rifle cracked again—another headshot. A soldier slumped against a truck door, blood misting the glass.

Phillip, crouched behind a reinforced crate, lobbed a frag grenade toward one of the military trucks.

BOOM!

The explosion ripped through the side of the vehicle, flipping two soldiers off their feet.

Thomas vaulted over a metal barrier, sliding into cover beside Logan.

"We need to take out those trucks before they regroup!" Logan shouted over the gunfire.

Thomas grabbed his radio.

"Shadow 1, RPG on that second truck! NOW!"

A few heartbeats later—

WHOOOSH—

The RPG spiraled through the air, slamming into the second truck.

The vehicle detonated, a massive fireball engulfing several soldiers nearby. The blast wave sent debris flying across the battlefield.

But the Philippine troops kept coming.

Santiago had disappeared behind the lead Humvee, barking orders into his radio. His men weren't breaking.

These were professionals.

One of the Philippine soldiers broke cover, sprinting toward the refinery's outer gate with an M203 grenade launcher.

Thomas saw it too late.

"GRENADE INCOMING!"

THOOMP!

The grenade round arced through the air, heading straight for one of Ironhold's barricades.

BOOM!

The explosion sent two Ironhold soldiers flying, their bodies slamming against a rusted pipeline.

"Damn it!" Logan gritted his teeth. "We can't let them get closer!"

Thomas didn't hesitate.

He raised his MK18 rifle, fired three rounds—

The soldier with the grenade launcher dropped, blood spurting from his chest.

But more were coming.

From the left flank, three Philippine soldiers had breached a weak point in the refinery fencing.

One rushed in, bayonet fixed, screaming—

Thomas ducked.

The blade missed his throat by inches as he slammed the butt of his rifle into the attacker's gut.

The soldier staggered.

Thomas flipped his grip—fired once—

The bullet tore through the man's skull.

The battlefield was shifting.

The Philippine forces were losing.

Half their trucks were burning, their advance stalled by relentless counter-fire.

Santiago emerged from cover, blood on his uniform. He scanned the battlefield, assessing the situation.

His expression hardened.

He grabbed his radio, shouted something in Tagalog.

Then—

He turned to run.

Thomas saw it.

No.

Not today.

He raised his rifle.

CRACK.

The bullet hit Santiago in the leg.

The colonel collapsed, groaning in pain.

Ironhold soldiers swarmed him immediately, rifles trained.

The last shots rang out.

Smoke curled from the burning convoy.

The last few surviving Philippine troops dropped their weapons, hands raised.

It was over.

Ironhold had won.

Logan exhaled. "That was close."

Phillip kicked over a Philippine soldier's discarded rifle. "Too close."

Thomas approached Santiago's fallen form, kneeling beside him.

The colonel looked up, pain in his eyes—but also something else.

Resignation.

Thomas met his gaze.

"You should've just negotiated."

Santiago let out a strained chuckle. "That's not how the world works anymore."

Thomas stood.

"You're right."

He raised his pistol.

And pulled the trigger.

CRACK.

The last of the Philippine convoy was dead.

Ironhold had survived.

The refinery remained theirs.

But—he knew that there would be more of them. After all, he remembered that there are some of them.

"Eagle Actual to Overlord," Thomas talked through his radio.

"This is Overlord, send traffic," Marcus replied.

"We just engaged and eliminated a hostile convoy of Philippine Armed Forces. Their commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Santiago, is KIA," Thomas reported. Ironhold remains secure, but we expect retaliation."

A long pause followed on the other end.

Then, Marcus spoke. "Understood, Eagle Actual. Standby for intel."

Thomas turned away from Santiago's corpse, scanning the battlefield. Smoke still rose from the burning vehicles."

"Are there any injured?" Thomas asked.

Logan nodded grimly. "Two confirmed KIA from our side, five wounded. Most are minor, but one's in bad shape."

Thomas clenched his jaw. Losing men was always a possibility, but that didn't make it any easier.

"I'll summon the medics."

"Yes sir."