Novel-X Chapter 211: Fire Mission
Chapter 211: Fire Mission
The real storm was still coming.
Nobody inside the command center spoke for several seconds.
The drone feeds continued updating across the massive screens.
Every update looked worse.
Every zoom-out revealed more infected.
Every reconnaissance report added another concentration.
Another highway.
Another town.
Another river crossing.
All moving toward the same destination.
Basa Air Base.
Ryan stared at the tactical display.
"...This is basically last year all over again."
Nobody disagreed.
Because he was right.
A year ago, they had faced a massive wave of infected.
The difference was that back then, nobody knew why it happened.
Now they did.
Now they knew there was an intelligence guiding the infected.
An intelligence capable of learning.
Planning.
Adapting.
And apparently retaliating.
Adrian stared at the map for several moments.
Then finally spoke.
"Wake everybody up."
The operations officers immediately looked toward him.
"No reserve status."
"No standby status."
"No delayed response."
His voice hardened.
"I want full mobilization."
The room instantly came alive.
Officers moved.
Phones rang.
Radio channels activated.
Alerts spread throughout the base.
Ryan looked toward the map again.
The infected continued moving.
Like rivers.
Like veins feeding toward a heart.
And that heart was Basa.
The operations officer immediately began issuing orders.
"Sound General Alert."
"Activate all perimeter sectors."
"Recall all patrol units."
"Launch every available reconnaissance drone."
"Wake artillery crews."
The command center erupted into organized chaos.
Nobody panicked.
These people had survived the apocalypse.
But everyone understood the seriousness.
Outside the command center, warning sirens began echoing across the base.
Long.
Low.
Powerful.
The sound carried through the night.
Personnel emerged from barracks.
Pilots rushed toward flight operations buildings.
Vehicle crews ran toward motor pools.
Mechanics headed toward maintenance areas.
The entire base was waking up.
Preparing for war.
Again.
Several kilometers away from the command center, inside a fortified artillery compound, floodlights suddenly illuminated rows of vehicles.
HIMARS launchers.
Dozens of them.
The crews were already running.
Helmet straps being tightened.
Radios being checked.
Fire control systems powering up.
One launcher commander climbed into his vehicle.
The display screens immediately came alive.
Coordinates began downloading from command.
Target zones.
Engagement sectors.
Priority areas.
The commander whistled softly.
"Looks like tonight’s gonna be busy."
His driver glanced at the screen.
Then frowned.
"Busy?"
The commander pointed toward the incoming target list.
The display just kept scrolling.
And scrolling.
And scrolling.
The driver slowly stared.
"...Never mind."
Back inside the command center, drone feeds continued updating.
The northern concentrations had reached alarming density.
Entire highways had vanished beneath infected bodies.
Abandoned vehicles disappeared beneath moving masses.
The infrared imagery almost resembled lava flows.
Except these flows were alive.
And heading toward them.
An intelligence analyst suddenly spoke.
"Sir."
Adrian looked toward him.
"What?"
The analyst pointed toward a highlighted section north of Tarlac.
"We’ve identified the densest concentration."
The map updated immediately.
A red circle appeared.
Then expanded.
Then expanded again.
Ryan stared.
"That’s huge."
The analyst nodded.
"Approximately sixty thousand infected."
The room became quiet.
Because sixty thousand was not a horde.
That was an army.
Adrian never took his eyes off the screen.
"Range?"
"Within HIMARS coverage."
That answer came immediately.
Adrian nodded.
"Then hit it."
The order spread instantly.
Miles away, artillery crews received updated fire missions.
Coordinates locked.
Launch parameters confirmed.
Target grids uploaded.
One battery commander keyed his radio.
"Battery Alpha ready."
Another voice answered.
"Battery Bravo ready."
Then another.
And another.
Soon the entire artillery network reported green status.
The commander looked toward his crew.
"Fire mission confirmed."
The soldiers exchanged looks.
Then one grinned.
"About time."
The command finally arrived.
"Execute."
The night exploded.
WHOOSH.
WHOOSH.
WHOOSH.
WHOOSH.
Rows of HIMARS launchers unleashed rockets simultaneously.
The sound rolled across Pampanga like thunder.
Dozens of guided rockets screamed into the sky.
Brilliant trails of fire illuminated the darkness.
One after another.
Battery after battery.
The launchers emptied their pods.
The rockets climbed.
Then accelerated northward.
Back inside the command center, operators tracked every launch.
The rockets appeared as moving icons crossing the tactical display.
The flight time was short.
Very short.
Then impact reports began arriving.
The northern drone feed suddenly flashed white.
The first rocket struck.
Then another.
Then another.
Then dozens more.
The landscape disappeared beneath explosions.
Fireballs erupted across highways.
Fields.
Bridges.
Abandoned towns.
Entire sections of infected concentrations vanished beneath overlapping detonations.
The drone operator stared.
"Direct hits."
The explosions continued.
The artillery barrage walked directly through the center of the horde.
Guided rockets impacted with frightening precision.
Every strike landed exactly where intended.
The infected never saw it coming.
Thousands died instantly.
The roads disappeared beneath fire.
Buildings collapsed.
Vehicles exploded.
Entire clusters simply ceased existing.
Ryan watched silently.
The barrage continued for nearly a minute.
Then finally ended.
The drone feed stabilized.
Smoke covered much of the impact area.
Burning debris littered the landscape.
The horde had been ripped apart.
Huge gaps appeared throughout the formation.
Several officers visibly relaxed.
Not much.
Just enough.
Then the analyst updated the count.
The room went quiet again.
"Estimated casualties?"
The drone operator checked the imagery.
Then answered.
"Twenty thousand plus."
That was impressive.
Very impressive.
Twenty thousand infected eliminated in a single coordinated strike.
A year ago that would’ve been considered impossible.
Yet tonight—
The infected still kept coming.
Because beyond the destroyed formations, more masses continued advancing.
The analyst zoomed out.
The gaps were obvious.
The destruction was obvious.
The effect was obvious.
But so was the problem.
There were still too many.
Far too many.
Adrian stared at the map.
Then pointed toward another concentration.
"Hit that one too."
The operations officer immediately nodded.
New coordinates began transmitting.
Another barrage was already being prepared.
Meanwhile, far away at Outpost Echo, Sergeant Reyes watched the northern horizon suddenly light up.
The explosions appeared distant.
Like a thunderstorm.
A very angry thunderstorm.
One soldier looked toward the flashes.
"What the hell is that?"
Reyes already knew.
"Artillery."
The machine gunner beside him smiled.
"Now that’s what I like to hear."
The horizon continued erupting.
Fire.
Smoke.
Explosions.
More explosions.
The infected approaching the outpost kept moving.
But now even they seemed tiny compared to the destruction unfolding farther north.
Because somewhere beyond the darkness—
Entire armies of infected were being erased.
One rocket at a time.
Back inside Basa Air Base, another warning suddenly appeared.
The operator looked up.
"Sir."
Adrian turned.
The man pointed toward the southern drone feed.
And immediately the room became quiet again.
Because while the north burned beneath artillery fire—
The south was still moving.
Still gathering.
Still growing.
The horde there looked just as large.
And it was heading straight toward them.
The battle had only begun.