NOVEL WEB Chapter 90: Carribean Base (1)
Though cryptic, Ava understood immediately. Her grip on the controls tightened, and the cold flame of vengeance ignited in her eyes. "Thank you, Zack," she whispered, her voice softening for the first time.
Zack ended the call and turned toward the Apex suit, now fully reloaded and armed. As he prepared to leave, Annie appeared from a side lab, flanked by her Tarantula unit. "Brother, I'm coming with you," she said firmly.
"You know what I'm about to do?" Zack asked, his voice as calm as a quiet sea before a storm.
Annie nodded, her small face serious. "You're going to kill someone."
"That's right."
Annie's gaze didn't waver. "Your enemy is my enemy."
Zack studied her for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Get on the plane." The engine roared to life as Zack lifted off. Hovering in midair, he watched as mechanical beasts from across NYC City began to converge. They streamed out of streets and alleys, returning to the Mansion. Each one entered the Avalon's cabin, folding itself neatly to minimize space.
Despite their compact design, there were simply too many. One Avalon couldn't hold them all.
"Sir, the third Avalon is operational," Ego reported.
"It's incomplete," Zack said.
"Only secondary systems like scanners and radar shields are missing," Ego clarified. "The main body is fully functional."
"Perfect. Redirect the overflow units to the third Avalon."
As Zack issued his orders, he engaged his thrusters at full power. The Apex rocketed into the sky, leaving a sharp sonic boom in its wake.
Onboard the Avalon, Ava steadied her trembling hands. Her cold, calculated mind burned with the memory of betrayal. She tightened her grip on the controls, her destination clear. "Let's see how he handles this gift," she murmured, her lips curling into a determined smile.
Meanwhile the atmosphere in the command room of Caribbean base turned tense. Silence fell over the room as all eyes turned to the three leaders. "We underestimated them," Jock said grimly, his tone heavy with frustration. The loss of two F-15 fighter jets, destroyed without even putting up a fight, was a clear sign that their opponent wasn't as simple as they had assumed.
"So what?" Navas scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "Worst-case scenario? They blow up the city." His words dripped with disdain. He couldn't believe a small base, thousands of miles away, would dare to act against them. To him, Zack's threats were nothing but empty bluster.
"Less than 200 people in that base," Navas continued, sneering. "What could they possibly do to us?"
Kshatti, the oldest and most cautious of the three, frowned. "Don't forget the satellite footage," he said, his voice calm but firm. "That small base you're mocking has weapons we've never even dreamed of. What if they bring one of those here and drop it on us?"
Navas rolled his eyes. "First, they need the guts to come this far. And even if they do, do you think our anti-aircraft systems are just for show?" His confidence stemmed from the formidable defense systems at Caribbean base.
"This isn't something we can afford to take lightly," Jock interjected, his voice cutting through the argument. The loss of their fighters had forced him to reconsider their position. "We're dealing with something we don't fully understand. Our satellites can't even give us a clear picture of their aircraft, and Mach 4.8... I can't think of anything that flies that fast."
He paused, his expression growing more serious. "The F-15 might not be cutting-edge, but it's still a fourth-generation fighter. Supersonic. Top speed, Mach 2.5. Yet, it didn't stand a chance." He straightened up and issued a string of commands. "Keep the radar on at all times, no matter the power cost. All pilots, even the ones with minimal flight experience, need to be on standby. Prepare for combat. We can't afford any mistakes."
While Jock was busy organizing their defenses, Zack was already far ahead. Traveling at Mach 4.5 in his Mark3-7 suit, he had crossed multiple provinces and was approaching the border. He had even overtaken the two Avalons carrying mechanical beasts that had set out hours earlier.
"Sir, the LSI satellite is in position. The images are coming in now," Ego's voice chimed in Zack's helmet. A high-altitude view of Caribbean base appeared on his HUD.
The base was more than just a military installation. Around it sprawled a large residential area made up of tents and makeshift shelters, housing at least 30,000 to 50,000 survivors. Encircling this was a massive wall several meters high, made from concrete, steel plates, and scrap vehicles. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter, and machine guns were stationed at regular intervals. Outside the walls, tanks and armored vehicles stood ready.
"No wonder these idiots managed to build a large base," Zack muttered coldly, taking in the scene. "They've been playing with their daddy's leftovers." The military base at the heart of the compound, with its intact runway, had clearly once belonged to army.
Zack's eyes hardened as he surveyed the base one last time before switching off the satellite feed. Accelerating to full speed, he streaked toward Caribbean base in a straight line, without radar shielding, making no effort to hide his approach.
"Leader! Radar just picked up a fast-moving object! Speed estimated at Mach 4.5!" A soldier's urgent voice broke through the command room's tension.
Jock's face turned grim. "He's coming."
Navas, however, looked baffled. "He actually dares to show up?" His earlier bravado faltered slightly, though he tried to mask it with a sneer. "No matter. Once he's here, I'll crush his skull and feed it to the dogs."
"You've committed sins even Navas won't forgive," Kshatti murmured, shaking his head. He knew Navas wasn't joking—this madman was perfectly capable of following through on his gruesome threats.
"Enough talking!" Jock barked. "Clear the runway and get all pilots in the air now! Do not let him get within ten kilometers of the base!"
Caribbean base erupted into activity. Pilots scrambled to their planes, many of them inexperienced but desperate to follow orders. Fighter jets began to taxi down the runway one after another, their engines roaring. However, the chaos led to mistakes. One F-15, piloted by an overzealous rookie, failed to pull up in time and slammed into a lamppost at the end of the runway.
The explosion was deafening. Flames and debris scattered across the airstrip as ground crews hurried to clear the wreckage.
"Leave him!" Jock shouted. "Get the next planes off the ground! Now!"
Despite the frenzy, Zack's pace didn't waver. No one cared whether the pilot had survived or not. Under Jock's orders, the surrounding soldiers quickly began clearing debris off the runway, allowing the remaining fighter planes to take off.
After a failed takeoff that ended in disaster, the rest of the squadron managed to lift off without any further incidents. The dozen or so remaining fighter planes performed much better this time. While a few still wobbled in the air like clumsy birds, they all eventually stabilized. None of them replicated the embarrassing scene from earlier with the inexperienced Ah San pilot.
In total, there were nineteen fighters in the air. Most were cutting-edge models—F-15s and F-22s—but there were also two older Su-30s. Despite their advanced technology, the pilots' skills were wildly inconsistent.