Chapter Eighteen: The Magnificent Fireworks of War

Thud!
Kyle sprinted at full speed with someone on his back, weaving between idling military vehicles and dashing toward the fenced perimeter at the edge of the base.

"After him! Don’t let him get away!"

Behind him, more than twenty German soldiers gave chase, their rifles blazing, bullets clattering off the metal bodies of the vehicles.

Thanks to the physical enhancement cards he had collected, Kyle was already tall and powerfully built. With the girl’s petite frame slung over his shoulders, it looked as if he were carrying a child’s backpack—her weight barely affected his movement.

Dodging another volley of bullets, Kyle crouched behind a jeep. At that moment, the girl on his back let out a soft groan; she was waking from her stupor.

“What... what’s happening?” As soon as she opened her eyes, she realized something was wrong. She was bound once again, as before, but this time her slender limbs were tied to a burly man, her arms and legs splayed, her chest and hips vulnerable, clinging to his back in a mortifying embrace like an octopus.

“You’re awake,” Kyle said, his breath ragged. The constant, high-stress combat had left him drenched in sweat, his uniform soaked through—so much so that, pressed together back-to-chest, they could feel each other’s body heat.

“What are we doing?” The girl, recognizing Kyle, blushed furiously and asked in a tiny voice.

“Running for our lives,” Kyle said, reaching instinctively for his left shoulder, where a hot, sticky liquid seeped through his uniform, turning his palm crimson.

“You’re hurt!” she exclaimed in shock.

“Just a scratch,” Kyle replied in a low voice. The wound must have been sustained earlier, when he’d dashed out from behind the vehicle, but his adrenaline had masked the pain.

“What do we do?” the girl whimpered, her voice trembling with tears as she pressed her hand to his injured shoulder to staunch the bleeding.

“Don’t worry. With my constitution—” Kyle began, but he broke off suddenly, diving to the side.

A split second later, a grenade exploded where they’d just been, blasting the rear half off the jeep and charring the ground black.

“They’re getting desperate,” Kyle deduced coolly. “They’re willing to destroy their own vehicles and supplies just to kill us.”

Despite his injury, his actions didn’t slow. With more agile bursts, he darted between vehicles, using them for cover as a torrent of bullets whistled past, pressing on toward the perimeter.

“What should we do?” The girl’s face was deathly pale; only now did she grasp how dire their situation was.

“Don’t worry. I promised I’d get you out, and I intend to keep my word.” Kyle glanced back, estimating the distance to Warehouse Two. Bullets zipped overhead, sparking off the vehicles around them.

Suddenly, Kyle laughed. “We’re far enough from the center of the base now.”

“You’re laughing at a time like this?” she protested, biting her lip in distress, her delicate hands clamped on his bloody shoulder—but despite her efforts, blood still oozed between her fingers.

“Have you ever seen fireworks?” Kyle asked unexpectedly.

“Fireworks?” she echoed, bewildered, as she watched him fish something from his pocket—a device resembling a remote control.

“These are the grandest fireworks of war,” Kyle said, pressing the button.

At that moment, outside Warehouse Two in the German base, a crowd of soldiers had gathered. The ground was littered with the dead—men, wasps, smoke grenades, rifles, helmets—testimony to the chaos. Many survivors slumped on the ground, defeated; they’d faced American troops without flinching, but the mysterious, deadly wasps had left them helpless.

Flamethrowers would have worked, but the battle was in the munition depot, so they dared not use them. Smoke grenades were their only defense, but the wasps attacked relentlessly, trading their lives for each sting.

“We’ve found Commander Leo’s body in the basement.”

“No sign of the intruder.”

Reports came in from soldiers emerging from the warehouse. Officers exchanged wary glances; the base had been infiltrated and devastated before they’d even realized it.

“Damn it. Increase the patrols—search every inch of the base!” the deputy commander ordered furiously.

Just then, a soldier burst from the warehouse in a panic. “Run! Get out! It’s rigged with—”

He never finished.

The remote detonator activated the timed bombs Kyle had planted earlier. They weren’t especially powerful, just enough to destroy the building.

But that building was the main ammunition depot.

Boom!

The initial blast was deafening, followed by a rapid cascade of explosions as the stockpiled munitions erupted. From his vantage at the edge of the base, Kyle saw a blinding fireball engulf the center of the compound, a shockwave of dust sweeping outward at terrifying speed.

Kyle ducked under a wrecked car with the girl just in time; the blast wave roared by, rattling their bones, shattering windows with flying debris.

When the dust settled, Kyle crawled out from beneath the ruined vehicle with the girl and looked back. The heart of the base had been razed—flames raged, turning the night sky blood red.

Grand fireworks, indeed, in the theater of war.

The German soldiers pursuing them turned, dumbstruck by the apocalyptic scene, faces frozen in disbelief. Some fell to their knees, wailing in despair.

“Now’s our chance. Let’s go.” Kyle, gasping, took a few steps forward with the girl on his back, but stumbled and nearly fell.

His strength was failing, systems shutting down, vision blurring.

“What’s wrong?” the girl asked anxiously. Given how much he’d bled since being shot, it was a miracle he was still standing.

“I’m fine,” Kyle bit his tongue, the pain sharpening his focus as he staggered toward the wire fence ten meters away.

“There they are!”

“Vengeance for our brothers! Don’t let them escape!”

The surviving German soldiers cursed and gave chase.

“If this goes on, they’ll catch us! Untie me—let me down. I’ll hold them off,” the girl said resolutely.

“Don’t be ridiculous. With that little body, you wouldn’t last half a second,” Kyle replied with a wry smile, weighing his options.

If it truly came down to life or death, he’d have to abandon her and use his forced stealth escape.

But was this truly a last stand?

He sighed. His physical condition was deteriorating rapidly. Without treatment, he might not survive.

“Then—” he began, but suddenly, a familiar group appeared ahead, making his eyes widen. “Wait—!”

“Avoid the first two—shoot the ones behind! Leave no survivors!” the black squad leader ordered coldly.

Gunfire erupted, carefully aimed to avoid Kyle and the girl, cutting down the pursuing Germans in moments.

“At last, you made it, Fury.” Relief washed over Kyle as he saw Fury’s face—he knew the mortal danger had passed.

“Leave the rest to us,” Fury said, stepping forward to support him, his dark face breaking into a broad, white-toothed grin.