I have to say that the bombing of Villadimo here really helped us a lot. Originally, I was planning how we could infiltrate the Allied airfields without being detected by the Allied forces; Now it seems that this concern is no longer necessary. In the face of the sudden bombardment overhead, the Allied airfield was already in flames. Some people were killed on the road, and some were mortally wounded, crying for their fathers and mothers. Allied vehicles were rampaging through the barracks, and the radio was filled with chaotic howls of ghosts and wolves.

"It seems easier than you think," Vanka said to me as I got back into the Grizzly Tank, "is it time to ......?"

That's a reminder to me. But I looked up, thought about it, and dismissed it.

"It's not time for a surprise attack," I said in a deep voice, "if you don't destroy the Pentagon's dedicated airfield...... Victory doesn't really come! ”

The tank starts its engine and fires at the more important facilities in the vicinity. The muzzles of the bunkers at the gate were pointed outside, but the cannonballs came from behind them, and these bunkers were destroyed by us without knowing it.

The tank moved on. It is really ridiculous that due to the air raids, the situation has become chaotic, and only one tank can rush left and right in the barracks of seventy or eighty people, as if entering a no-man's land.

"I really admire them." Watching an Allied GI scurrying around with a bazooka in hand being crushed by a tank under the tracks, Vanka commented.

"I know. You're trying to say that the Americans are too poor in combat," I sighed and helped Vanka pick up what he had to say, "that's not the case." It's just that the US troops with high combat effectiveness are all overseas, and only garbage is left at home. ”

I still remember how our troops were airborne: for security reasons, the aerospace plane did not fly directly to Washington, but made a large circle over the Atlantic, and then flew at an ultra-low altitude along the east coast of Canada into the United States. And it is ridiculous that the American air defense system is so self-righteous that it mistakes our planes as Canadians. Instead, it took too much time to make a detour, so that by the time we arrived over Washington, Dorgan and Caveley had plenty of time to prepare.

I finally withdrew my thoughts from the panicked Americans outside. Because Vanka suddenly asked me expectantly, "What are we going to do now?" ”

After the commander died, the Allied forces on the airfield were leaderless, the wounded were lying waiting to die, the uninjured were scurrying around, and some were even crazy and shooting around. Ironically, this last group of people has become our greatest threat.

"Leave them alone," I said, "and get me straight to the airport." That's the key. ”

Relying on these seventy people, if it is to assassinate US President Dugan, it can be said that it is more than enough; But we have changed our plans, that is, to attack the Pentagon.

But there is no doubt that this plan is more difficult. There are definitely more than seventy generals in the Pentagon, and if we don't have enough troops, most of the Allied officers will still escape.

I turned my head and glanced into the distance, but I was obscured by the tall buildings. I turned to the east again, and at this moment the bombardment had just begun, and the local population had not yet been alarmed. Few cars were disturbed by the extensive overpasses and highways, and the Potomac River and Theodore Roosevelt Island were bathed in the peace of the morning light. On the other side of the river, there were no anomalies in downtown Washington.

The only anomaly may be Arlington National Cemetery in the south. I don't know what kind of madness Villadimo went to and scattered a large number of bombs on the bones. Countless white cross tombstones standing among the green grass and pines were blown to pieces, and some were even completely reduced to a pile of broken bricks.

When Vanka's tank took me under the tower of the airstrip, I took a special look at the time in the lower left corner of the computer screen: August 17, 1970, 8:37 a.m.

Distance from the birth of the "miracle...... Not far off.

I picked up my computer and climbed out of the tank. The latter, accompanied by a roar that was only the level of a small truck, kicked up a cloud of dust and rode away.

The staff at the airport tower are already scattered at the moment. As "incompetent technicians", they packed up their things and fled as soon as the air raid occurred. Only a group of dispensable guys are still on duty. I didn't have much contact with these technicians, but they were so annoying that I chose to fire into the sky anyway, scaring them out of their heads.

"Don't run away - die!" The latter sentence is addressed to a gendarme who drew a gun. When the other guys who escaped were honestly squatting in front of me, this security guard dared to secretly pull out his gun! I aimed as little as I could, and then fired. Although he killed this hateful recalcitrant man, he accidentally "injured the innocent", and the two next to him were unfortunately killed.

"Ah, I'm so sorry," I added lightly, "and I've never been very good at marksmanship." But don't worry, as long as everyone cooperates, I will try not to shoot as much as possible. ”

Oh, my God...... I couldn't believe it. Half an hour earlier, I had objected to the massacre of prisoners of war; Now it's so skillful and so handy!

……

Since the Allies had no living force to resist, I accidentally captured Allied technicians at an airfield tower. So when we left the Allied base, we were not discovered.

As we left the military base (as for the technicians, although my massacre proposal had been rejected, Villadimo would soon parachute in more men to take over the job of guarding the prisoners) and entered the Sifax family cemetery, the computer screen showed that it was already nine o'clock in the morning.

The Baptist Church of St. John here, and nearby, has been occupied by a paratrooper battalion in Villadimore. Mosvenck was so pleased with the situation that he had a friendly meeting with their chief.

"Generalissimo Viladimore has brought me great respect for the warriors," Major Char Aztecel held out a hand to Mosvenk, "and there is also one thing that Generalissimo Viladimore is curious about, which is how Prime Minister Lomanov let only this man storm the Pentagon. ”

Major Char was supposed to be of Chinese origin, but not of Soviet nationality. He is small in stature, but he is ...... in skill It should belong to a more flexible category of people.

The only thing that was not very satisfying was his brown eyes. A pair of eyes that should be big but often squint, like a fox ready to hunt.

"We landed in the wrong place," Mosvenk replied to Major Yafka embarrassedly, a little embarrassed, "we were supposed to parachute in the White House, but the plane was hit, and we had no choice but to change our battle plan." ”

"That's true. The whole of Washington, and the Vila Dimona are in a mess. How many more people do you have? Major Char changed the subject.

"I accidentally scattered it before, but now I have it again. There are one hundred and ten left. "Comrade Major, shall we wait for follow-up reinforcements first, or shall we attack the White House?" ”

However, Major Char looked indifferent, maybe he didn't even know which direction the White House was.

"Forget it, it's too far from the White House, and I have to change my original battle plan. Comrade Char, would you like to act with me? ”

"No problem, Comrade Mosvenk," Char replied excitedly. When faced with a task and not knowing what to do, it is easy to accept the command of someone from Moscow.

"Command can't be talked about, let's lead this battle together." Mosvenk said with a smile.

Two minutes later, Mosvenck summoned all the officers, both formal and temporary, and assigned the task.

"There are only four hundred of us," Mosvenck said firmly, "but as long as everyone strictly follows my plan, they can achieve the same effect, although they cannot complete the original task." ”

"How?" Questions were raised with suspicion. In the eyes of most middle and lower-ranking officers, "flexibility" does not exist.

Mosvenk unfolded the map, pointed to a dot on the map, and announced: "Pentagon! ”

I heard some whispers from the crowd.

"It's not just empty words. We already have four tanks, and if we get some more cars, we can make a detour from the west along this road," Mosvenk said, gesturing the route on the map, "and when the detour is complete, we can attack all five gates at once!" ”

The only objection comes from me. I held up a hand, smiled and said, "There's an addition." ”

Mosvenk glanced around unexpectedly, got up from the ground, and said coldly: "Say." ”

"Perhaps, the actual situation does not need to be so troublesome." I smiled eerily.