Chapter two hundred and forty seventh gradually expanding war
"We have entered the airspace of Gaul. Bad news, friends, the route to Paris has been blocked. It has now been declared a no-fly zone." The pilot wearing a gray jacket and carrying a bottle of wine walked out of the cab.
, announced to the militants in the cabin.
Mikkelsen, who has run the Joint Investigation Office for decades, will naturally not be hindered by the so-called political ban, but he does not want to expose himself to everyone just yet.
So the plane carrying Anthony and his group was branded as Greyhound Airlines, an airline whose main business is low-cost cargo.
And what stands in front of them now is another capital giant, United Airlines.
Their statement is directly and mandatoryly sent to all aircraft flying over the European Union, and is regarded as the only warning. All aircraft trying to approach the no-fly zone without first-choice permission will be fatally struck without hesitation.
"Drop us from the nearest place and we can drive into Paris." Anthony glanced at the time. They had wasted nearly six hours on the plane.
"Wait a moment, your employer is a man with great powers. I have never seen my boss be so respectful to anyone. He must have a way." The pilot sat down next to Anthony and took something out of his inner pocket.
A cigarette, carefully lit: "I'm not here to give you bad news, I just want to have a cigarette."
"Are you going to get involved in the Champ de Mars incident?" The pilot happily enjoyed the flavor of tobacco: "The fighting was really fierce, and I heard there were nuclear bombs. To be honest, if I were you, I wouldn't want to go there.
, too many people flew there today, and they are all the likes of you who are not easy to mess with."
"Do you have any news?" Anthony asked calmly. He could not trust Mikkelsen because he had never been able to figure out what the common interests of Mikkelsen and Tanguy were.
"It's not a secret. As long as you have a good relationship with the ground crew, even if it's a secret flight mission of a big company, you can still get the news in a bar." The pilot blew out a smoke ring with some emotion: "It's not the same as it was back then. People don't
Believe.”
"Have you been a soldier before?" Anthony heard something familiar in the other person's tone.
"In 1936, I was still serving at the Anchorage base. I was retired in 1938. When I left, the entire base and the aircraft inside were sold to a local real estate company at a low price.
." The pilot shrugged: "God knows what the real estate company will do with buying fighter jets."
"I guess those planes were eventually sold to military technology." Anthony also felt a little emotional. They did have the same experience.
The veterans have not faded, but the object of their loyalty has changed beyond recognition. Anthony has experienced two corporate wars, but he cannot understand the cause and end of the war, nor can he understand why the federal government collapsed overnight.
Since when has it become impossible to find even a decent country in this damn world?
"Migratory Bird 2, is sending the air defense identification code of the new coordinate position." Anthony heard an energetic voice coming from the pilot's walkie-talkie: "Pay attention to your attitude, that is an air force base, there are many soldiers, and they are not happy.
Someone is going to Paris with weapons."
"You heard me, be careful later." The pilot laughed, put out the cigarette butt, and said sarcastically: "Gaul Air Force, haha."
North of Paris, Cray Air Base.
John Fleming and his old friends got off the plane in a dusty state. The Gallic soldiers in civilian clothes looked at them through the barbed wire fence, as if they were sizing up some precious animals.
This look made Fleming a little unhappy. No one had dared to look at him like this for many years, but Fleming soon knew why.
On another runway, a group of about forty people, also heavily armed, was carrying supplies from the plane.
Nearly half of them were wearing some kind of black cloak-like clothing with strange red words printed on it, which made them look uncomfortable.
A Gallic officer riding a motorcycle waved to Fleming's group and guided them to another way.
At the same time, the group of unknown militants also discovered them. The leader answered the phone and glanced here from time to time.
"Fleming, I don't feel good." A thick man with a prominent beer belly sniffed hard: "This smell is even worse than the last time I stepped on a landmine in Angola."
"I know, Vladimir, I don't need your dog nose to know that there is a problem." Following Fleming's words, an imperceptible reflection appeared dozens of meters away, which was his invisible servant.
Vladimir is also a superhuman, although his ability awakened very early, at least much earlier than the concept of superhumanity.
He could smell odors of different intensities before he was unlucky. Because it was too subtle and it was difficult to tell whether it was a coincidence, Vladimir did not realize that this was his ability for a long time.
After all, he was often hungover and didn't like to take a shower. He could smell his own stink 360 days out of the year.
Of course, now Vladimir has developed the habit of taking a bath, so when he smells a bad smell, he is definitely in trouble.
The officer leading the way moved faster and faster, his face became more and more nervous, and he was always observing the signals from the guards on the guard tower.
John Fleming followed him and said calmly: "I am friends with General Alesi. Due to some accidents, I had to land here. Do you have anything I need to know that you want to tell me?"
"I know you are a friend of the general, and my superiors also know it, so we want to take you out of here as soon as possible." The officer whispered: "Did you see those crazy people over there? They are from the Adventist sect. Don't ask me.
I don’t know what sect that is, I only know that their destination is the same as yours, but it’s exactly the opposite of yours.”
"And they also brought a lot of heavy weapons, those bastards! What they brought can blow up the entire neighborhood!" The officer said angrily: "That's Paris!"
"I understand, my friend, I understand your feelings. People nowadays no longer respect history. They have no respect for cultural inheritance." John Fleming said with a smile: "When I was young,
I have visited Paris several times and it is a great city and it should not have happened like this."
The officer did not answer, but his expression changed because he saw the sentry waving vigorously.
This is a signal that the other party already knows the identity of Fleming and his party. There is an intelligence network of naturalized people and pioneers behind the Advent sect, which occupies a huge advantage in information warfare.
John Fleming had already seen the man in black robe standing near the weapons pile who had hung up the phone and was giving orders to his men in a high-pitched voice.
The surrounding Gallic soldiers who were on guard had obviously received orders not to interfere with the actions of these people. At this time, they saw this group of fanatical believers loading their bullets as if inspired by the Lord, and began to evacuate without saying a word.
Fleming shook his head. He felt a little emotional that Gaul didn't seem much stronger than the Federation, and the entire country's framework almost no longer existed.
Following Fleming's actions, a grenade box was suddenly pried open by an invisible force, and a grenade was unsecured and returned to the box.
A redeemer saw this strange scene and immediately shouted a warning to others, but it was too late. A huge explosion accompanied by fire and smoke completely drowned everything.
The transport plane behind them with the United Airlines logo on it was also swept by the sea of flames, and an even bigger explosion broke out.
In the firelight, Fleming's invisible servant flashed past and used a special thin blade to cut the throat of a believer who was far away and escaped death.
"The working machine is going quite smoothly." Fleming smiled at his old guys: "I hope the next work will go as well."
"If you always do all the work by yourself, I won't come next time." A middle-aged man who was lame on one leg but still couldn't hide his fierceness poked a few holes in the ground with his crutch to express his dissatisfaction.
: "I flew for so long not to see your performance. My back hurts so much!"
"Don't get excited, Claude. The Edward boy has caused a lot of trouble this time." Fleming coughed, took out his handkerchief and covered his mouth. The smoke from the distance had filled the air.
"What? That playboy has a child?" Another old guy who looked more aged asked in surprise, as if he couldn't believe what he heard: "Isn't his villain useless?"
"Adopted son! Todd! Didn't I tell you on the plane? Have you forgotten again?" A relatively younger and gentle man beside him, who looked to be only forty years old, said loudly in his ear.
"Don't be so loud, Blanc. I've turned on my prosthetic ears. I can hear it. I can even hear someone fart eight hundred meters away!" Todd replied loudly: "I just wanted to mention Edward's story again.
Egg!"
A bunch of old guys laughed, and so did Fleming.
They are a group of frustrated people, a group of old guys who have been abandoned by the times and are not needed. They come from all over the world and come from various organizations.
Fleming used his long-sleeved ability to connect a large network among frustrated people of different classes and identities.
Perhaps at first Fleming just refused to be lonely and wanted to protect himself, but now as the network continues to expand, he has more ambitions.
In the light of the fire, these old guys seemed much younger...
"What's going on down there?" Tony looked at the chaotic airport below, where it looked like a plane had crashed.
"I heard that you and the people supporting Losas landed at the same airport, and a conflict broke out." The pilot shared the information he collected with the group of smokers.
"Why didn't they land directly in Paris?" Martin relied on his height and length to squeeze out a mercenary and put his face against the window to look down.
"I heard that there is a superhuman on your side who guarded the largest airport in Paris and shot down two planes trying to land with a spear." The pilot whistled. He probably felt that he had never seen this scene before. Wait.
When I go to the bar, I can get two drinks by bragging.
Anthony and Tony looked at each other and felt that the situation on Tangji's side seemed to be getting more and more complicated. As for Martin, he was thinking about how people could use spears to shoot down planes...
Of course there were more than just Anthony, Martin and Tony on the plane, there were a total of forty fully armed mercenaries here.
Twelve of them were hired by Anthony from the Afterlife Bar, and the rest were all good people Mikkelson managed to find.
If time were not tight, Anthony could have recruited more people. After all, Tang Ji had shown himself to be a good employer during his last operation in Night City.
The mercenaries in Night City have reached a consensus that Law Enforcer Tang is not only rich and quick to pay bills, but also takes on difficult tasks directly by himself. It is impossible to find a better employer than him.
At this time, the pilot saw another medium-sized cargo plane suddenly appearing in the distance, and his expression suddenly changed: "It can't be such a coincidence, right?"
Before he could finish speaking, an alarm sounded on the plane. It was obvious that the plane had been locked. The pilot rushed back to the cab and shouted to the people in the cabin: "If you don't want to die, just stop."
Good seat belt! We are going to do something exciting next!”
Even a rough guy like Martin immediately retracted his seat, grabbed the seat belt and tried to fasten it on his body, but maybe he used too much force, or maybe he was too tall, so he tore the seat belt off.
I could only use my hands to hold the armrests of the seat tightly and fix myself on the chair.
The next second, the cargo plane, which should not have made such a move, slowly began to turn over, crossing a huge arc, and completed a roller maneuver with great difficulty, accompanied by Martin's deafening roar.
If you are close enough, you can still see the big man falling in the air with his face turning pale, vomiting and trying to resist the centrifugal force with pull-ups. The only person who is paler than him is the person next door who is watching the vomit. The mercenaries who came over...
...
...
"To be honest, I am very confused about the fact that we are still alive now." Marcin walked in the middle of the carriage with a calm expression, as if he had completely accepted his fate.
"This is because God protects us." The saint's mood was calmer than that of Marcin. If you light sandalwood in the carriage, some people would believe you that they were practicing meditation here.
No wonder they have changed so much. When the New Order team was dropped here, the superhuman soldier who picked them up recently was only three meters away from the car.
Marcin felt that he and the other party even looked at each other for a few seconds, but no one thought to check the car.
"Stop guessing. This car is blocked. Others will subconsciously ignore this place." Wang Zhengdao's weak voice came, and he coughed several times in pain, which made Marcin's heart tremble a few times: "I The people are here."