Eh? Do you also want to try the iron fist of the humanoid girl?

"Identification of qualified persons?" a soldier asked.

"Why isn't there one at the NCO Academy?"

"You're an idiot, ah, that... Actually, it's a qualification training school. It's great that they can give you a skill qualification stamp."

"He is an official after all."

"My application for the Officer Training Corps was approved. What bad luck."

"Hahahaha, you want to be an officer? That's not right. If you become a second lieutenant, we won't salute you."

There was another round of noisy laughter, accompanied by the sound of rummaging through boxes.

After several minutes, the room fell silent, and the heavy footsteps grew farther and farther away.

Doug took off his headphones and gave a thumbs up to the team member who was on watch. The identity forgery was basically completed.

Cecilia gave an OK sign in return, and she saw the survivors in the scope. A group of people in camouflage uniforms crept along the stairwell of the building, scanning all areas they passed with their gun barrels.

These men, with their heavy helmets and gleaming weapons, were clearly not bandits or the fools who passed themselves off as soldiers by wearing camouflage uniforms they found at a hardware store.

Because they are the army itself, no matter what they are called now, the aura they exude in every move is completely different.

In comparison, their special agent team is much weaker.

"John, be careful! ELID infected!" someone shouted.

The team that was about to go out shrank back again. The infected outside were staring at them and were banging their silicon-metal-studded heads against the main door of the apartment.

There was another shrill sound from something in the corridor, followed by a series of crashing noises.

"Fuck! This is so fucking evil!"

"Then don't waste time here! Blow this place up quickly and then retreat!"

Cecilia noticed that they were having trouble retreating and asked, "Should we go down and help?"

"No need," Doug said after thinking for a moment, "During the identity verification process, we must not let them realize that the room is being watched, otherwise all our efforts will be wasted."

……

On the other side, Angelo Morton looked around, hid in the bushes and pointed his shotgun at the back door of the apartment.

Not long after, the door suddenly flew out.

Finally I have my prey, he thought.

boom!

Interestingly, the shotgun in my hand does not require cumbersome reloading. As long as the hand speed of changing the magazine is fast enough, it can be as fast as an automatic shotgun with a slightly slower firing rate.

It’s awesome to take a magazine and apply the mechanism of an automatic rifle to a shotgun.

He pulled the trigger again. Bang, bang, bang, bang! The muzzle of the gun jumped 10 times in a row. Bullets flew towards the door one after another. The scattered bullets hit the window, shattering the glass. Some of the glass flew back and covered the ground.

Angelo couldn't help but want to laugh. The guys downstairs wouldn't be able to bear it, haha.

He removed the empty magazine and replaced it with a new one.

No matter who it is, if they want to leave here, they must pay a toll. He caught a glimpse of the shadows moving inside the door and aimed again and fired two shots.

Angelo knew what his shooting skills were like—his chance of hitting something at medium distance was close to zero. But a shotgun was a perfect complement to his skill deficiencies.

But soon, he discovered something that terrified him.

A round object flew out of the window. If my subconscious was not mistaken, it should be a grenade.

The only force that possesses this kind of thing is the survivors who have established a safe zone in the north...

Oh my god, it's over.

Boom!

Angelo found that he could not hear anything. He felt severe pain all over his body, including his ears, and the buzzing sound would not stop.

"That's the boy!"

"Kill him!"

These were the only two sentences he could hear, and then he could hear nothing more.

Newman Lawrence kicked the Saiga-12 shotgun away from him. Didn't he remember that New York was a place with strict gun control?

Why is it that the things I encounter recently are either hand-made flamethrowers in small workshops, or shotguns that can fire automatically? It's really weird.

He touched the information hidden in his arms, and now he could finally move on to the next step.

Chapter 81 Ruthless

The team returned with evidence.

No one told Raphael, but she could infer the progress of information verification from the changes in attitudes of officers and sergeants coming and going in the survivors' army battalion headquarters.

No matter how coincidental it seems, the information and evidence in front of Bilis and others are enough to prove her identity.

The most interesting thing about the discussion about restoring the name "Ranger" is not the meaning of it - Raphael can understand some of it, but there is nothing particularly useful in it - but the fact that it has sparked a discussion proves that there are two different voices within the survivor army.

The original Rangers naturally hope to return to the chain of command. Like many people, they have wives, children, parents and friends outside of New York. However, many people who were recruited and trained locally to join the team expressed the opposite view. They were afraid that the army of survivors who had restored orthodoxy would begin to liquidate.

After all, many of them have committed crimes that are enough to arouse public indignation. It would be no problem for them to be dragged out into the outside world and sentenced to hundreds of years in prison.

According to the nature of the bullshit jury, they might have sentenced him to death. They thought they were not as rich as Simpson, so it was natural for them to be afraid and terrified.

Not only that, they can also control the life and death of others in New York and kill anyone they want!

This kind of experience can never be provided to them by the outside world.

Although American police are extremely incompetent and can only bear the consequences of whitewashing, when they search and arrest people, most of them intend to kill them directly.

New York is now a paradise for criminals, full of disorderly freedom and a paradise for people like them who are keen on violence.

Raphael maintained a high level of interest. She began to observe the every move of Bilis, the battalion headquarters, and the five subordinate companies, wanting to see what choices they would make in the future.

It remains unchanged for the time being. When they are finally "ordered" to retreat, will they be abandoned, or will they be investigated internally and then directly executed? Or will there be other more sinister arrangements, such as being sent to be cannon fodder during the recovery period, or doing something else.

Raphael was very curious now and wanted to know what they would choose.

No matter what, the choice that Bilis and others will eventually make has nothing to do with her. Thinking about this doesn't mean they will think twice before pulling the trigger, right?

The sounds of battle gradually moved upwards - whoever they were, the attackers were demonstrating their absolute superiority over the bandits.

Raphael stood in the back stairwell, listening quietly to the fight upstairs.

The survivor army set their sights on a commercial building outside the defense zone that was occupied by bandits and had a huge radio antenna on it.

Not only that, they also managed to repair the emergency generator installed on the -2 floor. She was not lying when she said it would take time, because these things were really needed.

Gunshots continued behind the door on the 6th floor.

Crack! A cloud of dust, smoke and other garbage floated in the air and fell down. The guard beside her waved his hand and brushed away the dust floating down from above.

"The room is being cleared!" someone shouted upstairs.

boom!

You call throwing grenades into the door you're watching clearing the room, huh? Raphael said it was difficult, but the effect was indeed gratifying. Throwing grenades into a nearly closed space was indeed the most reliable way to clear the room.

Amid the sounds of battle and the ringing in Raphael's ears, she heard more footsteps—something was coming up the stairs on the other side.

"Then let's go up too?" Raphael's tone sounded like a question, but in fact it was an order that could not be questioned.

She started to climb the stairwell holding the XM5 assault rifle. The two guards behind her reported upwards while picking up their guns and following Raphael's footsteps.

Judging from the sound, those scattered and heavy footsteps should not be the robbers and thugs who live here, but the infected people attracted by the sound.

It's not that she doubted the ability of the house-clearing team, but she was worried about other problems. If she contacted DARPA as soon as possible, the next step could start faster.

On the walls and corners of the stairwell, the building manager hung some strange modern paintings and sculptures. She thought this was a decorative result out of aesthetic considerations, which would make the entire building more competitive in the market.

In any case, these things have now become obstacles blocking their progress.

One step, then another, and then a head wearing a motorcycle helmet appeared in the field of vision. It should be a robber who had escaped the cleanup by chance - he was wearing a winter coat cut and sewn at a woolen stall, and holding a shotgun with a sawed-off barrel.

He was walking up a little cautiously when he stopped and listened carefully to what was happening upstairs.

You're out of luck, Raphael thought to himself.

The red dot in the center of the cross was aimed at his head. In the maelstrom of shouting and gunfire, even if the devil himself came, he would not be able to figure out what was going on.

In fact, this is what you will encounter on the battlefield.

Those who can accurately judge the battle situation and take advantage of the situation to win with only a map and a large amount of true but incomplete information are geniuses on this path.

The finger moved slightly, and the moment the trigger was pressed, the man squatting in the blind spot of the stairs fell down.

"follow me."

The two guards moved their lips slightly, and when they saw Raphael was about to disappear, they clamped their legs together, raised their toes, and quickly followed in small steps.

Don't underestimate this slow pace, it is the best walking posture when holding a gun.

Lifting your toes is to reduce vibrations, absorbing them like tracks, and when you stand up and walk, you can avoid being tripped by obstacles.

This way, the body becomes a stable shooting platform.

The two of them looked in amazement at the girl who was leading the way in front of them. She was resolving the chaos in her own way - killing all non-friendly units and quickly reducing the intensity of the battle.

Sergeant Andy Carter was amazed that the lieutenant's actions seemed to make even the devil feel cold and ruthless.

It was clear that this visitor was not bound by any constraints, moral or otherwise, under any circumstances, and she cared nothing for the fate of anyone who might happen to be lingering in the building.

She swung the rifle down and pulled out a black cylinder with her right hand. Someone with little knowledge of military knowledge didn't need an explanation as to what it was.

A few minutes ago, the noise that was heard several times in the building was exactly the same.

It was an offensive grenade, and Raphael was going to throw it.

The jerk occupying the upper stairwell noticed her movements, so he stepped forward without thinking, leaning out most of his body, and then raised his Mauser rifle and tried to aim.

boom!

The bullet flew out, hit the railing, bounced off, broke through the glass with a scream, and flew to an unknown place.

Boom!

The sudden spreading air wave blew the man out of the stairwell, and he fell to the ground and twisted into a burnt and red unknown object.

By the time he aimed, Raphael had already completed the throwing action and returned to the inside of the floor.

Chapter 82 Do I look so delicious!

The power of the offensive grenade was not bad. Raphael looked at the charred corpse. It seemed that only the face and exposed arms were burned. In fact, all the internal organs and brain matter were shaken by the shock wave caused by the explosion of dozens of grams of explosives.

She felt more clearly the difference between fragmentation grenades and offensive grenades.

Seriously speaking, if she were to fight the Ranger Reconnaissance Platoon in this building, she would definitely run away from the battle as quickly as possible instead of staying entangled for a long time.

Because the army has an extremely distinctive characteristic: it is very united and emphasizes cooperation.

Going it alone is just a show of bravery, but working as a team and laying a tight net will leave the target with no way to escape.

In addition, if the main force of the Rangers is in the rear, the armed reconnaissance team deployed in front will first launch a tentative attack. If the enemy's resistance is not fierce, the main force will directly press forward and rush to destroy the enemy's main force;

When encountering fierce resistance, switch to defense on the spot to delay the enemy, buy time for the main force to deploy, and find out the enemy's troop size and firepower equipment.

Encountering an opponent like this who is well organized and has a clear plan of advance and retreat is a nightmare experience.

Judging from the professionalism of their training, they won't do what they do in the movies, where they just jump out with an M16 slung over their shoulders, open their left hand as if hugging their arms, and hold the trigger with their right hand while shooting randomly.

Instead, they would make the most of the experience they learned from training and combat, crouching in a blind spot with very poor lighting, quietly holding their guns, aiming at their 2 o'clock or 10 o'clock positions, waiting for their prey to come to them.

Raphael sent his blessings to the robbers who were fighting hard in the building and wished them good luck.

Having said that, there must be a method to escape. Scattering like a nest of monsters will only lead to death faster, but a reasonable and orderly retreat that makes it difficult for the enemy to advance is another art.

She stopped and asked the guards behind her to contact the scouts who had already reached the 7th floor, telling them that the communications team would soon go up from the west stairwell and not to fire at the west emergency passage.

For most ordinary people, running up to join a gunfight in progress is an extremely stupid and lifelong regretful idea.

"Can you two just stay here and watch the stairwell for me?" she said as she checked the remaining bullets in the magazine.