Oliver drove the massive fuel truck out of the hangar, hooked it up to the pump, and began refueling the three large aircraft with a steady rumble.
Lee, waiting in the power distribution room, was getting restless. He grabbed the radio.
"Oliver, buddy, when are you going to take a look at my fighter jet?"
"Soon, soon! Hey, Ethan, can you keep an eye on the fuel truck for me? Just watch this button. When it's full, stop it and switch to the next plane."
Oliver called out to Ethan in the mobile power truck. He was completely swamped.
"OK, I'm coming!"
As soon as he freed himself, Oliver rushed toward Hangar 3, wiping sweat from his forehead as he ran.
"Jesus Christ, I had no idea ground crew work could be this exhausting."
The moment he stepped into the hangar and saw the F-16, his fatigue vanished.
He let out an excited whistle, pulled out a large flashlight, and immediately began inspecting it.
"Wow. Baby, you're looking good."
"The left landing gear hydraulic lock has a small issue, there are a few dents on the skin, and the engine blades need cleaning, but overall it's in better shape than I expected."
He spoke rapidly as he worked.
"Get me the tools. I can fix this."
Everything moved forward with urgency, but in perfect order.
Calista stood between the two massive KC-135s, looking up at the steel giants that would soon belong to her, her chest filled with uncontrollable excitement.
Leah walked over and handed her a bottle of water.
"Things are going pretty smoothly."
"Yeah." Calista took a sip, her smile impossible to hold back. "Once we fly these back, we'll have wings."
In the distance, the horde near the barracks seemed drawn by the constant noise. They were starting to move this way, though still far off.
"Bossie, Jenson, the horde near the barracks is shifting. Keep a close watch," Calista said over the radio.
"Copy. They're gathering slowly, not very fast yet. Estimated time to reach you is at least twenty minutes."
"Pick up the pace. Team B, we don't have much time," Calista urged.
"Roger. KC-135 refueling is at eighty percent."
"C-130 refueling in progress."
"F-16 landing gear hydraulic issue fixed. I'm checking the electrical systems now."
Victory was within reach, but danger was closing in.
Ten minutes later.
The two tankers and the Hercules transport had been refueled enough. Their APUs hummed steadily, the massive bodies like sleeping beasts about to awaken.
The three pilots were running final preflight checks. Everything was going smoothly.
Then bad news came from Hangar 3.
"The fighter's avionics has a main line chewed through by rats. Shit. I need time to reconnect it," Oliver said, his voice tight with frustration. "At least fifteen more minutes."
At the same moment, Jenson's warning came from the high ground.
"The horde from the barracks is moving in force. More than a hundred. They're speeding up. Estimated contact in five minutes."
"Fuck." Calista swore. "Team A, prepare to engage. Team B, move faster. Anyone who can fly, get ready for takeoff first."
"Copy."
"Understood."
Team A immediately tightened their defensive line, using the fuel truck and mobile power truck as cover. With Bossie and Jenson holding the high ground outside, every gun was aimed toward the incoming horde.
Turner and Wells quickly picked their firing positions.
Turner braced his machine gun on the hood of the mobile power truck.
Wells climbed onto the roof of the fuel truck and set up his heavier machine gun. The tripod slammed down onto the metal roof with a loud clang.
The RPG-7 launcher sat right at his feet, within easy reach.
"Hold steady. Wait until they're in effective range," Leah said, her voice calm to the point of being chilling.
In the distance, a dense black mass of walkers surged forward, far more than the scattered stragglers from before.
"Fire."
As the front line crossed into two hundred meters, Leah gave the order.
"Come on!" Turner roared as he pulled the trigger.
"Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!"
Shell casings poured out like a waterfall. The dense stream of bullets instantly tore into the leading walkers, ripping through seven or eight of them and dropping them in a spray of blood.
Almost at the same time, Wells opened up.
"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"
His heavy rounds hit like a scythe, shredding rotting bodies and punching straight through into those behind them.
The combined firepower of the two machine guns was overwhelming.
Every shot from Leah, Mike, and Carver ended with a walker's head bursting apart.
Calista fired steadily as well, her accuracy improving rapidly. She was landing headshots on most of her shots now.
The front ranks of the horde collapsed in an instant.
But the walkers behind showed no fear. They trampled over the fallen and kept charging forward.
There were too many.
"Damn it, too many. We can't cut them down fast enough," Wells shouted as he continued firing, his barrel already heating up.
"Grenades," Leah ordered.
Mike and Carver immediately pulled out fragmentation grenades and hurled them into the densest part of the horde.
"Boom. Boom."
Two explosions tore through the crowd.
Shrapnel and shockwaves ripped apart clusters of walkers, limbs and flesh scattering in every direction.
But it still wasn't enough to stop the tide.
They were already within a hundred meters.
Their twisted faces and rotting bodies were clearly visible.
"Wells, hit them hard," Leah ordered sharply as she saw the horde bunching up.
"Been waiting for that."
Wells grinned, dropped his overheated machine gun, grabbed the RPG at his feet, and smoothly loaded a high explosive round.
He rose, braced the launcher on his shoulder, and took aim.
"Whoosh."
The rocket screamed through the air, trailing fire as it slammed straight into the center of the horde.
"Boom!"
A thunderous explosion erupted.
Far more powerful than the grenades, the blast tore through at least twenty or thirty walkers in an instant.
The shockwave knocked down even more behind them.
Limbs, flesh, and organs rained down across the ground.
That single shot nearly split the advancing horde in half.
"Haha! Have another taste of my RPG!"
Wells laughed wildly as he reloaded with practiced speed.
"Whoosh. Boom."
The second rocket detonated among the rear ranks.
Another large section of walkers was wiped out.
The devastating power of the two RPG shots completely shattered the horde's formation, throwing them into chaos.
...
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