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Section 16, Chapter Nine: No Peace
"Sergeant! They've been checked! They're all dead!"
"Okay, Bill, go and call out all the able-bodied people in the house and carry these corpses inside."
“Oh, and one more thing!” the sergeant added, “Tell Tommy quietly that a pretty female soldier died out there. If he wants to see her, he has to come out and get to work.”
"Haha! Got it!"
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A short while later, when the eerily quiet subway began to stir with rustling sounds, that shrill voice, full of exaggerated flair, started again.
"Oh my god! I actually found a hot girl!" Tommy ignored his leg injury and looked at all the corpses he saw, and then he saw the carnivorous creature waiting for him in the open space.
“Karl! Didn’t you say Tommy only picked up an old lady?” Jonathan leaned against the wall, grinning widely.
“That’s strange.” A sinister tone rose in Karl’s voice. “This course of history is just too odd…”
"I call this turning misfortune into blessing, you know! Ha!" Tommy cheered without turning his head, picked up the girl's body, and examined her closely.
"Wow! Not bad! It's a pity he's dead. Damn, boss, you were too ruthless..."
Although he had some complaints, Tommy was still overjoyed by the sound of the voice.
"Huh?" A question escaped his lips again. "Judging by her appearance, this girl really doesn't seem Russian..."
"How did you know?" a soldier asked from the side.
"I've seen the boss's picture!" Tommy exclaimed, beaming. "Oh, the time the Germans surrendered, I saw a picture of the boss with a few Russian girls! And I even heard from the guy who took the picture that the boss lost a game with them afterward and was thrown onto a truck by the girls, hahaha!"
"Tommy!" The sergeant's awkward roar arrived as expected, "You want to become a mop, huh!"
Just as the uproar was escalating like a boiling kettle, a corpse being carried past Jonathan emitted a cacophony of shouts.
"Put him down!" Jonathan ordered, while silencing the surrounding soldiers.
"Calling B Team! Respond if you hear me!" A voice with a robotic tone came from the corpse.
After fiddling around for a bit, I found something that looked like a walkie-talkie microphone. I picked it up and looked at it, and found a button on the side.
"Hello?" He pressed the button hard, relying on his intuition, and tentatively called out.
"Where the hell have you all been! Why are you only replying now!" A furious female voice, accompanied by the earth-shattering sound of gunfire, hurt his ears.
“Uh, sorry…” Jonathan replied insincerely—of course, the woman’s voice was in English, and so was his. “We’ve just cleared out the enemies underground. We had no casualties; the signal was probably weak…”
"Alright, enough talk! Get back to the ground and assemble! Squadron Taven and Squadron Hills need our help!"
"Um, where do we meet? How do we get there?"
"Take the stairs leading to the underground area and turn left. Proceed along the street to the first intersection! It's on the main road at that intersection! I'll give you your tasks when we get there! Hurry up! If you don't want to get shot!"
"Yes, sir, we're on our way." With that, Jonathan slammed the microphone to the ground and then stomped on it, smashing it to pieces.
"Alright! Everyone, keep up the good time!"
"Sir!" Before anyone could reply, a soldier squatting next to Tommy spoke up first. "Come and take a look at this!"
“Ottilie Moran, 3rd Vanguard Expeditionary Force, Joanna Squadron, C Team…” The sergeant held a badge the size of an ID card handed to him by a soldier, staring blankly at the English on it.
"What the hell is this designation? A special task force?"
"Hey sir, look at that emblem in the background, does it look like it belongs to any unit?"
"This blue background? Usually, only national flags are used as ID card backgrounds, but who would be so bored as to use something so flashy as a national flag? It's more like it's used to draw on clothes or tanks..."
"I remember reading books about the Middle Ages and I think I saw that great lords of that time often used this kind of..."
"Don't give me that nonsense!" He slapped the identification tag on the soldier's head. "Check if this girl has any documents or anything on her; maybe she can help..."
Jonathan stood up, turned around, and prepared to leave.
“Hey, Tommy…” He turned to look at the shifty-eyed cripple beside him. “Ahem… Remember to dress this girl properly. You stripped her like that, were you trying to take advantage of her while she was still hot?”
"No, boss, how did you know it was me?"
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After a while, the sound of light footsteps rang out again, and the soldiers slowly moved forward along the narrow, broken passage, only this time, they moved a little faster.
At the forefront, the sergeant held a flashlight around his neck, shining it on the identification tags on the black-clad corpses that he and the other soldiers had just collected. The reason the sergeant could read them so carefully was that, apart from English, the tags only contained Arabic numerals.
"Farol Blanco, C Squad, Joanna Company, 3rd Vanguard Expeditionary Force..."
"Adulaha Segal, A Squad, Wilson Company, 5th Vanguard Expeditionary Force..."
"Railley Antovali, A Squad, Wilson Company, 5th Vanguard Expeditionary Force..."
“Gregory Lekikhovsky, C Squadron, Joanna Company, 3rd Vanguard Expeditionary Force…”
Identity cards were passed from hand to hand by Jonathan, and a string of familiar yet unfamiliar names swirled in his mind. Some of those names sounded German, while others sounded Russian. Some he had seen similar names in his hometown, while others he could barely spell.
Who are they? Where do they come from? What do they want?
Putting aside the various names, photos with different expressions, and incomprehensible numbers, those few words that resembled military unit numbers lingered in his mind like a revolving lantern, floating over and over again.
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A string of words rolled over every nerve in my brain like a train, seemingly never finding a station to stop at...
Just then, a muffled, rolling thunderous sound came from the subway dome overhead, descending from afar. Wisps of fine dust slid down and landed beside the soldiers' already crouching legs.
This wasn't the first time they'd heard such a sound coming from above, but the throbbing vibrations always made them wary—it was the rocks and houses telling them that someone was throwing shells at their heads.
"Hmm, it shouldn't be any large-caliber artillery..." Jonathan thought to himself as he spurred everyone to stand up again and continue moving forward.
"Hey sir!" a soft voice called from behind Jonathan. "Look! That staircase!"
Looking up, a short staircase, dimly lit, leaned against the wall not far away. A tiny dot lay on the lowest step, its reflection illuminating the surrounding stones, steps, and walls, standing out starkly in the dark tunnel.
"Stay here," the sergeant suddenly ordered, stopping everyone before heading off alone.
He first groped around at the bottom of the steps in the light for a while, then picked up a stone, took a few steps back in the direction he came from, lay down, aimed the stone at the light, and threw it.
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With a snap, and then...
Then nothing happened. The stone and the gadget had a close collision, flipped over, and revealed the blue logo painted on the chassis that looked familiar to Jonathan.
The sergeant breathed a sigh of relief. A soldier, who seemed to be more quick-witted, tiptoed toward the light and picked it up.
"What is this, sir?"
“Leave the light box in the tent,” Jonathan said, dusting off his hands and turning to shout to the large group behind him. “Alright, guys! The subway’s here.”
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Yes, it looks like these men in black did indeed come down from this subway exit.
The familiar black street came into view again, but this time, not far to the left, there was a noisy gunfight party.
The deafening roar of various guns and cannons, like a raging dragon, echoed through the air above the streets, sweeping away the ruins and assaulting the soldiers who had just emerged from underground.
"Everyone, cross the street and protect the wounded."
A long, olive-green snake began to slither through another maze of ruins right next to the street, its white forked tongue flicking as it cautiously made its way toward the other side of the gunfight party.
“So, Sergeant…” Karl began uneasily. “Why are we heading towards the area where the fighting is going?”
"Hey, who do you think would get into a fight with those black dogs?" the sergeant explained. "If it's one of our own, then getting involved with them would definitely be a good thing."
"If we really get in touch with our own people, given the current situation, they're bound to say something, you know what it is?"
"what?"
“‘Ah, our savior has arrived! Here, I have a plan. You guys do this first, then we'll do that, and then we can all laugh and have fun,’ right?”
"No matter what, let's make a big fuss first, otherwise we can't save them, and they won't be able to collect our bodies, right?"
Karl didn't say much, he just took a deep breath towards the sky with a blank expression.
"Sir!" A not-too-loud shout came from the back of the column, and hurried footsteps gradually approached the sergeant.
"What's wrong? Don't panic."
"Behind...behind!" A man in a green helmet stopped in front of him, panting. "Enemy! Enemy armored vehicles! They're coming down the street!"
Without thinking much, the sergeant kicked open a broken door on one of the walls and peeked inside.
"Everyone, come in! Quickly!"
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A black infantry fighting vehicle drove through the broken streets and stopped in front of a small building.
Amidst the distant roar of gunfire, the hatch at the rear of the armored vehicle slowly opened, revealing another group of familiar yet unfamiliar Britannian infantrymen in black uniforms. Each of them activated their night vision goggles, some crouching, others slowly pacing, peering into the darkness around them.
Only one person came down and did nothing, glancing here and then there.
"Captain Joanna, we have arrived at the rendezvous point. Please respond. Over."
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"Uh, I'm sorry, sir, we haven't found any trace of your C team yet."
"..."
“Okay, ma’am, we’ll get going right away.” He put down his arm, turned around and walked to the front of the infantry fighting vehicle, punched it hard a few times, and the hatch on the front of the vehicle opened, revealing an equally dark head.
"You two, stay here and report to me when the other person arrives."
"understand!"
"Let's go, brothers, let's get the job done."
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Before the dust had even settled, the two black hatches on the front of the armored vehicle were already being opened by two soldiers inside.