The Ultimate War Of The Apocalypse
Chapter 553 - 546 Pyro-thief

Chapter 553: Chapter 546 Pyro-thief

Inside an unmanned drone control vehicle, a young man in a blue work uniform, who had an insignia of the U.S. Marine Corps Evil Eye Unmanned Aerial Vehicle Reconnaissance Squadron on his arm and was holding a drone control stick in his hands, suddenly yelled as he stared at the monitor screen.

"Sir! Target spotted, the target is suspected to be the Pyro-thief."

With the drone operator’s exclamation, a middle-aged man in the same blue work uniform who had been fidgeting in the control vehicle immediately leaned over.

"Zoom in! Zoom the image!"

In the image sent back by the RQ-7B drone’s onboard thermal imaging, a red figure swiftly ran out from the arsenal, a speed no ordinary human could possess.

"Thermal comparison... thermal comparison!"

Amidst excited yet restrained shouting, an operator compared the drone’s captured thermal signal to the information database, and just as excitedly exclaimed, "The heat source temperature is 93 degrees Fahrenheit higher than that of a zombie, it’s not a zombie, not a zombie!"

No comparison was needed, as the conclusion could be drawn just by observing the target’s movements: the rapidly running humanoid heat source wasn’t a zombie, it absolutely wasn’t!

The commander immediately grabbed the radio and said quickly, "Sir, the Pyro-thief is located! Repeat, the Pyro-thief is located, I’m very certain!"

After putting down the radio, the commander unhesitatingly ordered, "Directive for all Hornets to head to E44 Coordinate Zone immediately!"

"Sir, the E44 Coordinate Zone is a high-risk flight area..."

The commander immediately glared fiercely at his subordinate, then he bellowed again, "All Hornets to proceed to E44 Coordinate Zone immediately! Immediately!"

"Yes, sir. All Hornets heading to E44."

"Enter in waves, two drones per wave, altitude one thousand feet, spacing four hundred feet, altitude difference one hundred feet."

"Enter in waves, two per wave, altitude one thousand, spacing two hundred, altitude difference one hundred."

When the commander gave an order, the operators would issue it again, because Hornets represented micro-drones, and each person’s operating limit was four, while their total number of Hornet drones was forty.

Just then, a bald middle-aged man strode into the command vehicle. He picked up a headset and stared intently at the image sent by the RQ-7B, speaking loudly: "Are you sure?"

"I’m sure, I don’t believe that person..."

The commander hadn’t finished speaking when a dazzling red light suddenly appeared on the ground. Everyone knew what had happened.

"Sir, no need for further confirmation, he’s the Pyro-thief, and, our arsenal has been blown up again," said the commander.

The bald man inhaled sharply and ordered, "Keep a close watch on the Pyro-thief! Transmit the data to the artillery tracking and direction system."

"Data transmitted, sir. The artillery says the target is moving too fast to lock on."

The bald man said with a deep voice again, "Damn... what kind of monster is this guy! He will stop eventually. Tell the artillery that once the target stops, they must... I’ll tell them myself."

Grabbing the radio, the bald man said savagely, "Listen up, wherever the target stops, the moment he does, I want you to fire within thirty seconds, you must bury the target in fire!"

"Sir! We only have the most basic towed artillery, and our brains aren’t computers, it’s impossible to fire within thirty seconds without a set fixed coordinate zone..."

The bald man coldly interrupted, "I’m not asking you, I’m telling you!"

"Sir, thirty seconds really isn’t possible, you could kill me and it would still be impossible, without test firing or adjusting the shot, even if I commanded all my guns to fire, there isn’t enough certainty..."

"Shut up! Thirty seconds! If he doesn’t die, it should be us who do!"

"Sir, then give me a fixed coordinate zone, a precise one, or you can execute me now. Unfortunately, we’re artillerymen, not God."

The bald man was resolute, but so was his artillery commander. After a moment of contemplation, the bald man said in a grave voice: "The refinery! The oil tanks!"

"Commander! Are you really... asking me to fire upon the tank farm?"

"Do I need to repeat every order I give?"

"Yes, Commander, I understand!"

The bald man took a deep breath, then he whispered fiercely, "Either he dies, or... we all die!"

In the drone control vehicle, an operator suddenly shouted, "Hornet One squadron is under attack, both drones down, Squadron Two... both drones down, Commander, we’re being attacked by Bats!"

"Continue! Continue! Four drones go in, no! Eight drones at the same time!"

The bald man pointed at the screen, his face twisted with rage, "If eight drones aren’t enough, send me all the rest. I want to see his face! I want to see the Pyro-thief’s face! Don’t make me emphasize this again, I want! To see! The Pyro-thief’s face! I want to see his damned face!"

"Yes, Commander!"

Eight drones began to rapidly approach the moving figure, and then, someone finally exclaimed, "Encountering a swarm of Bats, watch me! Watch me!"

Two minutes later, the operator shouted, "Broke through the Bat swarm, I see him!"

The RQ-7B’s thermal imaging could see people, but couldn’t make out faces clearly. However, the Hornet reconnaissance drones could make out a face clearly, even in the pitch black of night, provided the distance was within four hundred meters.

The target paused for a moment, but by then, the bald man had already figured out where the target was heading.

The bald man raised his radio once more, bellowing, "The target is heading to the tank farm, get ready! Be ready to open fire at any moment..."

Just then, someone exclaimed in surprise, "Helicopters! Helicopters are approaching!"

It was a radio operator, and then, the noise of the helicopter’s rotors could be heard even inside the vehicle.

The bald man walked to the vehicle door, and saw a helicopter parked twenty meters away—it was a Black Hawk.

The moment he saw the helicopter, the bald man was stunned; his expression froze, as did his brain, it seemed.

Why, why is there a helicopter here now?

At a time when any flying object would be shot down upon takeoff, even with guarantees of not being attacked by Aliens, and attack aircraft didn’t dare to stray from the designated safety zone, how could there be a helicopter arriving here?

Where the helicopter came from, the bald man could imagine, but how it got here, he could not fathom.

In his state of extreme shock, while the helicopter’s rotors were still spinning, the helicopter door opened, and four people jumped out one after the other, then ran straight toward the drone control vehicle.

The man at the front was dressed in combat gear, followed by a man in a gray suit. Seeing the man in the gray suit, the bald man immediately prepared for the worst.

"Did you order the artillery to strike the oil refinery’s tanks?"

The bald man nodded, then the man in combat gear immediately said, "Absurd, you are now relieved of your duties..."

The bald man glanced at the screen. When he saw the Pyro-thief had indeed stopped in front of a tank, he suddenly raised his radio and roared, "Fire! Fire! Fire!"

There was no response; no one answered from the radio. At that moment, the man in camouflage said coldly, "Didn’t you hear? Murphy, you have been relieved of all duties. The artillery won’t fire on our own tanks!"

The man named Murphy took a deep breath, let go of his hand, and dropped the radio to the ground, then he placed his hands on his head. Weary-faced, he addressed the newcomers, "That’s the Pyro-thief; he has stopped. We had a chance to kill him, any price would have been worth it, and you... you’ve ruined it all."

"No, Murphy, it was you who nearly ruined everything, and we stopped you from making a grave mistake. Now Thompson will take over your duties, and you can leave under the escort of the Guards, to where you should be!"

Murphy’s gaze moved past the man in combat gear to the man wearing a gray suit and gold-rimmed glasses at the back. Taking a deep breath, he pointed at the man in the gray suit, "Larry, now, are you letting a Graycloak command our forces? Tell me, is that it?"

Larry was silent for a moment, then he said sternly, "No time for nonsense now, Guards! Take this damned traitor away!"