The helicopters were approaching the base from the new defensive line that had been established to contain the infected.
In no time, guided missile attacks were launched, turning hundreds of thousands of infected into dust.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The Apache helicopters did the heavy lifting, keeping the base safe from the scattered hordes of infected.
Now that most of the infected had been pulverized, the soldiers moved out to eliminate the remaining ones.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Zz… Sir, what should we do about the escorted helicopter?"
"We'll let it go once we've evacuated. We're not killing anyone from another military base," said Alan, keeping his priorities crystal clear.
As far as he was concerned, no foreign military force was allowed to enter Texas to impose their laws. Survivors would be welcomed—but under no circumstances would they allow themselves to be attacked.
As the helicopters landed one by one, Claire was already outside and was the first to approach Stuart, who was issuing orders to his soldiers.
"You must be Stuart. I'm in charge of this base under orders from the commander of the Texas Army. Are you aware of the evacuation orders?" As a skilled woman, Claire knew exactly how to handle these types of conversations.
Stuart assessed the woman in front of him and asked, "What department are you from? I won't take orders from incompetents—but I'll let it slide since you were chosen by the commander."
"Like you, I was trained in combat tactics, and I also have insight that helps me better understand people's minds. These days, it doesn't matter what we used to do—what matters is what we're doing now." Claire stared coldly at the man, trying to read him further.
When the special forces soldiers heard Claire's words, they grinned at seeing Stuart caught off guard.
"My apologies. After everything that's happened—the bombing in the city and all—it has me on edge. Anyone giving me orders just rattles my nerves," Stuart said as he turned to watch the soldiers from the military helicopter being taken into custody by his men.
Claire looked at a Black man named Donald and asked, "Who are they?"
"They came out of nowhere and bombed a horde of infected. They've interfered with our distraction plans, so we'll keep them in custody for now," Stuart replied, turning his head to watch the helicopters being loaded with military-grade weapons—equipment that was nearly impossible to find nowadays.
The things Alan had managed to secure so far were incredible. The current plans alone were more than enough to bring hope to all survivors in Texas.
General Shelton had made the right decision in appointing Alan as acting commander.
What was being done now couldn't be ordered by just anyone—that's why good leadership was so important.
None of this was easy, especially since no one wanted to make mistakes in a situation like this, where so few truly understood what was happening.
"We'll prioritize resources for the most useful people. Those who aren't worth the energy will be left behind." At that moment, John arrived. He looked at Stuart, and the latter nodded in understanding, knowing exactly what those words meant.
…
At the other end of the provisional base, Alan was watching the evacuation take shape. He walked toward the area where the sick were gathered and found Talia attending to them.
"Doctor, we're beginning the evacuation," Alan said, stepping close enough to be heard, and then moved away.
Talia turned to her assistant and said, "Change this soldier's bandage. I'll be back in a second."
The woman, who had joined the medical team at the base, was surprised by those words.
She didn't quite understand, so she asked, "Are we prioritizing the sick?"
"No, we're not. If we have time, we'll fall back to the new defensive line. But knowing that hundreds of thousands of infected are surrounding us right now, we're evacuating essential personnel first."
The woman watched as Talia walked away and was left pondering what she had just heard. With no further answers, she began changing a soldier's bandage.
"Lately, I've been doing things I never thought possible. Luckily, I've survived every one of them." Alan, now in a room, was checking the wound he sustained when his head hit the side of the helicopter cabin during the turbulence.
Talia was surprised to see the wound and said, "Let me help you."
Upon hearing that, Alan lowered his hands, looked at Talia as she approached, and murmured, "Believe me, I'm doing everything I can to save as many lives as possible. Until now, FEDRA had civilians locked up in cells, just waiting to be killed. At least I've increased people's chances of survival here in Texas."
"How's the situation outside?" Talia shifted the topic.
"It's chaos. Believe me, if it weren't for the bombing that delayed the infected, this base would already be overrun." Alan stepped away once Talia had finished treating the wound on his head.
Talia knew everything had improved once Alan took control of the Texas armed forces. But what bothered her was how she could tell he was torturing himself on every mission he undertook.
If someone didn't take care of their own life, how could they claim to care about the quality of life of others?
When she first heard about what Alan had done to someone close to him, she knew that until he stopped sacrificing everything for his goals, she wouldn't believe in him fully.
But for now, there was no better option, so she said, "Some people won't be saved. Others will survive with rest and recovery."
Alan nodded and said, "If you can guarantee that none of them will die and become a burden on the resistance, then I'll get them out of this base."
These would be his last actions before leaving the place. At least until tomorrow morning, no personnel would be evacuated—only supplies.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to attend to some soldiers who unexpectedly arrived from another base," Alan said before heading to the cells that had only recently held people outside the infection-free barriers.