GTC dignitaries at the Table Bay Hotel in Cape Town, South Africa, personally confirmed the existence of terrorists and dirty bombs with their own eyes. Ten seconds later, the terrorists detonated the EMP bomb, and all electronic equipment within one kilometer of the center of the explosion was destroyed indiscriminately.
, the picture returned by the helmet camera of the special service team in the center of the 300-person conference hall was distorted and disappeared.
Yorden Smith, director of the Counter-Terrorism Intelligence Unit, crushed the remote control into pieces.
"You idiots in the communications department! Is there any other way to contact you?" He tore off the knot of his tie and yelled imagelessly, his 7-foot-tall, 250-pound body shaking uncontrollably.
"I'm sorry, sir." The director of the Communications Department, a middle-aged white man with a bald head, immediately replied, "After the EMP explosion, our special service team has returned to the Iron Age. If you specifically request it, we are now developing a flying pigeon messaging system. It takes about three years.
It can be deployed within the year.”
"Are you looking for death?" Smith clenched his big fists.
"Calm down." Annual Executive Chairman Dr. Mark Thompson waved his hand with a headache, "What was the last instruction before the communication was interrupted?"
"No shooting, wait for the next order." Smith replied angrily.
"Where are the reinforcements?"
"It's seventy kilometers away from the 'Ark' and will be reached within fourteen minutes."
"Command the drone to drop combatants and then spirally expand to search for enemies and special service groups. Establish contact with the early personnel. The Communications Department will assist with satellite photos. Yoden, after finding the damn terrorists, let your reinforcements turn on the optical camouflage and follow them from a distance.
, no killing is allowed without my order. Brandon, how likely do you think they really have a dirty bomb?" Thompson quickly arranged and turned to ask Bartholomew, who was not far away.
"Me?" The tired scientist pointed to the tip of his nose, "I am here for the 'world'. There is nothing in my briefing except data about the virtual world."
"You are a professor in the Department of Physics at Caltech, Brandon." Thompson was a little dissatisfied.
"Look here." Bartholomew spread his hands, "A group of scientists, or guys who were scientists, gathered together, not for the fascinating string theory or the cyclic universe model - I know that the era of scientific discovery is long over.
, I also know that you miss those beautiful days as much as I do - but discuss ways to kill people efficiently, safely, and without leaving any consequences. What kind of behavior is this? Is this what scientists should do? This
Is this what citizens of the earth with sound personality and respect for the right to life should do?”
"Brandon." Thompson frowned.
"Yes Mark, I understand. Science includes politics. As long as human society exists, politics exists. Today, when science is declining, science itself will become politics.
But mankind has not lost hope yet. Look, what a beautiful Garden of Eden we have built with our own hands. In that world, everything is evolving by itself in the way we imagined, according to mysterious laws, just like the scientific community has been arguing for centuries.
Old topic: What is the first driving force of the universe? In the 'world', we are the only ones that exist and are not noticed by primitive life. The first driving force, Mark, we are their God!
What else can better point our way forward than observing their life trajectories? This is the responsibility of scientists and their best efforts to find a way out for the future of human civilization. Compared with power struggles and inhumane killings, Mark, you are
Shouldn't GTC focus more on the 'world'?" Bartholomew stood up excitedly, his gray beard trembling.
"They are terrorists! Brandon." Thompson said with gloomy eyes, pointing to the playback image on the three-dimensional projector. Several people in orange chemical protective suits gathered around the silver-white metal cans and slowly walked out of the "Ark"
, there are bright radiation hazard signs on the metal cans.
"If we don't respond and nip the danger in its infancy, more and more anti-human beings will appear and use all means to fight against Genesis and GTC. Don't you see, Brandon, they are holding Pandora's demon high?"
box. If these crazy people open the lid of the box and spread the plague, the entire Far East will be affected by radioactive fallout. The radiation pushed high into the sky by the explosion cloud will even cover half of the earth. Can you imagine what a humanitarian disaster this would be.
Shall, my old friend, explain it using your human rights perspective?"
"If the GTC had maintained its original function of academic research, all of this would have been impossible!" Bartholomew waved his hands fiercely, "In the era of the first GTC, extreme opposition forces did not exist at all. It was you who promoted the national quantum strategy and forced the country to
When the regime makes a choice between supporting the Genesis terminal or not, the GTC will become a state within a state and revolutionaries will rise up. Don’t you understand?”
"The world is different, old friend. When the Neanderthals ruled Europe, they kept the human race evolving due to the continuous expansion of borders. But when Europe and West Asia became their territory, wars began. Ancient humans destroyed themselves
, Brandon, the basic characteristic of human beings is competition. When your wonderful string theory and cyclic universe model come to an end, struggle is inevitable. The difference is that we have the most powerful weapons to prevent this kind of internal fighting from evolving into
The end of mankind." Thompson replied in a cold voice.
"Your speculation about the reason for the demise of the Neanderthals has no archaeological basis." Bartholomew pressed Wu Tianlan's arm next to him and tried to pull him to sit down.
"We have known each other for many years, and we understand that we cannot convince each other, so please sit down, old friend, and we can continue the discussion at the bar in the evening." Thompson turned away with interest. Bartholomew's face turned red and his arms were in the air.
After waving a few times, he sighed and sat down slumped.
The old voice of the Director of the Ninth Division appeared: "I just spoke to nuclear physics experts. They think it is unlikely that terrorists will break open the sarcophagus and dig into the core of the reactor to take out the radioactive waste and make a dirty bomb in such a short period of time, especially if they are among them."
after the professionals were shot dead."
"How unlikely is unlikely?" Thompson asked.
"The probability of a dirty bomb actually existing: 15%." The Director of the Ninth Division replied.
"Yordon, what do you think?" Thompson asked.
Smith pondered for a moment, "The possibility of 15% is too high. Dirty bombs are not children's toys. If there is a possibility of 5%, you should not try it."
"I agree." Thompson nodded, "Has the drone arrived?"
"Passing."
As four "Venom" tactical drones passed by Chernobyl at high speed, eight oval-shaped crew and equipment compartments were released at low altitude and fell freely. When approaching the ground, the reverse thrust rockets were turned on. The reaction force was accurately calculated.
The elliptical capsule landed slowly and gently without splashing a trace of dust.
The hatch opened, and twelve S-class tactical team members jumped out, quickly took out their equipment, used satellite antennas to establish quantum pathways, turned on optical camouflage, and were on alert.
Helmet cameras, aerial images and satellite images were automatically combined to quickly build a three-dimensional model of the war zone in the center of a 300-person conference room in Cape Town. The GTC executives present clearly saw several jeeps left by the terrorists paralyzed and covered with greenery on the roadside.
Smoke, this is the center of the EMP explosion, where the signal was interrupted just now.
"Expand the search. I will know the whereabouts of the terrorists and the special service team within five minutes." Smith issued the order.
The S tactical team was divided into four groups, three of which conducted searches around the Chernobyl factory area, and one group entered the interior of the "Ark".
"Please identify yourself, otherwise we will shoot." Through the south door, the tactical team found a wounded person lying in the airlock, and the acting captain shouted through the loudspeaker.
no answer.
Infrared imaging showed that the body's temperature was 3 degrees below average, possibly a cooling body.
The background radiation was 830 microsieverts, which did not exceed the three-defense range of the combat uniform. Entering the "Ark" meant giving up the connection with Genesis and turning off the optical camouflage. Smith thought for a few seconds and ordered: "Two people go in, one person in
Keep in touch outside."
Two combat team members carried submachine guns and took turns to cover the entry into the "Ark."
Thompson and Smith stared at the image returned by the helmet camera of the remaining team members. Two people entered the airlock room, and one of them squatted down to check for signs of life. At this time, a gunshot rang out. The gunfire of M1911 echoed in the conference room in Cape Town.
"Safe, repeat, safe." The bullet hit the bulletproof plate on the chest of the elite combat team member, without causing any damage. The double-faced female spy Vasya fainted after shooting the long-awaited bullet. Two team members tied her hands and feet.
, carry out the "Ark".
"My people." came the aging voice.
"Why did you shoot?" Smith stared at the weird old man.
"Woman." The Director of the Ninth Division said briefly.