Chapter 300: Hobbs's Touching Moment of Genius
The bearded operative's head was originally a perfect oval, but in the blink of an eye, Toretto used a wrench to flatten it into a perfect square. That repair skill...
Damn, Ron would call Toretto the second-best repairman in the world, because Ron himself was number one. Compared to Toretto, he was better at "fixing" people. Not to mention smashing a head into a square—even a hexagon, Ron could reshape it for you.
However, even if he wanted to demonstrate now, it would be pointless, because he lacked the necessary equipment. Under the fierce assault of Ron's exosuit, the terrorists finally lost their nerve and scattered in all directions.
Or perhaps they went back to find weapons capable of countering Ron's suit. Ron didn't believe that a terrorist organization capable of seizing such a high-level classified facility from the Russian military could be defeated so easily.
As it turned out, he was right. Ron's sensors detected a massive signature approaching; if his guess was correct, it should be a tank.
"Ramsey, how much longer do you need?" Ron was getting anxious and started pushing. "If we don't wrap this up, they'll bring in armor, and I don't want to be fighting an entire tank platoon by myself."
Tanks have always been called the kings of ground warfare, largely because they're incredibly tough and difficult to destroy. And this wasn't just one; judging from the sensors, there were at least four—a full platoon by US military standards.
This wasn't the hastily assembled force Owen had last time. These guys were likely professionally trained tank crews. Even Ron's suit, no matter how tough, wasn't tough enough to withstand tank rounds.
"Give me ten more minutes! I can regain control of the sub in no time."
Ten minutes? The suit's remaining battery was only enough for eight minutes. Give you ten more minutes? You might as well come collect my body!
Ron rolled his eyes, pinning his hopes on Hobbs's team. "Hobbs, how's it going on your end?"
"Great... thud... we've breached the submarine... thud thud... searching for the control chip. Once we... crack... find the chip and yank it out, we're golden."
The sounds from Hobbs's end were even more chaotic—a mix of voices, gunfire, and the sound of fists hitting flesh. Especially that last crack—Ron clearly heard someone's bone break.
Of course, it couldn't be Hobbs's bone that snapped; Ron could only silently mourn for the poor terrorist.
"Finding the chip? You're already in the control room?"
"That's right, but there are too many instruments here, too complicated. Tej doesn't even know how to extract that damn thing! Shit!"
Hobbs decked another terrorist, blocking the doorway like an angry steel statue. The terrorists, bound by orders from command and afraid of damaging the submarine's systems, hesitated to open fire.
It was like a bad kung fu movie—they came at him one at a time, turning a perfectly good firefight into something as exciting and entertaining as a UFC cage match.
Of course, "exciting" is relative. If you're mainly watching one-sided carnage, it's absolutely spectacular. Hobbs always managed to take down any challenger who dared step up with a new move.
"Wait! Who told you to retrieve the chip? What the hell do we need that thing for?" Ron was stunned by Hobbs's sudden brain fart.
"Did you bring any grenades? Toss a few grenades on the control panel, blow up the entire bridge, and even if Cipher crawls over through the ethernet cable, she won't be able to control that submarine!"
"Oh yeah, I guess that works?" Hobbs rubbed his bald head, suddenly enlightened.
"Then get on it! I can't talk anymore, I've got incoming." Ron quickly cut the comms, because the vibrations on his sensors were getting closer. The first tank had already rounded the corner of the wall, its massive cannon aimed in Ron's direction.
Ron stared at that dark barrel, his heart pounding in his chest. He could almost visualize the shell launching from the gun, blowing him and his suit to smithereens. He quickly pushed off the ground.
"BOOM!" The tank fired. The moment the shell erupted from the barrel, it was already at Ron's feet, almost clipping his legs before slamming into the wall behind him. Ron barely dodged it.
But before Ron could even catch his breath, the second tank overtook the first, extending its cannon from behind. At the same time, the sensors showed two more tanks passing behind the building next to Ron, rapidly flanking him.
Damn it! These terrorists actually know combined arms tactics!
Meanwhile, Ron's exosuit had begun its descent.
Although the name was similar to that anime mech, Ron knew perfectly well this wasn't a Gundam; it was just a somewhat similar exoskeleton suit. Ron didn't believe it could withstand artillery fire like some giant robot.
As the second tank took aim, Ron seized the opportunity, suddenly firing his maneuvering thrusters. The suit, still airborne, was propelled in the opposite direction by the thrust.
Just as Ron changed trajectory, a shell flew past where he'd been, less than two feet away—another narrow escape.
However, Ron was certain this was the last close call; he'd already figured out how to break the deadlock.
The suit drove its blade forcefully into the opposite wall, then quickly shut off the vibration. The blade pierced the concrete as easily as cutting through paper and lodged firmly.
Using his combat knife as an anchor point, Ron gripped the handle with both hands, swung powerfully, and launched himself upward. After a graceful flip, he pulled himself onto the roof of the three-story building.
Tank turrets have limited firing arcs, primarily designed for ground targets, so their upward elevation angle isn't very high—especially for older Soviet-era tanks used by terrorists, where the maximum elevation is only about 45 degrees.
On the rooftop, Ron was practically untouchable. All he had to do was take out the four tanks one by one and he could safely extract.
"BOOM!" A deafening explosion came through Ron's comms, followed by Hobbs's triumphant voice. "Ron, it worked just like you said! After I blew the control room, the sub really stopped! Mission accomplished!"
"Good. Now take your men to the command center to meet up with Ramsey and the others, then begin exfil. Arthur will rendezvous with you."
"Extract? Wait, what about you?"
"I got shot at twice in a row—of course I have to return the favor! Otherwise, how am I supposed to maintain my reputation!" Ron growled angrily. "Hank, blow their tracks!"
(End of Chapter)
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