Chapter 1185: Chapter 581: When the Fanzhen Are Strong, North Arica Is Weak; When the Fanzhen Are Weak, North Arica Perishes! (Part 2)
The deeper layer is…
So mbers of the “Golden Knights” are restless, and as the right-hand man of Norman Schwarzkopf, Admiral Frederick Franks is obliged to stabilize his position within the group.
Everyone’s interests are the sa.
But inevitably, so “short-sighted” people get crushed by the pressure.
“Execute the orders!”
The adjutant, seeing his seriousness, didn’t try to persuade further, saluted, and got to work.
In the office.
Admiral Frederick Franks looked at the map and was quite worried, “Ti waits for no one! Ti waits for no one!”
…
The Pentagon seems to be taking this seriously.
After receiving the plan from the front-line command center, Defense Minister Norman Schwarzkopf approved it imdiately without further discussion.
He knew that discussing things like this… if the operation went smoothly, it would pass without a hitch, but if things went awry, it would just turn into a bla ga.
The bureaucratic atmosphere was evident.
Upon receiving approval, Admiral Frederick Franks swiftly ordered the 58th Special Operations Regint to execute the order code-nad: “Wild Fox.”
June 24th, 02:33 AM!
Four HH-60G Pave Hawks and five CH-47 transport helicopters carried 200 fully ard soldiers from the 58th Special Operations Detachnt along with nine suspended “Hawk” light high-speed assault vehicles, crossing the “borderline” in the northwest under the cover of night, bypassing the Hereford region, and quickly landing in the outskirts of Amarillo.
Once disembarked from the helicopters, following the plan, the assault vehicles carrying 40 soldiers pushed into Amarillo to seize the airport, providing cover for subsequent C-130 aircraft to deploy follow-up troops.
Needless to say…
The U.S. Military’s elite combat techniques were impressive.
Under the night’s cover, nine “Hawk” light high-speed assault vehicles rushed toward a private airport three kiloters away. Major Howard Perry, using radio communication, relayed the ssage back to the combat center and, with the remaining soldiers, rushed into the city to seize the TV station.
As the assault team stealthily advanced into the private airport, everything seed to go smoothly, but just then, a yawning security guard draped in a coat ca out, about to head to the restroom, and saw a bunch of ard n rushing through the main entrance.
He instinctively shouted…
God knows what he shouted!
Really, no one knows what he shouted…
But the sound was alarmingly loud.
“F***! Open fire!” the team leader shouted into the earpiece, pulled the trigger, using Mozambique drill—two shots to the torso, one to the head, making the guard stagger and fall directly to the ground.
The sudden gunshots startled the snoring guards awake.
The owner of this private airport was an industrial tycoon, affluent, and although Texas didn’t permit “self-defense forces,” these wealthy individuals had casually organized a security force of dozens.
All of them were recruited retired soldiers.
But hearing the gunshots, just as these guys were jumping out of bed, the dormitory door got kicked open, the U.S. Military stood there with light machine guns, firing inside!
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat…
Bang!!
A photo on the table—depicting a loving couple gazing at each other—was hit by a flying bullet and blown away.
The dormitory was not small, more than three hundred square feet, but it couldn’t withstand such a firestorm.
In an instant…
Blood flowed like a river!
Bodies dangled from the upper bunks, their heads lolling down, faces covered in blood, eyes filled with intense fear.
After sweeping the room, the machine gunner retreated, his comrade behind him pulled out a hand grenade and tossed it in, closing the door imdiately afterward.
Boom!
After a mild tremor and reopening the door, a thick mist billowed out.
“Call the C-130, clear the airport, permission to land!” the team leader called using individual communication equipnt.
The transport planes, previously circling above New xico and Texas, received the order and deployed quickly.
They had been flying in the sky for almost an hour!
How had the Texas Republic not detected them?
This sluggish readiness was alarming!
At this mont, in the radar station in Lubbock, the duty room had no one—rather there was soone—in a small side room, a Texas soldier with a face full of freckles was watching…porn?
Even doing so traditional handiwork while at it.
The alarm outside had been turned off by him.
Red lights flashing mad; brighter than Ultraman.
Two C-130 special operation planes landed on the airport twelve minutes later, and once the rear hatch opened, the troops with assault vehicles and armored cars rapidly pushed into Amarillo!
The local National Guard numbering about 300 hadn’t reacted yet and got surrounded, but these guys were tough.
The people of Lone Star State would never be subjugated!
300 n launched an attack against U.S. Military forces, sparking intense conflict in the military encampnt on the west side of Amarillo, with gunfire that reverberated throughout the city.
Soone, curious, stepped out in pajamas, stood on the trash can at ho to look outside, but seeing the bombardnt and gunfire outside…
No one dared to venture out!
The battle lasted roughly forty minutes, with over half of the Amarillo National Guard annihilated; the rest had no choice but to surrender.
When dawn broke slightly, so bold individuals ventured out of their hos only to see U.S. Military troops patrolling the streets, loudly asking, “Hey, buddy, what happened last night?”
They thought they were Texas soldiers, mainly because both sides wore identical uniforms and hadn’t changed them…
The patrolling soldiers all turned to look at him, and that gaze made the man shudder. He swallowed hard, began to retreat slowly, and as he was about to close the door,
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