"Let me in, let me in!"
"Damn it, I'm a U.S. citizen, you have no right to treat us like this!"
"I'll sue you, I'll definitely take you to court. ☆→,"
"I am a Government Official, you have no right to stop me."
Such voices continuously erupted from the crowd, some crying and pleading, some threatening loudly, and others using their power to coerce. These methods might be useful in normal times, but now, here, they would only invite disaster.
Especially for Raymond's Deputy. Already driven neurotic by various psychological pressures, when he heard these voices, he immediately grabbed the person next to him and shouted at him.
"Make these guys shut up, shut up! I don't want to hear this nonsense. Make them get back into the city, or I'll kill you. Understand?!"
The person he grabbed had never seen such a scene and quickly waved his hands, saying, "Officer, Officer. We can open Fire, we can disperse them immediately."
"Then open Fire! No matter how many people you shoot and kill. As long as you can drive them away, you can open Fire however you want." The Deputy's grim face was terrifyingly distorted; his heart was completely twisted.
"Yes, Officer." The Soldiers, startled by his ferocious appearance, quickly responded and began to relay his orders.
Soon, the Soldiers on the wall received this crazy order. They silently disengaged their safeties, just waiting for the final command.
"This is your last chance, turn back. Otherwise, I will order you to be shot immediately." The Deputy's hoarse voice was transmitted through the broadcast to everyone's ears. That cold tone caused an even greater uproar among the survivors.
Everyone thought he was crazy, and he thought so himself. So he gritted his teeth and ordered fiercely.
"Fire, Fire! Kill everyone approaching the defense line. Dying by our hands is better than dying by a nuclear bomb. Didn't you hear me? Open Fire immediately!"
However, no matter how much he yelled, the Herald beside him did not respond. It was as if he hadn't heard him at all.
Or rather, it wasn't like he hadn't heard; he simply couldn't hear any sound anymore.
When Raymond's Deputy turned around angrily, intending to see what the person next to him was up to, all he saw was a person whose head had been pierced by an arrow.
He was about to shout, but the sound of wind was already in his ears. An arrow, however, had already pierced his throat before the wind reached his ears. Blood choked into his trachea and esophagus, blocking all his sounds and taking away his consciousness. He desperately reached out to grab something, but he couldn't grasp anything. His vision went black, and this newly minted madman completely left this World.
And in the shadows in the distance, a seemingly ordinary person with only extremely sharp eyes quietly put down his recurve bow and pressed the earbud in his ear.
"Operation begins, clear all targets!"
As soon as he finished speaking, one well-equipped Soldiers after another emerged from the shadows on the wall.
These Soldiers either slit throats, shot, or directly pushed people off the wall. In just a few seconds, the Umbrella Soldiers on the wall were completely cleared out.
The armed helicopters circling in the sky met the same fate. Various attacks, appearing from unknown sources, directly pierced through the cockpits of the aircraft, causing them to fall from the sky one after another like huge Fireballs.
In just a few breaths, Umbrella's armed forces had been completely cleared out. Except for a few clerical staff, all those carrying guns were quietly eliminated.
This situation was unexpected not only by the survivors below but also by Umbrella itself. And while everyone was still confused, a group of extremely strange aircraft appeared in mid-air.
These aircraft seemed to appear out of thin air, without a sound and without any warning. When people looked up, they were already hovering in mid-air. Subtle electric arcs and mosaic-like light flickered on their camouflage armor, making everyone feel as if they had seen a ghost.
"What kind of aircraft is this?" This was the thought of ordinary citizens.
And those elite Police and U.B.C.S. thought:
"Optical camouflage technology? Special forces?"
And soon someone responded to their thoughts. Coulson, with a severely receding hairline, stood at the open hatch of an aircraft, holding a large microphone, and spoke to everyone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the Delta Force and CIA Joint Rescue Unit. You are safe. Please stay put. We will immediately set up rescue and medical camps. Medical supplies and food will be distributed. We will check everyone's health and arrange for your departure once everything is safe. We hope you will cooperate with our operation. To repeat, we have established..."
The survivors, having experienced such dramatic ups and downs, very obediently accepted Coulson's arrangements after being rescued. And under Coulson's arrangements, S.H.I.E.L.D. members, using the names of other units, began to set up camps with extremely high efficiency.
Doctors, food, security personnel, and a large amount of medical equipment were all airlifted down. With the support of these supplies, it didn't take long for a huge survivor camp to appear below the wall. Everything was orderly, giving many people hope of survival.
But Coulson knew this was just the beginning; the real test was about to come.
From a distance came the howls of hordes of zombies, chasing after the escapees. They were in the thousands, like surging ocean waves. And they were giant waves from Yellow Springs; once touched, there would be no burial ground.
Coulson, having received accurate information, naturally dared not let the surging tide of corpses approach this newly established camp. Once the defense line was breached, almost no one would be able to escape. So he immediately ordered.
"Barton, take the aircraft and combat units, and stop these monsters from coming. You are allowed to use all heavy weapons, but absolutely no monster must Breakthrough your defense line!"
"Leave it to me!" The sharp-eyed man nodded, called his people, and boarded the aircraft, flying towards the tide of corpses. To deal with Umbrella, they had made ample preparations. Whether it was a tide of corpses or other monsters, they could handle it easily. Advanced weapons and ample logistical support were their proud strengths.
As the most powerful intelligence organization in the World, they had an Innate advantage in handling such matters.
So Coulson wasn't worried that Barton would fail; he was worried about other issues.
He kept his eyes on the orderly camp, but his feet shifted restlessly back and forth. When a subordinate with an important task appeared before him, he immediately asked impatiently.
"How is it, can it be resolved?"
"Officer, please look." The subordinate, holding a tablet, placed it in front of Coulson. Through the screen, Coulson could clearly see a group of people sleeping in large freezer-like containers. A faint cold mist lingered around them. Nearby medical instruments showed that they were in a low-consumption sleep state.
"Currently, we have controlled over three hundred infected individuals. The virus in their bodies is not active in ultra-low temperature environments, so there is no immediate risk of transformation." The subordinate explained while bringing up another cell image.
"This is the situation inside the infected individuals. The virus, affected by low temperatures, has slowed its erosion of cells and other tissues, but this erosion has not stopped; it is still ongoing. It's just that the time has lengthened. Therefore, everything at present is temporary. We can only alleviate, not cure. We need more detailed virus data."
"How much time can you buy me?" Everyone wanted more detailed data, but Coulson couldn't get such a thing right now. Natasha still had no news. He had to prepare for the worst.
"Not much, Officer. With our current technology, we can only hold on for a maximum of twenty-four hours. After twenty-four hours, these infected individuals will be completely transformed. I suggest you prepare!"
What kind of preparation was naturally self-evident. S.H.I.E.L.D. was, after all, an intelligence organization, and few such organizations hadn't killed people. As it stood, the last resort would inevitably be to eliminate this group of infected individuals. S.H.I.E.L.D. could not allow these things to enter human society. If they did, all their current efforts would be completely wasted.
"Do your best to prolong this time for me." Coulson did not explicitly state his attitude; he just repeated again and again. "I will get the data back. Before that, you must ensure these people are alive, understand?!"
"I will try my best, Officer!"
"I want you to do your best, this is an order!" Coulson raised his voice.
"Yes, Officer!" The subordinate saluted and quickly rushed back to his position. Coulson told him to do his best to save these people, so he naturally had to give his all. Racing against time was already an inevitable choice.
And watching his subordinate leave, Coulson finally couldn't help but murmur.
"Natasha, this time it really all depends on you."
Meanwhile, in a hospital near Raccoon City Central Elementary School, Natasha was in a stalemate with someone.
She pressed a blonde loli's head with her hand, shielding her behind her, while cautiously peeking around the corner.
Gunshots immediately rang out, and a sharp pain instantly shot through her arm. This made her quickly retract her body and vigorously rub the area.
Because she was wearing a nanometal combat suit, this gunshot, apart from causing her some pain, had no other effect. However, she still dared not move carelessly; the combat suit did not protect her head, and a shot there would still mean certain death. Moreover, she had a target to protect beside her.
It had been a long time since she had encountered such a stalemate. Checking the time and realizing it was getting more and more urgent, she decided to try a different direction for a Breakthrough.