Cannon Fire Arc-Chapter 703 - 41 Infiltration

Chapter 703: Chapter 41 Infiltration

Marshal Gollon’s orders had not long been issued when outside became a complete mess.

“Damn, just how many troops have they dropped in?” Marshal mused as he paced back and forth inside the armored command vehicle.

The Deputy Officer looked very worried, “Marshal, the enemy is clearly after capturing or killing you. Why don’t you get in a tank and let all the armored vehicles remaining here escort you to the new headquarters?

“The enemy’s paratroopers only have two legs; they can’t keep up with armored vehicles.”

Marshal Gollon glanced at the Deputy Officer, “No, I will not flee from battle! Continue to call nearby troops over; we must eliminate all of the enemy paratroopers!”

“But if the enemy succeeds, then you’ll be the second marshal to fall to Rocossov’s hands,” the Deputy Officer said with deep concern.

Marshal Gollon: “If things come to that, I will accept it fully. It’s my fault for not having moved to the new headquarters earlier. This is the result of my carelessness.”

Deputy Officer: “But… letting Rocossov succeed is bad for the entire Empire.”

Marshal Gollon didn’t answer but stood by the window of the armored command vehicle, watching the night sky continuously lit up by tracer bullets.

————

Major General Aromeyev had established his command post on a nearby cylindrical barn.

There used to be a Prosen observatory on top of the barn, but now the Prosen sentinels that were stationed here had been eliminated, and the Artillery Mirror had been left behind.

Using the Prosen Artillery Mirror, Aromeyev observed the target area: “The layout of the target area is actually just as General Rocossov drew it, unbelievable—he only flew over the enemy’s head at night!”

As soon as these words were spoken, the radio operator handed over the walkie-talkie: “Call from Blade Battalion.”

Aromeyev took the walkie-talkie: “This is Aromeyev, what’s the matter?”

“The brigade’s firepower is too fierce; we can’t push through! We’ve only got light weapons and can’t break through the enemy’s tight defenses! I request to flank from behind the enemy lines.”

Aromeyev: “No, the enemy’s rear is left for commandos to infiltrate. If we go around, we’ll startle the snake. Keep up a fierce attack on the enemy from the front; the commandos should have already gotten through, and soon you’ll see fire in the enemy’s backyard.”

“Alright, Brigadier, we’ll think of another way.”

The commando team members are the instructors of the First Airborne Brigade, so no one knows the capabilities of the commandos better than the soldiers of the First Brigade.

Aromeyev returned the walkie-talkie to the radio operator and continued observing the firefight area with the Artillery Mirror.

Suddenly, he noticed there was a significant amount of guard force around one of the armored command vehicles.

“No way?” he muttered to himself, reaching out to the radio operator, “Walkie-talkie.”

The radio operator immediately stuffed the bulky walkie-talkie back into his hands.

“Second Battalion Commander, Second Battalion Commander, Aromeyev calling.”

“This is Second Battalion! The battalion commander has been martyred; Marokov is in command, Brigadier, please speak!”

“Your battalion advances another hundred meters; if you climb over the wall, you’ll see an armored command vehicle surrounded by a lot of security—there could be senior Prosen officers inside!”

“A hundred meters ahead? I’ll see if we can send some guys to infiltrate, but don’t get your hopes up too high, Brigadier; the entire way is filled with enemy fire points.”

As soon as these words were spoken, something exploded within the enemy position, a fireball rising several stories high, momentarily illuminating the small town where enemy headquarters was located as if it were daylight.

Aromeyev: “The situation has changed, leave it to the commandos. You all should conserve your strength, just contain the enemy.”

“Understood.”

Aromeyev handed the walkie-talkie back to the radio operator again, adjusted the focus of the Artillery Mirror, and aimed it towards the direction of the explosion.

He happened to see Prosen soldiers distracted by the explosion as commando team members crept by from the side.

Aromeyev: “I knew this explosion was their doing.”

————

Marshal Gollon watched the sudden rise of the fireball and cursed, “Damn it, the enemy—frontal attacks are just a ruse to draw our attention; the real killing move is behind.”

Deputy Officer: “I’ll immediately redeploy our troops…”

“No, just fortify around the headquarters perimeter—I refuse to believe that the enemy infiltration troops can forcefully cross the defense line formed by armored vehicles and barricades!”

————

Jonathan suddenly raised his right fist, and the commando team members following him came to a halt, squatting in place, guarding their surroundings.

“Doctor” caught up from the back of the line, asking in a low voice, “What’s the matter?”

“Do you see that sign up ahead? Is it the enemy’s laundry?”

The Doctor peeked and nodded, “Yes, that’s the laundry.”

Jonathan: “Good, we’re going to change into the enemy’s clothes and stroll right through the enemy’s blockade.”

Doctor: “There might still be Ante Paratroopers attacking here, which could lead to friendly fire.”

“The enemy thinks the same. Hence, there’s risk and reward. I’ve decided, we’ll do it this way. Those who speak Prosenese come with me, everyone else stays alert around here.”

“No,” the Doctor held back Jonathan who was about to move, “I should lead the disguise team, you command everyone else.”

Before Jonathan could respond, the Doctor waved his hand, “Follow me.”

After saying this, the Doctor led the way, and the members of the disguise team all followed.

Jonathan could only watch them go, continuing to hide in the shadows, remaining vigilant.

Soon, a new group of “Prosen soldiers” emerged from the laundry, with the leading Prosen Officer still buttoning up his jacket as he walked out.

However, this group of “Prosen Army” soldiers all had a white band tied around their sleeves, something the Prosens should have failed to notice.

Jonathan said, “Pass it back, those with white bands on their sleeves are friendly forces, be careful not to engage in friendly fire.”

“Pass it back, those with white bands on their sleeves are friendly forces, be careful not to engage in friendly fire.”

As the message was relayed, the doctor glanced in Jonathan’s direction and, with a wave of his hand, ordered in Prosenese, “Turn right, double march!”

This small squad of “Prosen Soldiers” then ran into the night.

Jonathan said, “Advance! Keep up with the doctor and the others!”

————

Southern Army Group Command Guard Corps, the last defensive line.

Major Hoffman saw a squad of Prosen soldiers running towards his position through the night.

He stepped forward and shouted, “Hold on, where are you headed?”

The leading officer shouted back, “We are ordered to reinforce the defense of the Headquarters!”

Major Hoffman said, “Is that so, then reinforce Sergeant Weikos’ bunker, they only have one machine gunner and the sergeant himself there.”

As they spoke, the small squad of reinforcement soldiers reached Major Hoffman.

The major suddenly noticed the white band on the sleeves of the squad and asked, puzzled, “What is this white band on your sleeves?”

“Identification band,” the leading officer said with a smile, “to prevent friendly fire from our own men.”

Major Hoffman didn’t catch on, “What friendly fire?”

The leading officer landed a heavy blow, and Major Hoffman was knocked out cold.

Behind him, a sergeant raised his submachine gun and shouted, “Arau…”

But the soldier with the white band had already rushed up and delivered a precise butt-stroke to the sergeant’s face, knocking him down.

At the same time, beret-wearing soldiers emerging from the shadows slit the throats of other Prosen soldiers at the checkpoint, and the gunner on the half-track vehicle was taken down by a thrown knife to the eye.

The tank parked next to the checkpoint didn’t notice the incident, as tank operators have limited visibility, and without sticking their heads out, they can only see a little through the observation ports.

Commandos appearing from the shadows climbed onto the tank and knocked on the hatch.

The tank commander opened the hatch to poke his head out, “What’s going on?”

The silenced weapon made a “puff” sound, and the commander was shot, but his clothes were grabbed, preventing his body from sliding down.

The commando who knocked on the hatch extended his silenced pistol between the commander and the hatch and blew off the heads of the tank operators one by one.

As all this was happening, the “Prosen Officer” who had taken down Major Hoffman tossed his cap aside, shed his uniform, revealing commando gear underneath.

Someone in the dark called out in Angsa language, “Shall we take the half-track straight for the vital point?”

Jonathan said, “No, take the tank!”

So the commando team members clambered onto the tank, opened the hatch, dragged out the dead Prosens, and jumped inside.

Jonathan climbed up onto the tank, standing behind the turret, and pointed to a nearby tank, “First, pop the hatches on the other tanks!”

“Understood. Load the armor-piercing shell!”

The turret slowly turned as Jonathan urged, “Hurry up, will you!”

“You have to let the engine rev up, otherwise the electric motor doesn’t have enough power, that’s the speed.”

As the barrel aligned with the target, the gunner commando shouted, “Firing!”

Before Jonathan could respond, the tank fired.

The target’s “back of the head” was struck and immediately exploded into the second-most dazzling flower in the night sky—the first being the ammunition depot explosion created by the commandos.

————

“Hmm?” Marshal Geron was shocked and leaned out the window to look outside, “Why has a tank exploded?”

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The deputy officer didn’t answer because he was also looking out the door trying to figure out what was happening.

The marshal saw another tank rotating its barrel.

Judging from the lingering dust that hadn’t settled, this tank had just fired.

Marshal Geron exclaimed, “Damn it, the enemy has seized our tanks! These despicable scoundrels, always resorting to such underhanded tricks!”

Before he finished speaking, the tank fired again, targeting “friendly forces.”

The struck Number Four tank burst into flames, and the tank operator frantically bailed out, rolling on the ground trying to extinguish the fire.

The last Number Four near the Headquarters was still confused; the tank commander poked his head out of the turret trying to grasp the situation.

The treasonous Number Four fired for a third time.

Marshal Geron stopped looking outside and said to his deputy officer, “It’s no use, I need to leave. Let’s switch clothes!”

The deputy officer hesitated momentarily but quickly began to unbutton, “Yes, Your Excellency, Marshal.”

At that moment, the “treasonous” Number Four that had destroyed three tanks aimed its barrel directly at the Headquarters’ main entrance, a high-explosive round annihilated the door.

Then, as it sprayed with its machine-gun, it charged towards the entrance.

In the darkness, silhouettes could be faintly seen following the tank towards the main entrance, most likely the infiltrating enemies.