South of the Gambia coastline, in Tuo Luoji Province, in Gnouha Town, it was midnight.
Twelve mbers of the Shadow PMC Special Forces lay hidden among the woods, occupying a hillside.
Grev put on his night vision goggles, picked up the DLQ33 sniper rifle, and looked down at the small town from the slope.
The people moving back and forth on the streets were not civilians but fully ard Caucasian soldiers.
He pressed the button on his chest radio and said, "Shadow calling the den."
"This is the den," a dignified, deep voice replied from the other end.
"My n are in position, and just like the intelligence reported, there are no Gambian governnt forces here, only Caucasians. Who are they?" Grev asked.
"It’s not just us who are after the Heavenly Falling Objects; those soldiers are probably from so country in the Western Alliance," the man said.
"If we open fire on them, won’t it cause a political dispute?" Grev asked.
"I’ve got hold of reliable intelligence. The United Council and the Sethiyan Federation’s joint forces have sent Wei Tianyang on this operation," the man said.
"Wei Tianyang... Ah, that guy is here too?" Grev was sowhat surprised.
"His presence is a secret. The joint forces don’t want to be accused of abusing the Superpower Special Departnt, but clearly, without him, they have no confidence," the man said.
"What do you an?" Grev asked.
"The dead will be Wei Tianyang’s responsibility. No one knows you’re here. Destroy the town, and drag away the thing that fell," the man said.
"You want to pin this on him? I should remind you, aren’t you afraid he’ll seek revenge?" Grev asked.
"He doesn’t know , and he won’t know you’re here. The headache will be for the United Council. As far as I know, Wei Tianyang has shown signs of losing control for a while now. His performance in the past few missions... hasn’t t everyone’s expectations, and besides... slaughtering the town’s troops is quite in line with his usual style. When the ti cos, the United Council will keep our secret," the man said with a sinister laugh.
"Understood," Grev said.
The communication ended, and he switched to a new channel, connecting again.
"Shadow calling Eagle," he said.
"Received," the operator replied.
"Load the white phosphorus rounds, initiate Plan C," Grev ordered.
"Arriving in five minutes," the operator responded.
Minutes later, a faint rumble of thunder sounded in the quiet night sky.
The reaper from the skies poured down flas, and white specks of light descended to the earth, setting ablaze the streets and houses of the small town.
In an instant, the town that lay dormant at night was thoroughly ablaze; the flas reddened the sky, bright as daylight.
Many soldiers below shouted, but more white phosphorus rounds fell like rain upon the streets, accompanied by the pounding of large-caliber air cannons. Facing such overwhelming aerial firepower, the defenseless town could only be slaughtered at will.
The bombing continued for twelve minutes; the town was plowed over, with its low square reduced to rubble, and the open fields and paths turned to ash.
As fuel and ammunition for the gunships in the air were nearly depleted, they returned to base.
"We’ll go in first. That thing is hidden at the fishery by the seaside," Grev said.
Saying this, he led the Special Forces down the muddy slope and into the bombed-out town.
There were many corpses on the streets, and a few people erged from the destroyed buildings, supporting injured companions, all bloodied and staggering forward.
They saw Grev’s n and cried out for help in Sylvan.
Grev lifted his ICR rifle and shot them down directly.
They cleared a street, Grev arranged for so n to set up a checkpoint, and then headed to the fishing grounds with the remaining four n.
The makeshift dock had been turned to ruins by white phosphorus bombs, but the concrete-built drydock was unscathed by the bombing.
Looking at the huge warehouse in front of him, Grev pulled out a device resembling a barcode scanner from his side bag, then put on AR glasses, and pointed the scanner at the warehouse door.
In the HUD of the AR glasses, a very high reading appeared.
"My God," he exclaid.
The team mbers stepped forward, opened the gate, and as the heavy iron door slowly opened, the massive Heavenly Falling Object appeared before him.
It was tied to an iron plate, a black cloth fixed its four corners, covering it. Only a black fishtail was slightly exposed.
"Do we need to open it and take a look?" one team mber asked.
Grev shook his head, "I sure as hell don’t want to see this thing. Bring the vehicle over."
Half an hour later, Grev stood on the street side, watching his n load the Heavenly Falling Object into the Shadow PMC’s container truck without any changes.
Before he got into the truck, he took one last look at the bombed-out town and the bodies that littered the street, sighed, and then left with the vehicle.
Far away in the Sethiyan Federation.
That night, a 72-year-old white man was sitting in his ho’s study, with two n in their sixties with him, all staring intently at the laptop on the table as if waiting for sothing.
At that mont, Grev’s voice ca from the computer: "The goods have been transported to the border."
The three n let out a sigh of relief.
"Good lad, smoother than I imagined," the septuagenarian said with a smile.
"The thing now is the next President’s election," another old man said with a grin.
"Our party will have a hard ti competing against Steijie for votes, even though he can’t run again, and his successor might still be the next President. After all, the impact of the gun prohibition bill is too significant," the third man nodded in agreent.
"He has offended many people—the Yixu Consortium, the Rifle Association... and many potential organizations are worrying. They aren’t wary of Steijie but fear Wei Tianyang’s retribution," the septuagenarian said.
"Even if you get into office, trying to repeal his laws will et with significant resistance, and we don’t know what Wei Tianyang’s attitude will be," the old man looked concerned.
"Don’t worry, my friends. Wei Tianyang’s good days are numbered," the septuagenarian said with a smile.
Hearing this, the other two n’s cloudy eyes shone, and they both turned to the septuagenarian.
"He’s just a lucky fellow on drugs, but we’ve recently co into contact with a real... living god from the heavens," the septuagenarian said with a chuckle.
"We’ve made contact?! When?! Does Steijie know?" the old man was surprised.
"The House of Representatives has sealed the news. The people in charge of the contact are not Steijie’s n. Currently, only about ten people know this, including you and ," the septuagenarian explained.
"So... who is it? What does it look like? Can it... speak and communicate? Has it promised to help us?" The two old n bombarded with many questions.
The septuagenarian looked out the window and said, "She appeared in the form of a mother, ca here just looking for her lost offspring, and what we retrieved tonight in Gambia may be one of them."
"Could it be... the Holy Mother truly exists..." the old man made the sign of the cross over his chest.
"She said, her na is Lilith," the septuagenarian said.
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