1novels Chapter 55 Man! Mamba out!
Chapter 55 Man! Mamba out!
"Hahahaha! Die!"
William Simpson's maniacal laughter was absorbed by the noise-canceling headphones built into the helmet, leaving only a muffled echo that he could hear himself.
The M230 chain gun's firing arc was locked onto a half-collapsed brick warehouse on the helmet-mounted display.
In the thermal imaging, four orange outlines are seen moving rapidly at the bottom of the warehouse.
His hand gripped the launch button on the control stick tightly.
The Apache's fuselage shuddered slightly, and the M230 chain gun under its belly began to rotate.
Bang, bang, bang, bang—
The muffled thuds of the 30mm cannons echoed continuously, firing ten rounds per second.
The resulting fire whips lashed against the corrugated iron roof of the abandoned factory.
The rusted steel plate was torn apart like paper, revealing the haphazardly laid steel beams underneath.
Concrete debris and dust billowed up, forming a blurry orange-red patch on the thermal imager screen.
"Hahaha!"
White Annason pulled the control stick, causing the helicopter to tilt and turn, and the cannon's impact point moved accordingly, cutting along the longitudinal direction of the factory building.
A brick wall collapsed entirely after being hit repeatedly, revealing a spacious interior.
Thermal imaging showed several human-shaped heat sources moving deep inside the factory.
They tried to find cover, but the machine gun's firing arc covered most of the area.
The shells hit the concrete ground and exploded, the fragments and shockwaves overturning the two nearest heat sources.
The orange-red outline disappeared instantly.
"High-altitude attack, low-altitude attack, attack the idiots! Oh wow, rocket launchers too? You've been watching too many movies."
White glanced at the monitoring radar.
The screen showed a rocket flying from the three o'clock position at a low speed, with a clear trajectory.
He gently pushed the control stick, and the helicopter swung its tail to the right while decreasing altitude.
The rocket flew three meters above the port side, trailing a grayish-white plume of smoke, and crashed into the distant warehouse, exploding into a fireball.
"You dare fight back? Turn the plane around!"
William shouted.
"Shoot them!"
White twisted the nose of the Apache, and the machine guns opened fire again.
The shells were precisely placed into the rocket launch position—a small machine repair shop.
The rusty red iron roller shutter door was smashed to pieces, and the maintenance trench, elevator, and tool cabinet inside disintegrated in the metal storm.
The workshop's load-bearing column broke, and half of the roof collapsed.
"It's a pity we don't have tanks, otherwise we'd let you taste the effects of anti-tank rounds."
William released the fire button and checked the weapon status panel.
There were still four Hellfire missiles on the line, but the ground targets were all infantry and light armored vehicles, and they were all friendly forces.
He switched to reconnaissance mode and zoomed in on the street below.
The three captured M1A2 tanks should be in the town, but they haven't appeared since the start of the war.
Multiple scans by drones failed to detect it.
"Where are those tanks hidden—?"
clang!clang!clang!
A metallic clanging sound came from the tail of the aircraft, short and crisp, like someone striking the tail boom with a sledgehammer.
William looked down at the dial.
All system indicator lights are normal, engine speed is stable, and hydraulic pressure readings are in the green range.
"Stray bullets?"
White said.
Before the words were finished, the control feedback suddenly disappeared.
The joystick became sluggish and unresponsive, and the tail rudder pedal did not respond at all.
The helicopter began to spin uncontrollably to the right, its nose pointing downwards.
"What's going on!"
White yanked the collective pitch lever, attempting to raise the nose of the aircraft.
invalid.
The feedback signal from the tail fin rudder disappeared from the control panel.
The warning light came on, and the yellow "tail wing malfunction" message began to flash.
The fuselage spun faster, and the horizon spun wildly outside the porthole.
The altimeter numbers dropped rapidly: 800 feet, 700, 600—
"Shit! William, fasten the straps! We're going to fall!"
White yelled, his hands gripping the control stick tightly.
William felt the inertia throw him up, while the straps binding him tightly to the seat followed by a spinning, dizzying sensation that made his cerebellum tremble.
White was trying to slow down the main rotor speed as much as possible so that the two of them wouldn't turn into cat junk like the cats in the movie "The Adventurers".
However, without the tail rotor, the entire aircraft was heading towards the centrifuge.
"Oh no!!!"
The spinning iron cage crashed directly onto the Hummer on the ground.
With a loud bang, luckily, it was just metal deformation.
The titanium alloy casing is quite valuable.
"It's okay, it's okay, hahaha, it was almost..."
William, feeling as if his internal organs were about to twist together, shouted weakly.
And in the next moment,
boom!boom!
William felt a chill on his forehead, and his vision instantly went half-darkened.
Then darkness completely engulfed consciousness.
Several gunshots rang out in the distance, and a hole appeared in the bulletproof glass.
The two were exposed.
On the bright side, they don't have to worry about insurance anymore, and no one will come to rescue them from here.
In other words, you've received the compensation!
command center.
Gordon Jose stared at the three helicopter icons that had turned red on the tactical screen.
The final transmitted flight data showed that
All three Apache helicopters lost tail control suddenly while hovering at low altitude, and no missile lock-on signal or anti-aircraft radar illumination was detected before they crashed.
"Ground firepower."
The technician pulled up close-up images of the wreckage taken by the drone.
"The tail rotor drive shaft was severed by a weapon, possibly a 12.7 mm or larger caliber anti-materiel rifle."
"But the point of impact is located at the root of the rotating propeller hub, and the area is no larger than the palm of a hand."
"What is this?"
Gordon couldn't help but cover his forehead.
As someone capable of becoming a commander, he is not a complete incompetent fool.
However, I also felt that my understanding was being challenged.
"This is a human being."
Gordon closed the wreckage screen and brought up another report.
"Beneath the town of Hegang lies a complete abandoned transport tunnel system, mainly built between the 1950s and 1970s, connecting the power plant, steel plant, dock, and main warehouse area."
"The total length is estimated to be over fifteen miles... What the hell?"
He felt like the guy who had Freud kneeled on the ground.
I can't breathe~
"How come you didn't know this before?"
He felt like his world was about to collapse.
The adjutant pulled out a yellowed scanned copy of the file.
"Sir, these are the municipal blueprints."
Gordon looked at the diagram on the tablet. The tunnels spread underground like a spider web, with as many as twenty-seven exits throughout the town.
And we don't even know what version this is from!
In other words, what started as a small-town security crusade turned into an endless tunnel warfare, a nightmare for all Americas.
As for finding the designer from that time?
They were either wrapped in oil paper and buried inside, or they were killed along with the industrial town after it was transformed into Rust Town.
"Phew~"
"Order the ground troops,"
"Pause the advance towards the town center. Consolidate existing positions and establish a defensive line. Have engineers scan the underground and mark any suspicious entrances."
He suppressed his emotions, his voice returning to a flat tone.
"The heavy artillery group is preparing for a second round of saturation fire, expanding the coordinate range to the possible area of the underground structure."
He looked at the small town marked in red on the satellite map, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the table.
"That attack plan—"
"put off."
After asking his question, the adjutant ran off to relay the orders, leaving Gordon sitting at the table looking worried.
His eyebrows are all furrowed.