Everyone in the British command understood what the U.S. meant by "support"—it was a veiled threat. They had already engaged in combat with the Decepticons, and if the Brits bombed the base now, they'd be bombing American soldiers as well. The message was clear: if you do it, face the consequences yourself.
Under normal circumstances, Prime Minister Richard would never have had the guts to give the order to launch a second strike. However, with a trump card like the space program at their disposal, the British leadership was determined to keep spaceship technology exclusive to their nation. Sacrificing a few American soldiers seemed like a reasonable price to pay.
In a private office at Downing Street, a high-ranking officer with stars adorning his chest received a firm nod from the Prime Minister. He promptly picked up the phone and gravely issued the command,
"Launch. I repeat—authorization granted. Target: the Sahara Desert."
The order sent shockwaves across the Atlantic. Within minutes, the U.S. received intelligence on the British air operation. Now, they were in a bind—not only did they have to deal with the raging Decepticons, but they also had to scramble planes to intercept British fighters.
Just as the British planes took off, the sound of urgent knocking echoed through the Prime Minister's office. His assistant burst in, visibly panicked.
"Sir! We've just received a call from the London Space Center—William Devonshire is on the line. He says... he says..."
"Calm down," Richard said, hiding his own growing anxiety.
The assistant took a deep breath and continued,
"Devonshire said that if we fail to retake the base, it's not a problem. Before the Decepticons can penetrate the lowest level, the entire base will automatically self-destruct."
"Thank God," Richard sighed in relief, and the rest of the officials in the room visibly relaxed.
But then the assistant added nervously,
"However, he also mentioned... that the base was originally designed for producing... red mercury. If it detonates, the explosion might..."
"What?!"
"Red mercury... nuclear?"
Richard shot up from his seat.
"That madman! Is he trying to start World War III?"
Pacing back and forth, Richard eventually slumped onto a couch in defeat. He exhaled deeply and muttered,
"Inform the Americans. Let them handle it."
Meanwhile, in the Sahara Desert, U.S. forces had already engaged the Decepticons. Fortunately, the base's automated defenses were far more formidable than the Decepticons had anticipated. After a prolonged assault, they had not only failed to breach the base but had also lost two key attackers.
The diminishing strength of the Decepticons allowed U.S. ground forces to hold their positions. However, as reinforcements poured in, the Decepticons shifted to a defensive posture. Despite their technological superiority, they knew they couldn't maintain control of the base against the growing human opposition.
After breaching the main server room and hastily downloading critical data, the Decepticons began their retreat.
The Americans, still wary of British warnings about red mercury, hesitated to pursue them. That moment of indecision almost cost their entire ground team.
As the Decepticons emerged from the base, they launched a brutal counterattack, decimating the helicopters circling above. Without air support, the lightly armed ground troops were overwhelmed.
Screams echoed across the battlefield as soldiers fell, but a timely arrival of four ground-attack jets turned the tide. A barrage of missiles crippled two Decepticons and forced the others into full retreat.
Despite their victory, the Americans had paid a heavy price—seven aircraft lost, over a hundred soldiers killed, and countless others wounded.
With such high casualties, there was no way the U.S. command or its defense contractors—desperate for access to spaceship technology—would allow the British to destroy the base.
Acting on their own agenda, a team of private military contractors employed by a major U.S. weapons manufacturer infiltrated the base. Twelve highly trained operatives, along with several engineers, descended into the facility.
As soon as the first operative reached the ground, an ominous warning echoed through the base:
"Warning: Intruders detected. Activating defense systems."
A series of mechanical screeches followed, sending a chill down the spine of the veteran mercenary.
"Damn it! That's the sound of auto-cannons!"
"Da-da-da-da-da!"
The unmistakable roar of a Gatling gun echoed through the cavernous space. The first operative was shredded within seconds, his body reduced to a bloody mess.
The gun paused momentarily before raising its barrel and targeting the others still descending from the ceiling. A hail of bullets ripped through their lines, killing several more.
"Shit! I thought the Decepticons had already taken out the defenses! Why are there still automated guns active?"
The truth was, the defenses had indeed been neutralized—until the Americans hesitated.
During the Decepticons' retreat, William had opened a portal to extract their corpses for research. Simultaneously, Sunday deployed dozens of reconnaissance drones to assess the damage to the base.
Once the initial report was complete, engineering robots were dispatched to replace the damaged Gatling guns on the surface. Had the American soldiers immediately secured the base, they might have dismantled the defenses before they were restored.
Instead, they chose to rest and regroup, giving William's robots ample time to repair critical systems. The reactivated defenses included hidden explosives and automated turrets scattered throughout the base's upper levels.
By the time the Americans resumed their assault, the odds were stacked heavily against them.
From Sunday's spider drones, William observed the situation with mild amusement. "They're waiting for more equipment? They don't realize the longer they wait, the harder this will get."
Though the repaired defenses weren't as robust as before, they were more than enough to repel human intruders. With several dozen Gatling turrets lying in ambush, any attempt to storm the base would result in a massacre.
For William, the base itself had already served its purpose. Sensitive technology had either been teleported away or destroyed, and the stolen data had been intentionally leaked to the Decepticons.
Now, it was time to teach the Americans a harsh lesson: Without real skills, even being a bandit is impossible these days.
(End of Chapter)
[Get +20 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Mutter"]
[Every 50 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]