69novels Chapter 218: The Navy Joins the Battle
Chapter 218: The Navy Joins the Battle
The infected would simply walk around the destroyed roads.
That realization settled heavily inside the command center.
The infrastructure strikes were working.
Bridges had collapsed.
Highways had disappeared.
Interchanges had become mountains of concrete.
The hordes had slowed.
But they had not stopped.
The recon drones proved it.
The infected simply flowed around the destruction like water around rocks.
Slower.
Less organized.
But still moving.
Still coming.
Still heading toward Basa Air Base.
Adrian stared at the tactical map.
Red markers continued appearing.
Thousands.
Then tens of thousands.
Then more.
The latest estimates were becoming absurd.
One analyst finally looked up.
"Sir..."
Adrian didn’t take his eyes off the screen.
"What is it?"
The officer swallowed.
"The northern concentrations now exceed two hundred thousand."
Silence.
Another analyst spoke.
"The southern front is approaching one hundred and fifty thousand."
Then another.
"Additional concentrations continue moving from Nueva Ecija."
The room remained quiet.
Because everyone understood.
The first wave alone was becoming catastrophic.
And another army was still coming.
Ryan slowly rubbed his face.
"I swear these zombies are reproducing."
Nobody laughed.
Because at this point, it almost felt true.
Then Adrian looked toward the operations table.
Toward the map.
Toward the coastline.
And an idea appeared.
His eyes narrowed.
"We’re forgetting something."
Several officers looked toward him.
"What?"
Adrian pointed west.
Toward the sea.
Toward Subic Bay.
Toward the fleet.
"We have an entire naval task force sitting off our coast."
The room became still.
Then several expressions changed.
The operations chief blinked.
"Oh."
Ryan’s eyes widened.
"Oh."
Another officer looked almost offended.
"We actually forgot we had destroyers."
Adrian grabbed the radio.
"Get me the fleet."
---
Several hundred kilometers away.
The sea remained calm.
The carrier group sat in defensive formation near the western coastline.
Destroyers.
Support vessels.
Amphibious ships.
Everything remained on alert.
The CIC aboard the destroyer remained brightly illuminated.
Radar operators monitored airspace.
Sonar technicians listened beneath the waves.
Weapons crews remained ready.
Then the communications officer looked up.
"Incoming priority transmission from Basa."
The officer handed the headset to the ship’s captain.
The captain listened.
Then his expression changed.
"Understood."
He looked toward the tactical officer.
"Get me the task force commander."
---
Minutes later.
The destroyer’s CIC became busy.
Very busy.
The tactical display updated.
Drone imagery from Pampanga appeared.
Then more imagery.
Then more.
Every screen filled with moving red icons.
Thousands.
The naval officers stared.
One commander finally spoke.
"What the hell?"
Another officer zoomed out.
The red icons kept spreading.
The room became silent.
Because from this perspective—
It looked like an invasion.
The task force commander slowly looked toward the display.
Then toward his weapons officer.
"How many Tomahawks do we have available?"
The officer immediately answered.
"Eighty-six."
The commander nodded.
"Prepare a strike package."
The room came alive.
Tomahawk Land Attack Missiles.
Cruise missiles.
Subsonic.
Long-range.
Terrain-following.
Precision-guided.
Normally used to destroy command centers.
Air defense sites.
Military infrastructure.
Tonight—
They would hunt zombies.
---
Inside the Vertical Launch Control Room, sailors rushed toward their stations.
Target coordinates streamed directly from Basa.
Road intersections.
Major concentrations.
Bridges.
Bottlenecks.
Massive clusters of infected trapped by destroyed infrastructure.
Perfect targets.
The weapons officer looked over the strike package.
Then whistled softly.
"We’re launching all of these?"
The answer came immediately.
"Every missile that has a target."
Nobody argued.
Because after seeing the drone footage—
Nobody wanted to.
---
Above Pampanga.
The AC-130 continued orbiting.
The battlefield still burned.
Artillery continued firing.
Aircraft still attacked.
Then suddenly.
The radio crackled.
"All units, naval strike package inbound."
Several pilots blinked.
One Apache crew exchanged looks.
"Navy?"
The answer came.
"Affirmative."
The pilot frowned.
"The navy can reach this far?"
Another voice answered.
"Oh, you’re about to find out."
---
Several hundred kilometers away.
A destroyer’s Vertical Launch System opened.
Massive armored hatches rotated upward.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then dozens.
The launch cells stood exposed to the night sky.
The launch officer looked toward his captain.
"Missiles ready."
The captain nodded.
"Execute."
The launch officer took a breath.
Then pressed the command.
Nothing happened.
For half a second.
Then—
WHOOSH.
A Tomahawk erupted from its launch cell.
Flames engulfed the deck.
The missile climbed vertically.
Then another launched.
Then another.
Then another.
Soon the destroyer seemed to be breathing fire.
Missiles screamed into the night.
Columns of flame illuminated the sea.
The other destroyers joined.
WHOOSH.
WHOOSH.
WHOOSH.
Missile after missile launched.
The sky filled with fire.
Dozens of cruise missiles climbed upward.
Then rolled west.
Then accelerated toward Luzon.
Sailors stepped onto weather decks to watch.
Because honestly—
It was beautiful.
Terrifying.
But beautiful.
One young sailor stared upward.
"I’ve never seen this many launches."
A petty officer beside him nodded.
"Neither have I."
The missiles disappeared into the darkness.
All carrying hundreds of kilograms of high explosives.
All heading toward Pampanga.
---
Far above Central Luzon.
The first Tomahawks arrived.
The missiles flew low.
Very low.
Only a few hundred feet above the ground.
Their terrain-following radar guided them around hills.
Over rivers.
Through valleys.
They looked almost alive.
A Predator drone spotted them first.
The operator immediately smiled.
"Contact."
The command center switched feeds.
And there they were.
Cruise missiles.
Dozens of them.
Racing toward the battlefield.
Ryan stared.
"...That is ridiculously cool."
Nobody disagreed.
The first missiles reached their targets.
An enormous concentration north of Tarlac.
Nearly forty thousand infected.
Trapped behind a collapsed bridge.
The Tomahawk descended.
Then—
BOOOOOOM.
The explosion lit the province.
A massive fireball erupted.
The center of the concentration simply vanished.
Then another missile hit.
And another.
And another.
The explosions marched through the trapped horde.
Roads disappeared.
Buildings collapsed.
Vehicles vaporized.
The infected ceased existing.
The drone feed shook from the shockwaves.
Then came another target.
An interchange.
Thirty thousand infected.
Three Tomahawks struck almost simultaneously.
The resulting explosion resembled a volcanic eruption.
A mushroom of dirt and fire climbed into the sky.
The overpass disappeared.
The infected disappeared.
Everything disappeared.
The operators inside the command center stared.
One analyst quietly spoke.
"Jesus."
No one replied.
Because there was nothing to add.
---
Near San Fernando.
Staff Sergeant Javier Cruz suddenly saw the northern horizon explode.
Then another explosion.
Then another.
Then another.
The entire province seemed to erupt.
Even the infected paused briefly.
The explosions were enormous.
Far larger than artillery.
Far larger than airstrikes.
The shockwaves could be felt through the ground.
One machine gunner stared.
"What the hell was that?"
Javier listened to his radio.
Then smiled.
"The navy."
Silence.
The gunner blinked.
"The navy did that?"
Another explosion erupted in the distance.
A huge fireball climbed into the sky.
Javier grinned.
"Apparently."
The soldiers laughed.
Actually laughed.
Because after hours of nonstop fighting—
Seeing the navy join in somehow felt reassuring.
The entire military was here.
Everyone.
Army.
Air Force.
Navy.
Every branch.
Every weapon.
Every aircraft.
Every ship.
All fighting together.
The radio suddenly crackled.
"Additional naval strikes inbound."
The soldiers looked north.
Then smiled.
Because somewhere beyond the darkness, destroyers continued firing.
And somewhere across the sea, missile cells continued opening.
Because tonight, Even the ocean itself had joined the battle.