Extreme germ phobia

Chapter 348 Hunting S-343 (Part 1)

Dongzhou, command center.

"Report!" The intelligence officer saluted and handed a document to Pan Rui, instinctively lowering his voice, "This is a statement just released by the Mi Palace, saying that the Apostles have hijacked a strategic missile nuclear submarine!"

Pan Rui frowned slightly, quickly finding the most crucial words between the lines. After reading them, he couldn't help but sneer: "So you're not even going to pretend anymore, are you? Burning newspapers at a grave, trying to fool the ghosts!"

He returned the document: "The information matches up, right?"

A few days ago, the Dongzhou received news that the Apostles might be making a big move recently, but it was unclear what kind of move it was. However, he never expected that the Apostles would be able to seize a nuclear submarine, and one that was equipped with strategic missiles.

What's the difference between this and launching a satellite?
"Yes, it matches up," the intelligence officer responded.

Pan Rui took a deep breath and pondered for a moment: "Closely monitor the submarine's movements and report any discoveries immediately."

"Yes, sir!" The staff officer saluted and turned to leave.

Pan Rui rubbed his temples, which were throbbing slightly, and sighed softly.

Since the outbreak of the pandemic, the situation here has become increasingly complicated, but the troubles have been concentrated on the US side, which is relatively easier to resolve.

His approach was simple: no matter what problems arose, he would communicate with Miyako immediately. As long as he reached an agreement with Miyako, other problems would be easy to solve.

But recently the situation has changed somewhat, and troubles have gradually spread from Old Mi to the surrounding areas, including South America and Canada, making him feel a sense of urgency and helplessness.

"This is really a headache!" he muttered to himself.

After the order was passed on, nothing seemed amiss on the surface of the US fleet, but in reality, they were on high alert and had already quietly begun operations, exhausting all means to find the whereabouts of S-343.

However, this is, after all, America, and the vast majority of our forces are engaged in rescue work, leaving very limited resources available.

The next morning, the intelligence officer appeared before Pan Rui again, handing him another document: "Report: Around midnight, the target briefly appeared on the central coast of Midong, and its current whereabouts are unknown. Analysis suggests that it is more likely to have headed east."

Pan Rui took the document, glanced at it, and nodded in agreement.

Leaving aside how the submarine ended up in the hands of the Apostles, the key point is that the Apostles have always been committed to spreading phantom lung bacteria around the world, and after obtaining the submarine, they will inevitably make use of it.

While the possibility of traveling west cannot be ruled out, the chances are extremely small.

Because the canal is not deep enough for submarines to pass, S-343 only has two routes to take.

One option is to go north, passing under the Arctic ice cap; the other is to go south, detouring around Cape Horn.

The S-343 has an endurance of about 45 days. At a speed of 20 knots, it could theoretically circle the Earth once, making it fully capable of doing so.

However, this would take too long and increase the chances of being exposed. The journey to the Western Pacific would be nearly 30,000 kilometers, and even if they only broke through the blockade, the journey would still be 15,000 kilometers.

In contrast, getting to Europe is much easier, with a straight-line distance of less than 6,000 kilometers.

At a cruising speed of 20 knots per hour, it would only take a week to arrive; taking other necessary factors into account, it would take at most half a month.

Pan Rui pondered for a moment, then handed the document back: "Inform our European allies of this intelligence; they will certainly be very interested."

The staff officer blinked, his lips twitching as he tried to suppress the urge to laugh: "Yes, sir!"

Pan Rui narrowed his eyes and said meaningfully, "The show is about to begin!"

An hour ago, somewhere on the eastern coast of the United States.

A van drove onto the moonlit beach and slowly came to a stop in the designated spot.

Wilson rolled down the car window, took out his cigarette case, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag. The evening breeze blowing in from outside immediately dispersed the smoke inside the car.

Harry's eyes lit up, he sniffed greedily, but still couldn't resist, so he reached out again, begging, "Give me one!"

Wilson put away the cigarette pack, showing no intention of giving it to him.

Harry was furious and about to rant when Wilson shoved his own cigarette into Harry's mouth: "Just make do with this."

Harry's anger turned to joy. He took a satisfying drag, closed his eyes in enjoyment, and said, "This is the taste! Oh my god, I've missed it so much... Where did you get this cigarette?"

In the epidemic area, the dollar was only slightly better than waste paper; the real hard currency was weapons, cigarettes, food, and gold.

The higher the ranking, the higher the actual value, but in the eyes of many Americans, cigarettes are the number one hard currency.

This ranking, while somewhat disrespectful to gold, is a consensus among all survivors of the epidemic.

Wilson snatched the cigarette back and took another puff: "The priest gave it to me."

Harry was shocked: "He's giving you this?" "He said it's my payment for tonight."

Harry was even more surprised: "They're paying you? It's just delivering the spores, isn't it?"

Wilson shrugged: "Who knows!"

"The priest didn't say what we came here for... Hey, hey, smoke less, give me another puff, give me another puff!"

Wilson rolled his eyes and handed the remaining grasshopper head to Harry: "They only said to meet here, but didn't say what exactly they were going to do."

"I see!" Harry finished his cigarette in one puff, smacking his lips with a lingering satisfaction. "Then let's wait a little longer."

Wilson glanced at his watch; there were only a few minutes left until the agreed time. He looked around but didn't see any infected people. However, just to be on the safe side, he didn't leave the truck.

Soon after, the time came, but no one came to meet them, which made the two of them a little suspicious.

Just then, a jet-black submarine slowly rose from beneath the sea, its massive hull floating silently on the moonlit surface, like a colossal beast from ancient times.

Although he could only make out the outline, Wilson recognized what it was at a glance and was immediately stunned.

Where did this submarine come from?

On the submarine, the hatch opened, and several dark figures emerged. Frank turned on his flashlight and waved it three times to the left and three times to the right at the sea.

Wilson was stunned. Wasn't this the secret code the priest had mentioned?
He frantically pulled out his lighter, and after several attempts, he managed to light a small flame, first turning it three times to the right, then three times to the left in response.

A moment later, an inflatable boat docked. Frank, without a word of preamble, asked directly, "Where's the stuff?"

Wilson swallowed hard. "In the car!"

Frank gestured to the sailors behind him, who immediately rushed forward and unloaded several boxes from the truck.

Frank frowned: "So little?"

“The time was too short,” Wilson explained.

Frank was unhappy, but he didn't say anything more: "Move everything back!"

The sailors immediately carried the box onto the small boat, and Frank tapped his forehead with his fingertip: "Thank you very much for your help!"

Wilson quickly responded, "It's our honor."

Frank said goodbye and turned to leave, but stopped abruptly after taking only two steps: "By the way, what are your names?"

“Wilson, my name is Wilson!” Wilson replied immediately. “His name is Harry.”

Frank forced a smile: "Wilson, Harry, okay, I'll remember you."

Harry's face lit up instantly: "Wow, that's great..."

boom--

A gunshot rang out, and Harry was shot in the forehead, falling to the ground with his eyes wide open in death.

Wilson was terrified and instinctively fell to the ground.

Frank fired repeatedly, but he dodged them all by rolling and crawling.

Frank grew impatient and shouted a command. Several sailors rushed forward with rifles, firing a barrage of shots that left Wilson with more than a dozen bloody holes.

Wilson stared with resentment as he watched the sailors board the inflatable boat, his mind filled with only one thought: Why?
As the inflatable boat pulled away from the shore, Frank holstered his gun and slowly exhaled.

They were just two apostles making a living in the epidemic area, and it wouldn't be a big deal to keep them alive. However, he was carrying out a secret operation, and secrecy was the top priority. No one could know that the submarine had been here, let alone its final destination.

Therefore, death is the best and only destination for these two people.

After boarding the submarine, Frank faced the beach and said quietly: Thank you for your contributions to Milijian!

After entering the submarine and closing the doors, S-343 submerged and quietly disappeared beneath the dark seawater.

On the beach, the gunshots attracted a group of infected people who appeared out of nowhere. Following the scent of blood, they found two fresh corpses.

When dawn broke, Wilson and Harry's bodies were no longer found on the beach, but two more remains torn apart by the infected were discovered.

(End of this chapter)