Invasion of America

Chapter 43: Man vs. Machine
Zhou Qingfeng squatted behind the sofa in the suite's living room, his back leaning against the heavy leather sofa, his head buzzing and the aftermath of the explosion still echoing in his ears.

An explosion in a confined space will cause a brief but extremely intense air overpressure due to the shock wave, which is several orders of magnitude greater than setting off firecrackers next to your ears.

Those who are close will be stunned even if they are not killed by the explosion; those who are farther away will inevitably feel a piercing pain in their eardrums, a heaviness in their chest and lungs, and difficulty breathing.

When the drone flew in, Zhou Qingfeng was the fastest to react, flipping directly onto the sofa. But after the explosion, he still felt pain in his chest from the overpressure.

After the shock wave passed, he was the first person to look out into the living room to see what was happening, his eyes quickly sweeping across the suite that was already in a mess.

The originally luxurious crystal chandelier was shattered, and thousands of small crystals were blown away like shrapnel.

The glass furniture broke into pieces and scattered all over the floor, reflecting the remaining light from the chandelier.

The decorative oil paintings on the wall were blown askew and fell off, the ceiling was charred, and the air was filled with gunpowder smoke and the stench of burnt food.

The sea breeze blew in from the balcony and quickly blew away the smoke in the living room.

There was a thin translucent thread floating gently in the sea breeze, gleaming faintly under the residual light of the chandelier.

It was like an invisible snake, dancing slowly in the air, sometimes straightening, sometimes bending, leading to the darkness outside the balcony.

It's fiber optic.

The drone attack just now was not simply remotely controlled, but was precisely guided through optical fiber.

The high bandwidth, anti-interference and low latency characteristics of optical fiber make it almost invulnerable when operating drones at close range.

This also means that the attacker who controlled the drone was not far away, but on the "Caribbean" cruise ship.

Carl was squatting not far away. He was the first to stand up to check on Governor Weston's condition. Then his face turned pale and beads of sweat oozing from his forehead slid straight into his collar.

This is the governor!

Not some random cat or dog on the street.

If it were the big Eastern country across the ocean, this person would be a combination of a senior official and a secretary, and could enter the Politburo.

After confirming that the governor was beyond saving, Carl went to check on the others.

The two colleagues who helped the governor leave were seriously injured, but Director Schmidt, who pushed the governor, was unharmed. He sat up from the ground and stared at the corpse in a daze.

Carl also saw the fiber optic cable fluttering in the living room. He gritted his teeth and carefully moved around the debris on the floor toward the balcony.

The optical fiber was as thin as a hair, almost blending into the night. He followed the direction of the fiber, trying to find its source.

But he was soon disappointed. The attackers had severed the fiber optic cable immediately after the explosion. The sea breeze blew the hair-thin fiber optic cable in all directions.
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With the help of his agents, Director Schmidt sat on a chair and took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

It took him several minutes to recover. He quickly ordered the scene to be blocked, prohibiting anyone from leaving the Caribbean cruise ship, and notified the state government.

At the same time, he called Deputy Director Carl to his side and whispered, "This is a terrorist attack. Arrest the Asian guy named Victor, and don't let his men go either."

Carl was puzzled, but immediately realized that the director was looking for a scapegoat.

It is totally unreasonable to say that this attack was planned by Zhou Qingfeng.

Governor Weston had come to the presidential suite from first class on a whim before he was killed, and Zhou Qingfeng had been brought back from the outer deck by Carl.

The two met by accident.

But the words the governor said before his death were extremely informative.

He mentioned that Zhou Qingfeng obtained more than one billion US dollars with his tacit approval, and also mentioned "Apocalypse Biology", Professor Aamir Khan and encrypted hard drives.

The reason why the FBI Los Angeles branch rushed in by helicopter at night was because Governor Weston personally ordered it. He also ordered the arrest of Zhou Qingfeng without any evidence.

No one would believe that there is nothing fishy behind this.

Director Schmidt's meaning was very clear. Continuing to implement the governor's order would reduce a lot of pressure on the FBI.

A higher-ranking official can crush a person to death. Carl knew that something was wrong, but he had no choice.

He turned around and saw that Zhou Qingfeng and others had been surrounded by several agents. The two men's eyes met, both of them calm.

"Victor, I'm sorry, I need your assistance in the investigation." Carl walked over, still considering whether to take out the handcuffs.
At this moment, a buzzing sound of drone rotors suddenly came from outside the balcony of the presidential suite.

The sound, coming from far away and rapidly approaching, instantly shattered the silence in the room. All the agents, like startled birds, quickly scattered and sought cover.

Here it comes, here it comes, the terrorist attack comes again.

Director Schmidt reacted the fastest. He jumped up from his chair, not caring about his image, and rushed out of the suite.

Everyone is equal in the face of explosives. The governor is dead, so it wouldn't be surprising if another director died.

Carl rushed to the balcony without hesitation, trying to close the sliding door and draw the curtains. However, before his hand touched the door handle, gunshots were heard outside the balcony.

"Bang, bang, bang!" Several bursts of gunfire came from outside, and the bullets shattered the floor-to-ceiling windows on the balcony, sending glass fragments flying everywhere.

Then, bullets rained down, shattering the furniture and walls in the suite's living room.

Carl was nearly hit by a bullet, and he quickly fell to the ground, crawling to the side to avoid it. As he lay down, he clearly saw another small drone appear outside the balcony.

The drone was carrying an assault rifle equipped with a large-capacity drum magazine and was coldly strafing the room.

Obviously, this second drone is used to assess the damage to the target and provide follow-up fire if necessary.

After the balcony glass was shattered, the suite's living room was no longer suitable for staying in. All the agents fled outside, but the next second, they all fled back in unison.

Because something even more terrifying came outside—five or six mechanical dogs appeared out of nowhere.

These mechanical dogs are equipped with rifles, grenade launchers, and even flamethrowers on their backs. They have strong firepower and are not afraid of death. Whoever shoots at them will be in trouble.

Especially the flamethrower. Although it looks ordinary and is just a household model used to burn dead branches and leaves in American country villas, its power is terrifying.

The flames could reach five or six meters high, and the scorching heat was far more terrifying than bullets. Even the bravest people would flee in panic.

Director Schmidt had just rushed to the door of the suite when he ran head-on into the mechanical dog's flamethrower.

The flames swept over him in an instant, and he let out a shrill scream. His eyebrows, beard and hair were all curled up, and he fled back in a mess, his face full of fear and pain.

The room was in chaos, the agents were dodging everywhere, the footsteps of the mechanical dogs and the roar of the flamethrowers were intertwined, as if the end of the world was coming.

Zhou Qingfeng lay on the sofa, his heart beating like a drum. In his ears were the funny footsteps of the mechanical dog and the sound of bullets whizzing past. From time to time, the heat waves from the raging flames rushed into his eyes.

No one expected the attacks to come in waves, seemingly endlessly. He could only stay close to the ground, minimizing his exposure while observing his surroundings for possible hiding places.

At this moment, Director Schmidt fled back in a panic, his eyes quickly locked on the leather sofa against the wall in the living room.

The sofa was large and thick, its heavy leather and solid wood frame making it the sturdiest shelter in the room.

The director practically threw himself behind the sofa, hiding as he did so, shouting, "I'm Director Schmidt, cover me. Quickly take out these mechanical bastards."

Zhou Qingfeng glanced at the sudden appearance of the people around him, and without thinking too much, he asked directly: "Do you have a gun?"

Although he could legally purchase and possess rifles, handguns were strictly controlled, and he had no weapons with him when he boarded the cruise ship.

Director Schmidt didn't hesitate. He quickly pulled out a P320 pistol from his waist and handed it to Zhou Qingfeng, shouting, "Fight back! Fight back immediately."

Zhou Qingfeng took the gun and felt a little more at ease.

However, the situation in the suite became increasingly critical.

All six mechanical dogs have rushed into the presidential suite. Working in pairs, they cooperate with each other and force the federal agents to retreat.

These mechanical dogs can not only carry a load of forty to fifty kilograms and maneuver at high speed, but have also been fully modified, have sufficient ammunition, and fierce firepower.

What's even more terrifying is that their vital parts are equipped with heavy armor, and it is difficult to completely destroy them unless the camera, communication antenna or control panel is directly damaged.

Some agents had already used up all the bullets in their magazines. In desperation, they rushed forward and tried to kick the mechanical dogs down with their feet, but they found that these mechanical dogs had excellent balance and could not be kicked at all.

Their four legs flexibly adjust their center of gravity, and they are quite strong and have good perception. If they sense someone kicking them, they will immediately turn around and look for the target.

Suddenly, a mechanical dog rushed to the side of the sofa, with its gun pointed directly at the back of the sofa.

Zhou Qingfeng had just picked up the pistol and had no time to adjust his posture when he heard the footsteps of the mechanical dog getting closer.

His heart tightened, and he pushed Director Schmidt's lower back without hesitation.

The director was already in a panic, squatting behind the sofa. He was pushed and fell to the ground, hitting his head hard on the floor.

As soon as he raised his head, he saw the mechanical dog's cold muzzle pointing at him, only two meters away.

"I am Director Schmidt!" He shouted this almost instinctively, as if hoping that his identity could bring a glimmer of hope.

The mechanical dog did not react at all. It lowered its head slightly, and the muzzle of the machine gun on its back adjusted accordingly, followed by a burst of dense "thump thump" sounds.

The director's head exploded instantly, and blood and brain matter splattered all over the ground.

Taking advantage of the moment when the director blocked the attack, Zhou Qingfeng had the opportunity to adjust his posture, aim the gun at the camera under the mechanical dog's head, and calmly pull the trigger.

Two shots were fired, and the camera shattered.

Even without its eyes, the mechanical dog did not fall down immediately.

Having lost its vision, it entered a "frenzy" state, and the machine gun on its back began to fire wildly, with bullets pouring out like raindrops.

Its modified machine gun is connected to a 200-round ammunition box, providing extremely strong sustained firepower.

Bullets whizzed past Zhou Qingfeng's head, and the line of fire from the muzzle swept back and forth, suppressing his escape but also threatening to shoot him into a sieve at any time.

Zhou Qingfeng didn't dare to look up, so he could only raise his pistol slightly and shoot continuously in the direction of the mechanical dog. However, even after he emptied the magazine, the mechanical dog still did not fall down.

Just as he tried to pull Director Schmidt's body over as a shield, he suddenly heard a buzzing sound behind his head.

Zhou Qingfeng's heart sank to the bottom in an instant - he realized that he had overlooked a fatal existence: the second drone from the direction of the balcony had already come in.

However, the expected bullet did not hit him.

Instead, when the gunshot rang out from behind, it was the robot dog that fell. The drone's machine gun had accurately struck the machine gun mount on the robot dog's back, completely destroying it.

Zhou Qingfeng quickly turned over and met the drone's camera's gaze. Neither side made any further movement, as if in a silent standoff.

Until several gunshots were heard not far away - Luxor, the bodyguard, aimed his gun and several bullets hit the drone accurately.

It shook a few times and fell to the ground like a broken toy with a dull "clang" sound.
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The battle finally came to an end, and the air was filled with smoke and the smell of burning.

The fire sprinklers were activated by the high temperature of the flamethrowers, and water poured down from the ceiling like a cold rain for the massacre.

Carl stood in the middle of the room, his face pale, with beads of water on his forehead, either from sweat or the shower head.

He no longer dared to approach the balcony. At most, he reached out and pulled the curtains to try to block possible prying eyes. The thin layer of cloth could also bring some sense of security.

The federal agents paid a heavy price - more than half of them were killed or injured - before they finally destroyed the six mechanical dogs.

The room was in a mess, with broken furniture, bullet-riddled walls, and the remains of a mechanical dog lying on the ground, silently telling of the brutality of the battle.

Everyone was like a frightened bird, hiding behind cover, not daring to move. Their eyes scanned the surroundings vigilantly, weapons gripped tightly in their hands, as if ready to face the next wave of attack at any moment.

Urgent calls came from the communicator, and the agents desperately called for support, with undisguised fear in their voices.

They knew that if a few more mechanical dogs came, none of the survivors in the presidential suite would be spared.

This is a terrible battle and a revolutionary battle. Humans are fighting against machines and are losing miserably.

Zhou Qingfeng leaned against the wall, his clothes soaked by the spray, sticking to his body and bringing him waves of coldness. The magazine of the "P320" pistol in his hand was empty.

He squatted down, fumbled for two spare magazines from Director Schmidt's body, and quickly replaced them. Then, his eyes fell on the downed drone.

The drone lay quietly on the ground, with bullet holes clearly visible on its fuselage, but there were still bullets in the mounted machine gun drum and no signs of jamming.

Zhou Qingfeng checked it carefully and found that it was in good working condition and had no malfunctions before it was shot down.

This made him even more confused - why did the drone attack the mechanical dog and spare him?

He squatted beside the drone, his brow furrowed, his mind rapidly replaying the scene just now. The drone's camera had stared at him.

At that moment, he felt an eerie calm, as if the other party was evaluating him rather than seeing him as a target.

"This is not right...unless the person controlling the drone knows me." Zhou Qingfeng murmured softly, his fingers lightly touching the drone's body. The cold metal touch made him sober up a little.

He raised his head and looked at Carl and the other agents, and found that they were still in a highly nervous state and no one noticed the abnormality of the drone.

At this moment, Helen in the second-class cabin cut off the remote control fiber of the drone, quickly packed up the drone remote control at hand, stuffed the debris into the garbage bag, placed it at the door of the room, and waited for her companions to clean up.

(End of this chapter)