Invasion of America

Chapter 102 Museum

At the entrance to Roslyn subway station, four escalators descend fifty or sixty meters underground, like the throat of a giant beast.

This is a project built during the Cold War, with underground concrete walls up to two meters thick, capable of withstanding even the shockwaves of a nuclear blast.

National Guard soldiers surrounded the station entrance, watching a pickup truck crash into the escalator entrance.

The pickup truck's front end was twisted and deformed from the impact, stuck firmly in the subway station like a wedge, with gasoline leaking from the fuel tank, emitting a strong and dangerous odor.

"Damn it, how are we supposed to get in?" a soldier kicked the pickup truck's tires. "Is it going to explode?"

"Call a tow truck first..." another soldier planned to report, hoping to give their superior a headache. After all, they were all wearing white protective suits, which were really not suitable for combat.

Suddenly, the crisp sound of high heels clicking on the ground came from behind the crowd.
-
As soon as Monica got out of the car, she waved her Department of Homeland Security badge at the soldiers on the scene and walked to the subway entrance that was blocked by the pickup truck.

Half an hour ago, the city's surveillance cameras sounded an alarm, facial recognition locked onto the target, and the surveillance footage was frozen on the moment Zhou Qingfeng pushed the handcart into the tunnel.

“Victor…” Monica uttered the name with a hint of amusement, “We meet again.”

The guard glanced at the insignia on the woman's uniform and said respectfully, "Sir, we're calling a tow truck—"

“Why bother calling a tow truck?” Monica turned around and shouted to the 'dark-skinned hulking man' behind her, “Let’s go to Pentagon Station, it’s time to settle things with that kid!”

The monstrous, dark-skinned giant responded, signifying that he had accepted the order.

Standing behind Monica, Jaeger, a former Secret Service employee, rubbed his chin, his stubble, which he hadn't shaved for three days, prickling his palm.

Monica is a crazy woman. Because she got vaccinated, she doesn't wear protective clothing in the epidemic area and continues to dress normally.

Hunting down Zhou Qingfeng became an obsession for this American "spoiled girl," and she would get excited whenever she saw him.

Unfortunately, this woman's mother is the Chief of Naval Operations, a four-star admiral, responsible for the Navy's personnel and resource allocation, and able to attend the Joint Chiefs of Staff meetings—a true power figure in the American military.

Jaeger opened his mouth, knowing that nothing he said would make a difference, so he could only follow along helplessly. He now missed the days when he was Zhou Qingfeng's bodyguard; those were such a leisurely time.

At this moment, the only thing he could do was try to borrow a platoon from the National Guard, ostensibly to 'hunt down fugitives,' but actually to protect the 'general's daughter.'

But he also had a premonition that the two mortal enemies who couldn't stand each other were about to meet and fight to the death.
-
Inside the dark tunnel, old man Hammer ripped off the hood of his protective suit. He gasped for breath, sweat streaming down his deeply lined face.

"This damn thing is worse than being in a body bag!" the old man cursed hoarsely, throwing the white plastic sheet, which smelled of disinfectant, on the ground.

The lining of the protective suit was soaked through, sticking to the skin like dead skin about to peel off.

Seeing her grandfather's purple lips, Lucy decisively advised the others, "Take them off. We won't make it to the exit in these."

Protective suits were discarded beside the railway tracks.

The aftershocks of the explosion were still spreading, and a blast of dust-laden air surged through the tunnel. Suddenly, the walkie-talkie crackled to life.

"Lucy, bring your men over here," Zhou Qingfeng's voice was laced with electronic noise. "The passage is open."

A group of elderly and infirm people helped each other walk more than 300 meters into a maintenance passage with polluted air.

There was some good news, though. The men who had gone ahead to scout ahead discovered a flatbed railcar abandoned in the passageway.

The vehicle body was covered in rust, but the lead-acid battery that powered the vehicle was still functional. After starting, the headlights lit up, and the vehicle could clatter along the rails.

With this simple railcar, the elderly and weak in the team can save their precious energy and move ten times faster.

“This place is probably not abandoned, but sealed off.” The army lieutenant colonel in the group pointed his flashlight to the top of the tunnel, revealing a dense network of cables.

Decades ago, the United States was wealthy and powerful; even abandoned tunnels were fully equipped and had working lines.

"I have seen many such defense projects. They are characterized by high secrecy, large scale, and complete equipment, but after being built at great expense, they are only tested a few times at most and have never been used."

The flatbed railcar moved forward, its headlights illuminating a bright, clear path.

Zhou Qingfeng unfolded the route map drawn by Mr. Brown. This tunnel would pass under the Potomac River and enter the absolute core area of ​​Washington, D.C.

Because the White House is only 1.5 kilometers from the riverbank, and the Capitol Building is less than 3 kilometers away.

A dozen minutes later, the team arrived at the end of the maintenance passage, only to be blocked by a closed wall.

Because the passage had been closed for many years, the oxygen content in the air was low, and even Zhou Qingfeng felt difficulty breathing.

Upon seeing the wall blocking the road, he didn't say a word. He took a makeshift explosive charge from the handcart, threw it under the wall, and fired a shot to detonate it.

After the explosion, a burst of fresh air rushed into the passage, and a dozen or so people emerged from the darkness into another large underground space.

Everyone looked around carefully and were surprised to find themselves in an underground parking lot. Looking at the parking lot signs, Lucy exclaimed in surprise, "We're at the National Air and Space Museum!"

Zhou Qingfeng opened the map. "It's 1.5 kilometers from the White House and less than 1,000 meters from the Capitol Building."

But now we've reached the most crucial and difficult step in this operation: finding the 'Marine One' helicopter, or more precisely, finding the Marine Corps Helicopter Squadron 1.

The men exchanged glances, then all looked at Marine Corps pilot Orno in the group. Suddenly, his face darkened, and he addressed the fleeing crowd:

"Gentlemen, I wasn't telling you the truth. I was actually worried that you wouldn't take me with you, so I made up an excuse to join you."

Upon hearing this, everyone's expression changed drastically.

Orno continued, “Actually, I can’t get a special pass from the Department of Homeland Security, and I can’t take you close to the south lawn of the ‘White House’.”

Marine One is normally on standby at Andrews Air Force Base, which is 17 kilometers away from us; it is not in Washington, D.C. at all.

The plane we're actually going to fly is right above us.

Zhou Qingfeng looked puzzled, thinking that things were about to turn violent. It was old man Hammer who reacted first, "Your idea is to fly those old planes in the aviation and aerospace museum?"

Orno nodded heavily.

The National Air and Space Museum has 24 exhibition halls and 18,000 square meters of exhibition space.

This place displays various aircraft, rockets, missiles, spacecraft, and other aviation-related artifacts that are of great significance in the history of aviation.

The exhibits range from the earliest "Flyer 1" to the German "V-2" missile, from the "Boeing 747" airliner to the "Apollo" spacecraft, and so on.

The others in the escape group were furious. "Horno, you didn't even intend to avoid the fire control radar of the capital's air defense perimeter?" Horno shook his head. "I admit it was dangerous because the large drones flying over Washington, D.C. are equipped with radar and missiles."

But flying at low altitudes, skimming the ground at a height of 100 meters, one can cover 50 kilometers in just a few minutes. With the pandemic so severe now, there are bound to be loopholes that can be exploited.

"As long as we can get out of there before the National Guard can react, we can slip away."

Upon hearing this, Zhou Qingfeng thought to himself, "If I had known it was this plan, I would have just had Chen Rui, who was waiting outside, drive the 'Holy Light One' over, make it take off and land vertically, and take me away."

But upon closer examination, 'Holy Light One' would have been easily detected by high-altitude radar along its route, posing a greater risk. It would certainly have been more surprising to take off directly from within Washington, D.C.

"Can the old plane in the museum still fly?" Zhou Qingfeng asked again.

"Some can't be opened, but some can." Orno, a former pilot, nodded emphatically. "Especially the older planes, the museum staff take good care of them and would never dismantle them."

Trust me, most older planes are easy to fly with just some fuel; they're not much harder than driving a car.

The escape team was both angry and helpless about this idea, but now that they had come this far, they had no choice but to accept it.

Zhou Qingfeng glanced around at the hundreds of vehicles of various types in the parking lot and thought to himself, "Great, the fuel problem is solved too. Let's get started."
-
Emergency lights shone every twenty meters in the tunnel, casting a cold, desolate glow on the smooth railway tracks.

Jaeger raised his hand to signal the team to stop and asked the operator beside him, "Are the mechanical dogs responding?"

A guard shook his head, staring at his handheld terminal: "The thermal imaging is clean, but there's a lot of debris around the corner ahead; it's probably from an explosion."

Having learned from the previous experience of Luxor leading the assassination attempt on Zhou Qingfeng and Hammer, this time Jaeger brought two remote-controlled mechanical dogs from the US military to act as vanguards and scout ahead.

With the robotic dog around, the guards were more willing to cooperate; at least they had an early warning if any trouble arose.

But it was precisely because of adjusting these two mechanical dogs that Jaeger wasted about half an hour.

After locating the 'J-12' maintenance access tunnel that Zhou Qingfeng had blown open, they were delayed for another half hour. This was because the tunnel was too stuffy, and while waiting for ventilation, they sent the robotic dog in to investigate first.

With the journey dragging on and no railcars available for transportation, all the soldiers had to walk inside the tunnels.

Two hours passed by the time Monica and the others emerged from the underground parking lot at the other end of the passage.

Upon seeing the National Air and Space Museum sign in the parking lot, the pursuing soldiers suddenly realized that the escape team's target was very clear: the aircraft in the museum.

Jaeger cursed, "Fuck, who came up with this idea? Victor is a lazy bum, he doesn't seem like the type to have this kind of brain."

There were obvious oil stains on the ground in the parking lot, and the fuel tanks of many gasoline cars were opened. There were also some used bottles and cans scattered on the ground, which were obviously used as containers.

Some of the car windows were smashed, and it's unclear what was taken.

“Go up to the exhibition hall. That kid won’t get away so quickly.” Monica glanced at the 'dark-skinned strongman' behind her. “It’s your turn. Go up and kill that kid, and I’ll let you go back to Africa to be president.”

The burly, dark-skinned man from Niger was shouting excitedly, clutching an M240 machine gun with an ammunition box in his arms, and searching for the way to the exhibition hall like a headless fly.

Jaeger's face darkened, and he quickly advised Monica, "Miss, it's better to let this monster follow you. I'm worried that it will become indiscriminate in its attacks after it goes berserk."

Monica, her face grim, refused to admit her command error and instead turned to the guards who had followed her, ordering, "Follow them and lead the way for that monster."
-
Under the dome of the National Air and Space Museum, Zhou Qingfeng jerked the steering wheel, and the electric scooter swerved dramatically across the smooth marble floor.

Despite being a slow-moving mobility scooter, the tires screeched as they rubbed against the ground, echoing in the otherwise solemn spacecraft exhibition hall.

"Victor, left passage!" came the hoarse command from Army Lieutenant Colonel Mark Roberts through the headset. "Blow up the west facade, and we'll be connected to the road outside the museum!"

Zhou Qingfeng used his left hand to control the steering wheel and his right hand to pull a makeshift explosive charge from a handcart beside him.

This ordinary handcart was his carefully prepared arsenal—hidden under the outer canvas were "sugar bombs" powerful enough to flatten half a block.

"Thank goodness we have a 'vanguard' in our team, otherwise we'd still be stuck in the tunnel playing with mice!"

Pilot Orno, who was in the squadron, was inspecting a World War II-era DC-3 airliner and was overjoyed over the radio.

Most of the people in the escape team had some experience in aircraft maintenance and were busy adding fuel and lubricating oil to the old plane, as well as checking the internal battery and control system.

The DC-3 was chosen because it is of moderate size, robust and durable, has a purely mechanical structure, few easily malfunctioning electronic components, and can take the entire escape team away in one go.

The only drawback is that Zhou Qingfeng has to blast a hole five meters high and thirty meters wide, otherwise DC-3 will not be able to leave the museum's exhibition hall.

Boom!

The shockwave from the explosion shattered several spotlights on the top of the exhibition hall, and glass rained down.

Zhou Qingfeng slammed on the gas pedal, and the electric scooter shot out from the still-lingering smoke and dust. One explosion wasn't enough for him; he needed to do it several more times.

Everyone in the team realized at that moment how lucky they were to have brought Zhou Qingfeng into the team—although Mr. Brown was familiar with the underground transportation network, he didn't have much destructive power and was actually quite a burden.

Zhou Qingfeng, on the other hand, is a highly proactive 'destructive maniac'. His handcart looks cumbersome, but it's like a treasure trove, containing all sorts of things.

Half of the hundreds of kilograms of items were 'sugar explosives'. Thanks to these explosives, otherwise, just breaking through the blocked maintenance passage would have wasted a lot of precious time.

Besides the explosives, the cart also contained plenty of food and water, especially sweet bread made with ice cream as cream, which was both filling and provided enough calories.

The team relied on bread to maintain their strength and morale.

Zhou Qingfeng's first explosion blasted open a spiderweb-like crack in the glass curtain wall on the south side of the museum, and the second and third explosions spread precisely along the stress lines.

When the last three packs of explosives detonated simultaneously, the entire curtain wall collapsed as if pushed down by an invisible giant hand, forming a perfect rectangular exit.

However, there was a minor problem with the DC-3 aircraft. In order to preserve this World War II-era transport plane, the museum specially removed the starter battery to prevent battery leakage from causing unnecessary damage.

Starting two 1200-horsepower R-1830-90C radial engines without the aid of batteries is no easy task.

"Victor, I need a jump starter battery, around 24 volts. Go check the underground parking lot, they're sure to have some," the pilot shouted to Zhou Qingfeng.

Zhou Qingfeng rode back on his electric scooter, pointed at his vehicle, and asked, "Will this thing work?"

Orno's eyes lit up. "Of course. The fuel and lubricant have already been added. Give me ten minutes, and I can get it done."
-
Just then, Monica, leading a squad of National Guard soldiers, followed the trail left by the fleeing group and arrived at the World War II section of the museum.

As she emerged from the observation deck, she saw a dozen or so people circling an old-fashioned propeller plane. An electric cart was parked beneath the plane, and beside it stood her prey, whom she had been tracking for so long.

"Victor, I've finally found you!"

(End of this chapter)