The turret of the tank that flew into the sky slammed to the ground, shaking the radar car for a moment, and then the hot fragments burst out sporadically, and the fire burned unrelentingly. Brigadier General Tarason www.biquge.info turned his head to look at the violently burning wreckage of the main battle tank, remembering that he had just squatted in its tank compartment - if he hadn't switched to a radar car, he would have died a glorious death by this moment.

The brigadier general was furious and roared at the divisions and ordered: "Aim at the Illinois stronghold, fire a salvo!" The assault vehicle is going at full speed for two kilometers! He finally admitted that it was a stronghold, not a fishing village.

I have never seen a fishing village equipped with depleted uranium armor-piercing shells!

This order sounded simultaneously in the radio channels of the armored vehicles, and was quickly carried out: the main battle tank tracks spun around, while jolting wildly and rushing towards the target, while raising the barrel high, slowly rotating the turret, and invariably aimed at the Illinois stronghold, aiming at the Illinois stronghold in the distance, aiming for only three seconds, the main battle tank at the same time raised its head and opened fire, the fiery red shells swept through the night sky in a smooth bright red curve, and fell towards the stronghold.

When the shells landed, the ground shook, and a deafening roar rolled in the distance. A few distorted beams of black smoke rose up, and the steel stronghold, which had been bombarded by a salvo, lit up with a faint fire.

The armored infantry vehicles had already galloped to a distance of two kilometers from the target, braking sideways one after another, sweeping up the noisy dust, and stopping fiercely. Then the belly of the car fell quickly, and the heavily armed Venezuelan marines jumped out one after another like dumplings, armed to the teeth, carrying RPG rocket launchers, approaching the stronghold from all directions.

As the night darkens, the flickering flames lit by artillery fire are especially beautiful at night. Brigadier General Tarasson was so elated that he took out a cigar, cut it and lit it, and roared with interest: "Keep firing!" Four kilometers close to the face salvo, and in ten minutes, I will see a burning ruin! Keep me ......."

Before he could finish speaking, Brigadier General Tarason's radio was suddenly activated by pulses, and the Federation pilot shouted hoarsely in the channel: "Warning! Enemy underground cluster rockets land on the surface! Warning, enemy swarm rockets leave bunkers and land on the surface! Concealment is recommended! It is advisable to hide in place! ”

"What?" Brigadier General Tarathon did not understand what "underground cluster rockets" meant, he was thinking.

Then he saw a dazzling fiery chrysanthemum blooming under the night sky. The scene cut him off from his thoughts and turned him into a statue with his mouth open and drooling.

Under the pitch-black sky, the outline of the "stronghold" was originally vague. But in the next moment, the whistling sound of the cupola cannon was endless, as if the scorching sun had fallen to the ground, and the surrounding area of the stronghold was illuminated by red rays, and the steel nails and joints on the steel barriers, and the stone crabs on the sand, all of which were visible at a glance.

Because thousands of rushing rockets erupted from the sky above the stronghold. They dragged out a dense and dazzling red trail, like a fountain overflowing in all directions - as if the stronghold was just a flower pot, blooming a thousand chrysanthemums, this dense line of fire blazing chrysanthemums illuminated the earth, reflected the red sky, and in the overlapping and piercing whistling, quickly bloomed and filled the night.

The spectacle lasted only three seconds. Immediately, the rockets drew a rounded parabola and flew straight in parallel; So the graceful stretch of filigree petals ferociously extended, and suddenly turned into thousands of whistling rockets, bursting through the air and rushing towards armored vehicles and tanks in all directions; The Thousand Silk Fire Chrysanthemum, which had just been just the right amount of grace, turned into a hideous 10,000-clawed octopus in the blink of an eye, shooting countless deadly tentacles at the Marines.

"Oh my God." The pilot's exclamation was heard over the radio.

Brigadier General Tarathon understood what "underground cluster rockets" meant. There must be a large-tonnage, high-capacity shore-based cluster rocket launcher in the stronghold, which is usually stored in bunkers and hidden in the snow. Just now, the federal attack planes detected the ground cracking of the stronghold, the bunkers were open, and the shore-based rocket launcher group had risen and landed on the surface, and only then did they issue a warning.

It was the simultaneous launch of 600 self-guided rockets that produced the beauty of a thousand fiery chrysanthemums filling the night sky - no, in the eyes of a terrified Tarasson, it was a meteorite rain that destroyed the dinosaurs, and this was the end of the world.

In the face of fully automatic guided covered heavy firepower, his 23 main battle tanks are like Barbie dolls on display in the girl's room, with only the function of selling cuteness.

A salvo of fire?

The Spear of God teaches the Commodore the proper use of the "salvo" with an oil painting of death.

Brigadier General Tarasson fell into a state of brain death for the second time, staring blankly at the sight of the blazing red silk covering the sky and the sun, and covering himself with his head and face. Among them, there was a fiery red track, which was facing Tarason's line of sight, and with full love, the radar car staring at him collided head-on.

Tarathon was wandering and thinking, "The Spear of God, a bunch of cunning bastards, he actually told me that he was just processing a little bit of a controlled prescription drug?" He called rockets a prescription drug in class A? ”

He was full of grief and indignation at being deceived: "Do they have to suck gunpowder into their nostrils to get high?" ”

The next second, he was pushed out of the radar car by his loyal adjutant.

Tarathon fell to the ground from the radar car traveling at 60 kilometers per hour, crackling and rolling like a drifting pebble. The sharp pain of fractures and dislocations came one after another, and he almost broke his neck. However, when he raised his head with a bloody face, he was immediately overturned by the rushing waves of fire, and his uniform caught fire, and he instinctively screamed and rolled on the ground. The sound of the fire crackling and burning made his heart like a knife, and he finally extinguished the flames, and when he looked up on his deathbed, he saw that the radar car had blown up to the point that only a lone frame remained, overturned fifty meters away, burning into flames, the four wheels were still idling, and the antennas and doors were scattered within a radius of ten meters, which was terrible.

At the same time, the rockets landed one after another, except for the two armored personnel carriers that made an emergency turn to evade success, the rest of the main battle tanks and armored vehicles that were moving in a straight line at a uniform speed were all shot, the heavy armor was instantly pierced as if by magic, the tanks advancing at full speed turned into a wildly running fireball, and the lighter tonnage armored personnel carriers flew up to the sky like acrobatic racing cars, spinning in mid-air, the fuel tank spilled in mid-air, and immediately burst into a tumbling fireball and crashed to the ground; The sturdy armor shell crumpled like plastic against the ground, and the flames had arms trying to crawl out of the broken window, scratching the dirt a few times before it came to a standstill.

The most terrifying thing was that after the 43 armored vehicles were hit and burned, there were more than 560 whizzing missiles, which relentlessly bombarded the infantry who could not escape. The barrage of rockets that had not yet subsided was smashed on the land within a radius of four kilometers, like a pot of red-hot iron beads poured on the ant nest, and the fleeing marines were like ants, suffering heavy casualties in the flames.

A large barrage of rockets clearly locked on the coordinates of the infantry team. The trio carrying RPG rockets and ammunition boxes bore the brunt, and the formation combat squad of five people was also locked one after another, and the rockets fell on the path of the infantry as if they had long eyes.

Every time a rocket touched the ground, it exploded into the sky, and the stumps and fine pieces of dirt wrapped in military uniforms poured into the crater like rain. Sheltered in place, the Marines took to the skies with their shelters, blasted rubble sharper than bullets, piercing the soldiers who could not escape them.

The only remaining staff officer on the radio cried out for help: "Request for bombing support!" Bombing support requested! Say a good cover! (To be continued.) )