Chapter 51 - First Line of Defense, Part 1
A few days later, the Prometheus Initiative officially began, and several resource shipments along with two battalions were mobilized to protect the location.
Military equipment was also being installed in the mountains—anti-aircraft systems and automatic machine guns were being placed in strategic locations to keep the infected at bay.
Radars were also being set up.
But what truly mattered was the first line of defense, where the military fought twenty-four hours a day against the Stalker hordes.
Alan now understood what was happening and why they were losing ground so quickly. It turned out that each infected horde easily exceeded two hundred thousand targets, sometimes even reaching the millions.
They could only hold out thanks to the air force, which was being deployed from the still-active Naval Force. Thanks to them, the bases in Texas could remain operational without consuming too many supplies.
But if something were to happen to them, then they would be doomed.
…
Military Base, refugee zone at the first line of defense.
"Zz The northernmost base was lost. It was overrun by more than two million infected. Artillery struck, but for some reason the infection reached the heart of the base, and nothing could be done."
"How many soldiers managed to escape?"
"Zz… Only five hundred out of the eight hundred stationed there. We estimate we lost around twenty thousand survivors."
"Relocate the artillery. We need to fall back to the established line." The voice came through a radio in Alan's hands as he communicated with his people.
In the room, Alan looked at Brion in silence and then slowly spoke into the radio in his hands: "Establish a supply route from those zones. Avoid areas with infected, and if you encounter survivors, screen them first."
"Zz… Understood, sir. We'll be on the move at first light."
Alan ended the external communication and focused on developing better plans to hold the line until the critical machinery could be transported to the new base.
Brion, who had listened to everything, remained silent. Only now did he truly believe, and he realized his role in the plan was so vital that this might be the last free action they could take in the cities.
"Do you really think we'll completely lose control of the country?" Brion asked after a while.
"It's the truth. That's why we need as much medical equipment and machinery as possible. All those factories must be moved to the new base currently under construction. Can you imagine the chaos the world will be in three years from now?" Alan pondered this over and over whenever he thought about his plans.
Alan wanted to make sure Brion was aligned with his strategies. He walked over to a map and pointed out key locations. "The cities will become chaotic, and these are the points where we'll launch strategic bombings."
"The worst is DEBRA. We've retaken several military bases in Texas because they're doing everything wrong."
"It's hard to believe everything could destabilize just from a few poor decisions…" Brion knew it was possible, but reaching that point seemed senseless.
"You're right. The military will establish bases where they'll try to endure and rebuild. However, our plan is safer, which is why I want you to take charge of the artillery." Alan knew some cities would survive for many years—they could do it—but just in case, they needed a place where survival was guaranteed.
"Then if that's all, I'll move out when you give the signal." Brion stood up, not wanting to leave his post for long.
Alan nodded and said, "Your family has already been moved to the new base. You can contact them when communication with that base is established."
"Thanks, boss."
By the time Brion left the temporary communications base, Alan, now exhausted, sat on the couch wanting nothing but rest. But at that moment, he heard a noise on the other side of the room, prompting him to draw his weapon.
"I heard you. Come out now or I'll shoot." Alan raised his pistol, ready to fire. He knew that if he couldn't maintain control, he would have to kill whoever had been eavesdropping.
"So now you want to shoot me?" Riya, the beautiful woman Alan had been avoiding, walked toward him holding a plate of food.
Alan lowered his weapon, looked her straight in the eyes, and said, "I owe you a lot of explanations…"
Riya looked slightly uncomfortable and said, "That doesn't matter. What matters is what you're going to do. Don't you want to talk about that?"
"Don't lie. You heard the whole conversation." Alan stood up, took the plate from Riya, and walked toward the lounge area to rest.
"How long do you plan to keep pretending you're indestructible? You're doing what others expect of you, not what you can actually bear." Riya was aware of Alan's depression, which is why she never blamed him for not speaking to her for months.
In their last conversation, Alan had made it clear that she could look for something better, implying it would take him time to recover.
"General Shelton is dying, Riya. He trusts no one more than me to keep us from allying with FEDRA." Alan knew he was being used mainly because he would never let innocent people die without at least trying to save them.
Of course, Riya understood that Alan was the perfect candidate to lead this mission and go to extreme lengths to protect humanity at a strategic point.
"I'm sorry I didn't explain more, but I was in a really bad place after that mission where so many innocent people died." Alan still hadn't come to terms with his past mistakes—after all, one of the soldiers who died had been his girlfriend's brother.
Riya had never blamed Alan for any of it. As an elite soldier, she knew the risk of dying in her boyfriend's squad was extremely high.
All the soldiers had that mindset and were more than prepared to die under the worst circumstances.
Of course, non-military family members didn't understand that mentality, and the first person they blamed was Alan.
In this mission too, Alan would be blamed and cursed, but certain sacrifices were more than necessary to save humanity.
If the survivors wanted to live, they had to do it by their own means.
Besides that, she knew she had to adapt faster than anyone else if she wanted to survive in this world. Alan had said it best: only the people who are truly worth saving must be rescued as soon as possible.
Certainly, the world wasn't getting any better—or at least, that's what she had already realized before Alan even arrived at the base. And now, things were only getting worse.
"Thanks for the food. When you leave, take that bag of military rations for the boys." Alan placed a duffel bag on the table, then lay down.
Riya, lost in her thoughts, asked, "Is that all?"
"If we make it out of here alive, I'm sure I'll apologize under better circumstances. What do you think?" Alan knew he had to improve how he spoke if he didn't want to get hit by that woman.
"You don't need to. You know that kind of thing doesn't work between us."