Colonel Gibson's guess was right. His electronic watch was indeed broken.
And it wasn't just his electronic watch that was broken …
Night gradually fell, and the entire base gradually darkened.
Sergeant Duke carried his rifle, exchanged positions with the patrolling soldiers, and shouted at the sentry on duty on the sentry tower.
"What happened? Why don't you turn on the lights? "
"I don't know … The power system seems to be out of order. I've already notified the maintenance team to come and fix it. Damn, is my walkie-talkie broken? I have to ask the logistics company to get me a new one. "
"Yours is broken, too?"
"What are you talking about … Wait, yours is broken, too?"
Sergeant Duke's expression gradually began to become solemn, and a drop of cold sweat oozed from his forehead.
He had begun to realize what might have happened, and he believed that the people at the headquarters must have realized what had happened as well.
However, when a soldier like him began to realize the seriousness of the problem, he didn't receive any notification …
It was probably too late.
At the same time, on the other side of the military base, on the runway in front of the hangar.
Sitting in the cabin of the F35 fighter, the UA pilot, who was preparing for an air strike mission, pressed the button on the dial, and a trace of confusion gradually appeared in his eyes.
"Strange."
The engine did not respond, and some of the instruments seemed to be broken as they froze in the middle of the dial.
"This is Gladiator-1, the aircraft ignition system is out of order, the mission is terminated …"
There was no response from the command tower.
The pilot took off his helmet and was about to open the cabin door, but his outstretched hand stopped in mid-air.
Looking up at the sky, his pupils gradually dilated, and his lips moved slightly, but only one name came out.
Rows of emerald green signal flares were reflected in his dilated pupils.
"God …"
…
The operation code name was "Fire Out", and it was directed at NATO's "Torch" operation.
In the mountains east of Bucaramanga, the 14th NATO Mechanical Battalion and the 27th Infantry Brigade of Colombia stationed on Highland 772 were mercilessly bombarded by Moro's division-level firepower.
Without any warning, only the tail flames in the sky announced the beginning of the bombardment.
The invincible 107 rockets created another legend on the Colombian battlefield. When the hurricane-like rocket rain fell on the NATO Coalition Force's position, apart from the raging dust and shrapnel, nothing else could be seen in the entire position.
"Dammit! How did they sneak in! Where the hell did our Sentinel go! "
Curled up in the foxhole, the commander of the 14th NATO Mechanical Battalion put his helmet on his head.
Not far away from him, an armored vehicle that had just driven out of the garage was pierced by a 107mm rocket before it could disperse. The rocket hit the ammunition rack, and the flames from the explosion soared into the sky, even blowing up the turret.
The flames of the armored vehicle's explosion were reflected in his pupils, and a trace of despair appeared on the battalion commander's face.
Until now, he had not seen any reinforcements, nor did he see any fighter jets whizzing over his head to harvest those arrogant rocket launchers.
What exactly happened?
…
What exactly happened?
The sentries stationed below the high ground were equally confused.
The walkie-talkie, night vision goggles, and even the red dot sight on the rifle were all scrapped. It was as if they had returned to the Stone Age overnight. When they heard the sound of rockets whistling through the air, the guerrillas began to punish them.
Just as the nearby support artillery launched a merciless bombardment on Highland 772, in a post four kilometers away from the high ground, a squad of NATO soldiers was besieged by a company of Moro forces.
The bullets hit the wall and peeled the cement chips from the steel frame.
Sergeant Charles reached out and pulled his wounded comrade back from the pool of blood. He took out his rifle from the bunker and fired back, but he was quickly forced back into the bunker by the heavy machine gun's firepower.
Another RPG flew over.
The house ten meters away was directly hit. The M249 light machine gun mounted on the window and the wall under it were directly pushed to the ground by the explosion. Another soldier fell. In less than five minutes, they had lost more than half of their men.
"This is Warrior-1, we are under attack! I repeat, we are under attack! Sh * t — "
There was no response from the hoarse roar, and there was only panic on Sergeant Charles' face.
The soldiers of the guerrillas could fight to the last man without fear of death, but for him from a first-world country, this was impossible.
In a panic, he cut open his clothes with a dagger and tore off more than half of his white shirt.
He tied the shirt to the butt of the gun, grabbed the muzzle, and raised it up. He shouted in broken Spanish.
"Surrender! Surrender! Cease fire! "
"What is that guy yelling about?" The Moro soldier asked the Colombian next to him.
"He said they surrendered and told us to cease fire." The FARC soldier could understand Spanish and had already lowered his gun.
The same scene happened at every post and firing point under Highland 772. Without reinforcements, support firepower, and even without hearing the command, almost no one could fight to the end.
It was not because the NATO Coalition Force was weak.
On the contrary, their combat power was very strong.
If they were not blindfolded, covered, and blocked, the guerrillas who left the cover of the tropical jungle would only be live targets for attack aircraft and support artillery.
However, there were not so many ifs on the battlefield.
The NATO Coalition Force, with its communication system paralyzed, had no way to call for artillery support or guide airstrikes.
The Moro and FARC infantry easily crossed the line of defense arranged by the Colombian government army and dragged out the soldiers trembling under the bombardment from the trenches, foxholes, and concrete fortifications.
Most of the armored vehicles were destroyed by Artifact 107.
But the remaining part was happily incorporated by the Moro volunteers into their own team.
Of course, what made the Moro soldiers the happiest was the captured captives.
The prisoners of war of the Colombian government forces were kicked to the FARC people, and the guests from afar were invited to the side to entertain them.
Faced with the black muzzle, the NATO soldiers handed over their tags in bewilderment and squatted against the wall with their hands on their heads.
They didn't know why these monkeys were so keen on these small pieces of metal. Were they going to take them back to play poker?
They also didn't know that their prices had been clearly written in the small notebook of the Xin officer.
How much was a dead person worth, how much was a living person, it was clearly written …
July 11, 2020. This was definitely the darkest day in Colombia in the 21st century.
Literal darkness.
Because of an EMP, the power system in the area from the Gulf Coast in northern Colombia to the central Andes was completely paralyzed. The damage rate of electronic equipment was as high as 50%. The more sophisticated the instrument, the more severe the damage. The direct economic loss exceeded 500 billion US dollars …
Jiang Chen said they would bear the consequences.
And now, they had already paid the price.
Just an hour after the EMP detonated, Celestial Trade issued a weather warning on its official website.
At five o 'clock in the afternoon on July 11, the Celestial City astronomical telescope observed a strong solar wind passing through. Please protect all electronic products such as mobile phones and computers …
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