In order to store the source of fire, humans piled three million cubic meters of concrete on it. In order to contain Megatron, a power station was built here to keep him cool.
In fact, there is nothing better than a hydropower station to provide an environment that can stably provide electrical energy output.
Not to mention that District 7 has an army in reserve here.
Although this army is well-trained and has armored vehicles, helicopters, and all imaginable heavy weapons, it is still not enough in front of the Space-Time Administration.
The armored suits of Task Force 141 are not afraid of the steel-core armor-piercing bullets standard in Area 7. Even rifle grenades and anti-materiel weapons are only powerful enough to scratch the paint of the armored suits.
The remaining people in Area 7 were confined to the core area, which was an observation room that could isolate the energy of the Fire Source.
The thick glass is obviously bulletproof, and the isolation door on the side has been completely locked. If you stand inside, you can see that the hydraulic rod has been damaged. If you want to get in, you have to try to cut the entire isolation door.
The team that Ghost brought this time was originally the Metal 01 team in "Call of Duty 8". Commander "Sandman" Sandman was responsible for handling the personnel in District 7.
Sandman, wearing an armored suit, stood in front of the transparent glass and issued a stern warning to the people inside.
"Now, immediately, open the door, come out and surrender!"
The people inside hid behind filing cabinets and desks, trying to hide their panic in this way.
After hearing this, everyone looked at each other. They could understand the human language, but the armored suit did not resemble Earth's technology.
The only dozen or so people left in District 7 are here, and they can be said to be the last survivors.
Now, the opportunity to choose is placed in front of them.
The panicked people looked at the person in charge of District 7. Now he and everyone were hiding behind the file cabinet, but in everyone's sight, he stood up.
Looking a little embarrassed, he straightened his wrinkled suit, then stood up straight and looked at the Iron Man outside.
Forced to calm down, the man put one hand behind his back and said to Sandman outside the glass: "Surrender? You must first tell us what you are!"
"Surrender! Otherwise, if I go in, it won't be so easy!"
Sandmann was unwilling to explain that the Space-Time Administration did not need to explain anything before fully controlling the seventh area and completing personnel screening.
The man unzipped his suit and unbuttoned the top two buttons of the shirt underneath. You could vaguely see a large S-shaped coat of arms painted on the T-shirt under the shirt.
That's the symbol of Superman. This symbol appears on the person in charge of District 7. It's a bit ridiculous, but it's also normal.
"Uh, can I ask about the terms of surrender? Do you know the Geneva Prisoner of War Convention? I request..."
The man was obviously stalling for time, which made Sandman outside not willing to waste time here. He took a few steps forward and stood in front of the glass.
"Wow! Wait wait wait..."
The man quickly stretched out his hand to signal Sandmann to calm down and said, "I have to ask them what they mean..."
After saying that, the man turned to look at his colleague, who was a man with two delicate mustaches like Howard.
The colleague nodded to him, and the man smiled and turned around, turned his right hand upwards, and raised his middle finger to Sandmann, making a generally recognized gesture of friendly communication.
"You know what this means? F**K YOU! Alien bastard!"
After saying that, the man turned around and jumped to the desk behind him. There was an old-fashioned black dial phone on the desk, and the phone was now connected.
The man's hand behind his back just now was to signal his colleagues to connect to the backup phone line.
Picking up the phone, the man said sternly: "I am Reggie Simmons, the person in charge of District 7! Get me the Department of Defense!"
"This is the Krusty Krab, not the Department of Defense!"
This line is a dedicated line, so there will be no mistakes.
Simmons was not suspicious, but looked at his colleague with some confusion and asked: "What type of secret language is the Krusty Krab?"
The colleague shrugged helplessly, saying that he didn’t know either.
"Let me say it again, I am Reggie Simmons, the person in charge of District 7, and my execution code is PC-12138. I don't care if you are the Krusty Krab or something else. Get me the Department of Defense immediately. I want a strategic bombing!
"
"This is not the Krusty Krab, this is Patrick's Star!"
Simmons was so angry that he was fuming. When he wanted to argue with the person opposite, the colleague standing next to him stood up and patted him on the shoulder.
Simmons, who was furious, said without looking back: "Tom, if you have nothing to do, go find out what the key to the Krusty Krab is..."
However, the colleague next to him just patted Simmons on the shoulder again. When Simmons turned around, he saw Rorschach holding a phone outside the glass.
"What do you want? SpongeBob is not here today, and Squidward is the chef..."
Simmons put down the phone heavily, looked at Tom on the side, and then at the colleagues around him, and said: "It's a pleasure to work with you all. I can't ask you to do anything more now, but we may be the last batch."
Those who resist alien invasion!"
Tom on the side clicked and loaded the shotgun, then handed the weapon to Simmons. Others also took out weapons, even metal benches, ready to start a desperate counterattack.
Sandman stretched out his fist against the glass, and with one punch, the impact area turned white. This was the crack caused by the polycarbonate fiber layer mixed in the glass absorbing the impact.
With each punch, a dull sound could be heard in the observation room, and each sound hit the hearts of everyone inside.
Simmons raised the gun at the hammering point. The bulletproof glass would not shatter as a whole. Instead, it would slowly turn into powder at the hammering point and then be penetrated. This would only form a small hole through which the muzzle of the gun could pass.
Stretch out.
Until now, Simmons has been thinking about resisting. He even walked up to the bulletproof glass and waited to shoot out.
From the inside, you can clearly see that the bulletproof glass has bulged, and the laminated layer in the middle is as difficult as Spider-Man to maintain the whole glass.
However, the 'spider thread' still broke one by one, and the iron fist broke through.
Simmons did not fire, but waited, waiting for the moment when the iron fist retracted. His goal was never to cause damage to the steel suit that was immune to this firearm.
As long as his fist is retracted, Simmons will shoot Rorschach on the side.
No matter how you look at it, Rorschach looks like an earthling, and the traitor is the most hateful existence in the war.
Taking away a traitor before death will not only have an impact on those steel creations, but also eliminate a hidden danger for the earth.
"Come on! Come in if you feel like it!"
Simmons did not look at Rorschach who was standing aside. He was afraid that his sight would reveal his target. He kept yelling at Iron Man, focusing on Iron Man, and just looked at Rorschach standing aside with his peripheral vision.
However, the fist did not retract for a long time. Instead, like Simmons just now, he slowly turned his hand over, revealing an upright middle finger.
From the gap between the middle fingers, you can see that you are still holding a small gas tank in your hand, and now the gas tank is making a sound like a leak.
Simmons looked back at his colleagues in despair, and then his vision blurred.
After an unknown amount of time, Simmons became aware of his body again. He could feel that he was sitting on a stool with his hands tied behind his back.
"Open your eyes when you wake up. You have inhaled the most anesthetic gas, and you should wake up by now. But don't worry, the amount is not enough to cause any harm or sequelae."
No longer pretending, Simmons opened his eyes and looked around. He saw the observation room he was familiar with. The intruders tied them up on the spot.
However, Simmons could not tell how much time had passed, because the bulletproof glass that was supposed to have a hole in front of them had been replaced. Even the airlock door on the side had been repaired, and only the observation room was a mess.
Rorschach sat on the table and asked casually: "Tell me, I want to know the structure and composition of District 7, as well as your research over the years."
Simmons' heart suddenly sank. Area 7 is a non-existent organization. Even the Secretary of Defense will not know about Area 7. They keep the existence of aliens secret from the outside world and continue to search for aliens on the earth.
Eliminate all threats.
Now that the person in front of me has named him, it means that this organization has been exposed.
Simmons put on a paralyzed face, and then breathed steadily to stabilize his heartbeat. This is the most basic way to deal with the interrogation and prevent the interrogator from reading micro-expressions or conducting polygraph tests.
No one answered. Rorschach pointed casually and said: "Let's start with you, your name, position..."
Rorschach was pointing at Tom, the colleague who had just handed Simmons the weapon.
Tom shook his body and said in a funny way: "I am the boss. I run a restaurant called Haibawang! I have a wife named Helen, but she is a computer. I love my wife very much..."
Just what Rorschach used to fool them, now they return it as it is.
Rorschach said: "Cooperate and I will not torture you. Everyone knows that no one can withstand the torture of torture. Even those who have received torture training can only hide the information for up to thirty-six hours."
…”
Tom raised his head, glanced at Rorschach and said, "Then we'll see you in thirty-six hours?"
For the staff of District 7, delaying even one second is valuable. Perhaps the crisis on earth requires just this second. Delaying it for thirty-six hours will allow humanity to breathe for another thirty-six hours.
hours.
"Give him some Veritaserum..."
Tom was grabbed by the hair and forced to look up, then his mouth was roughly opened, and a drop of Veritaserum fell directly into his throat.
"I can taste everything. This can't even compare to Haiba paste. My wife Helen can't even cook..."
"Name, position?"
"My name is Tom Banachek, and I'm the administrator of District Seven."
Without any hesitation, Tom blurted out the answer.
Then Tom's expression changed completely. He realized what he had said and twisted his body wildly, trying to break free.
"Who is the main person in charge of District 7?"
"Rakey Simmons, that's the guy next to me. Sorry, Simmons, I can't control myself!"
"What about the composition of District 7? What about the force structure?"
"The Seventh District relies on the Hoover Dam. The power system has three departments. There are two teams of engineers responsible for the dam's power system. There are 123 administrative staff, which I am responsible for managing. Field projects and overall planning are in charge of Simmons. There is an all-weather team
A tactical team, three armed helicopters are on standby, and there is also a guard team patrolling the river banks and reservoirs..."
The more Tom talked, the more uncomfortable he became, and he even cried, but he couldn't help himself and answered the question clearly.
Simmons on the side looked at Tom in despair. He knew that his colleague had worked with him for many years. This was a comrade-in-arms who could rely on his back in battle. However, the enemy did not do any violence. He just dropped a drop of veritaserum.
Turn a well-trained agent into a good brother with a deep heart.
Simmons' mouth bulged and he twisted his body, as if he was gritting his teeth to fight against the Veritaserum that was about to enter his mouth.
Following Rorschach's signal, someone walked up to Simmons and, just like before, reached out and grabbed Simmons' hair, preparing to raise his head and then drink the truth serum.
"puff……"
Simmons spat out a mouthful of blood at Rorschach, but the blood stopped a few feet in front of Rorschach. The blood mist gradually condensed into a ball, and then fell vertically to the ground.
Along with the blood mist, a piece of tongue fell, and Simmons bit off his own tongue.
"Ha ha!"
Simmons smiled maniacally, with blood constantly leaking from the corners of his mouth, staring at Rorschach like a man-eating demon.
The tongue is the most flexible and toughest muscle in the human body, rich in blood vessels and nerves. When biting the tongue causes pain, the human body will instinctively protect itself by releasing the masseter muscle and retracting the tongue.
It takes great courage and perseverance to break your tongue in your mouth.
As an agent, Simmons knew that biting his tongue would not kill himself, but it would render the Veritaserum ineffective.
You have to use your tongue to speak, right? I don’t have a tongue now, so your Veritaserum is useless!
Following Simmons' actions, people kept hearing low screams of pain, and some people also imitated Simmons and began to resist.
Rorschach looked at Simmons and asked, "Is it worth it?"
"Heh...he...cough..."
Simmons raised his head and looked down at Rorschach proudly.
He straightened his body and coughed continuously from his throat, which was caused by bleeding from the sublingual artery and backflowing into his throat.
Simmons wants to drown himself in his own blood!
Simmons fulfilled his ideal. Since resistance has no meaning at all, all he can do is to restrain his body reaction and bite his tongue, and then let himself fall into the most uncomfortable and desperate way of death for human beings.
This is the only way he can think of, the only way to prevent the information about aliens and District 7 from being leaked in his mind!
The faces of the surrounding 141st Task Force members covered by armor uniforms all had the same expression, which was their admiration for Simmons.
Whether it's 141 or the little raccoon, they are all waiting for Rorschach.
Simmons' eyes gradually relaxed, and the expression he showed was not one of torture and fear of drowning, but one of joy and perseverance.
Rorschach waved his hand and turned around.
Simmons began to be treated. Under the treatment system of the Space and Time Administration, he would not have any limb mutilation. The worst he could do was to drink two more bottles of healing potion.
In a voice that could not be heard by others, Luo Xia murmured: "Another...another...death..."
