North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 287 The Fall of the White House
"Fire! Launch!"

On the White House grounds, the National Guard commander, who was originally in charge of suppressing the protests, roared at his men.

In an instant, more than a dozen anti-aircraft missiles shot into the sky, trailing blinding plumes of flame!

But their trajectories twisted strangely in mid-air, and they eventually collided, creating a fireworks display in broad daylight.

"Sir!" a subordinate urgently explained, looking at the radar, "This fighter jet is equipped with a signal jamming system we've never seen before. The radar lock signal is intermittent. And what's most absurd is that even the heat source tracking is erratic. Unless we find an opportunity to manually calibrate it, we simply can't hit it!"

"Manual calibration."

The commander frowned as he stared at the aircraft in the sky, which was barely visible except for the occasional distorted outline of its shape caused by the air turbulence generated by its high-speed maneuvers.

What the hell kind of fighter jet is this?!
Not only is it completely undetectable by radar systems, but it's also covered in optical camouflage, making it impossible for the naked eye to spot it at high speeds.

Manually calibrating a missile attack is utterly a pipe dream!

Go back a few minutes.

After getting into a heated argument with the rioters, the guards responsible for suppressing the demonstrations "accidentally" shot and killed many of the protesters.

Therefore, even though the protests have been suppressed, they still dare not leave.

After all, the orders from the White House haven't come yet, and they're worried that if they leave now, they'll be labeled with some kind of accusation later, which is why they haven't left yet.

Unexpectedly, just as they were all panicking, the radar system on the armored vehicle suddenly detected a faint signal of an aircraft intrusion.

And the location was right above their heads!

This is the White House!
Not to mention aircraft, even passenger planes from major airlines cannot fly overhead. Such an unusual situation could very well indicate an invasion by foreign enemies.

After all, the White House had recently been ravaged by Rorschach's fighter jets and poison gas bombs, so everyone below was on high alert, and the clicking of gun safety being released was constant.

In the end, they didn't need to guess anymore, because the aircraft suddenly appeared from the sky and fired machine gun bullets at the lawn in front of the White House as a demonstration!

Just then, orders arrived from the White House—

"Shoot down the target at all costs! Repeat, shoot it down immediately!!!"

"Saturation strike!"

The commander waved his hand and roared loudly.

Since we can't lock onto a target, let's turn the entire airspace into a death zone with barrage of bullets!

"Bang bang bang bang-!!!"

The armored vehicle gunner roared and pulled the trigger, unleashing armor-piercing rounds from the 30mm cannon into the air, which appeared somewhat distorted to the naked eye!

"Boom! Boom! Boom!!!"

Ground troops also launched a new round of firepower.

High-explosive shells, armor-piercing shells, and proximity-fused shells intertwined in the air, forming a bright net, all in an attempt to capture that unseen fighter jet.

"In three seconds, four 'poison stings' will surround you from the 11 o'clock position. It is recommended to roll to avoid them."

"OK."

The fighter jet suddenly tilted to the side, and the G-force (a unit of force that can be applied when moving at high speed) slammed Rorschach hard into his seat.

Almost at the same second, four anti-aircraft missiles swept past his original position, one of which was so close that the serial number on the missile body could be seen clearly.

Rorschach jerked the control stick up, and the fighter jet hurtled upwards at a near-vertical angle.

The four surface-to-air missiles collided violently below and exploded into a huge fireball!

"The optical camouflage failed due to high temperature, two seconds later."

"Okay, okay, don't say anything yet, OK?"

Rorschach complained to the machine that was directing him in battle through his earpiece, "I don't like having someone telling me how to fight while I'm fighting."

"Based on your service record and experience over the past few years, Rorschach, it can be preliminarily determined that you do not have proficient fighter jet piloting experience, therefore..."

"Ding--"

Luo Xia immediately turned off his headphones, too lazy to listen to the machine's instructions anymore.

Looking out the window at the dense hail of bullets, he grinned excitedly.

[Machine] is right. He served as a paratrooper and flew helicopters frequently, but he never actually touched a fighter jet.

But this super AI is unaware of the existence of the [Eye of Judgment] system. You should know that it now possesses the skill of the All-Round Vehicle Master!

He has long since broken through the physical limitations of vehicle control, achieving true "human-machine integration." He can even skillfully control a space capsule, let alone a fighter jet!
Rorschach suddenly activated the full thrust vectoring nozzles, and the fighter jet abruptly turned back in a "J-turn" that defied the laws of physics, its belly almost grazing the top of the ground artillery fire.

"It's my turn. I hope you won't be so scared that you start crying."

Rorschach smirked, pressed the weapon unlock button, and the electromagnetic cannon under the wing began charging, blue light gathering at the muzzle—

call out--! ! !
A blinding blue-white beam of light descended from the sky and precisely pierced through the turret of an armored vehicle!
The plasma explosion caused by the high-speed projectile blew the ten-ton turret into the air, and the debris crashed into the convoy behind, triggering a chain reaction of explosions.

"Electromagnetic railgun?! Holy crap? Does the military have fighter jets equipped with electromagnetic railguns?!"

Commander NG was stunned. This was the first time he had ever seen such a powerful electromagnetic weapon, especially one installed on a fighter jet!

Panic instantly spread.

Rorschach piloted his fighter jet, and each appearance was accompanied by the destruction of an armored vehicle.

Missiles can't catch it, machine guns can't touch it, and every attack it makes is as precise as a surgical operation.

"Spread out! Spread out! Don't crowd together!"

No sooner had the commander finished speaking than his command vehicle was pierced through the engine by an electromagnetic cannon, and the secondary explosion caused by the fuel leak turned half the street into a sea of ​​fire!
Behind this raging inferno lies America's highest authority—the White House!
"Okay, game over."

Rorschach had had his fill of playing around. He swiped his finger across the control panel, and the bomb bay at the bottom of the fighter jet opened.

A strangely shaped cylindrical projectile fell to the ground and suddenly disintegrated a hundred meters above the ground. There was no fire or shock wave, only a cloud of silvery-gray mist spreading silently.

Nanobombs.

Rorschach's view: The Cobra is the greatest weapon of war!
On the ground, 30-millimeter-thick composite armor is dissolving at a visible rate.

It wasn't melting, it wasn't corrosion, but rather, as if it were being gnawed away by millions of invisible ants, the entire piece of armor collapsed like grains of sand.

Even more frightening is that the silvery-gray "mist" is multiplying wildly through the contact points, spreading like a plague to other parts of the vehicle.

With the disappearance of hundreds of armored vehicles and weapons, the elite National Guard troops stationed in Washington, D.C., have completely lost their ability to defend the White House!
--------

Inside the White House.

After realizing that neither the National Guard nor the White House's own air defense system could stop the fighter jet, everyone in the Oval Office fell into despair.

Presidential Secret Service agent Michael Banning urged OBM to take refuge in the bunker as soon as possible.

Last time, because they arrived at the bunker a few seconds late, dozens of high-ranking officials were killed by poison gas, including cabinet bigwigs like the Minister of Finance. If such an accident happens again this time, these special agents can forget about working and can resign directly.

However, OBM stood motionless by the window, his eyes fixed on the swaggering fighter jets overhead: "Those coming are probably Spectre, no, it's probably Rorschach himself! Fuck! Do these bastards think the White House is a public toilet? Coming and going as they please?!" "This isn't the time to worry about that!" Michael grabbed the president's arm. "As long as you get out safely, we can upgrade the entire air defense system in Washington afterwards!"

"afterwards?"

OBM suddenly gave a bitter smile. "Michael, do you think I'll still be sitting in this chair after today?"

Michael hesitated, then lowered his head in silence.

At this moment, major television stations across the United States are overwhelmingly condemning the president, and some members of Congress have formally submitted motions to initiate impeachment proceedings.

Public opinion is boiling over, and the media is in uproar. Today may very well be the last day for this president in the White House.

"I don't care about any of that!" Michael suddenly raised his voice. "As long as you are president, my duty is to protect your safety!"

After saying that, he grabbed OBM and started to leave without saying another word.

Underwood followed silently.

Although Rorschach had said he would support him to take over, the other party was, after all, a capricious terrorist, and who knew if he might change his mind at the last minute.

For now, it's best to hide in the bunker. If we can get through today, the situation will become clearer.

However, he had only taken a few steps when he heard OBM's sinister voice: "Frank, I heard you and Rorschach are quite close. Now that he's coming, aren't you going to catch up with your old friend?"

Underwood froze, then shouted angrily, "Barack! What do you mean by that?!"

"What do you mean?" OBM sneered, suddenly snatching the sidearm from the special agent beside him!
"boom!"

A gunshot rang out, and the bullet pierced Underwood's chest with pinpoint accuracy!

Blood splattered everywhere. The veteran politician stared wide-eyed in disbelief, then staggered and collapsed into a pool of blood.

OBM tossed the still-smoking pistol to the stunned Michael and coldly ordered: "Announce to the public that terrorist Rorschach Butcher has infiltrated the White House and attempted to assassinate Secretary of State Underwood!"

Watching the president's resolute departure, Michael swallowed hard and ultimately escorted him to the bunker without saying a word.

Darkness, exhaustion, suffocating despair, and excruciating pain.

This is the whole world that Underwood can experience right now.

He felt a gruesome bloody hole in his chest, and every breath he took brought with it blood foam, a burning, searing pain.

He was certain he was about to die, but what he found most unacceptable was that he would die at the hands of OBM, a man he had always looked down upon!

That damn Ni Ge is so ruthless.
On his deathbed, his wife's face did not appear in his mind, nor did he think of the power he had pursued all his life. He just stared intently at the desk that symbolized supreme power not far away.

Just one step away!
He can then sit at that table and rule this country!
But now.
"Dong dong."

Suddenly, the crisp sound of leather boots striking the marble floor broke the silence.

As Underwood lay dying, he heard a familiar voice in his ear:

"Tsk tsk, this shot went straight through your lung lobe and shattered your alveoli. Now you're drinking your own blood with every breath you take."

Rorschach looked down at the dying politician with great interest and shook his head, saying, "If it had been two centimeters to the left, it would have pierced your heart and killed you instantly. Only Jesus could have saved you."

Underwood's pupils suddenly contracted.

He understood Luo Xia's unspoken message, and with his last bit of strength, he propped himself up, his voice hoarse with blood mixed with saliva, "W-Can you save me?"

Rorschach did not answer, but instead strolled to the French windows.

The Oval Office boasts an exceptional view, with panoramic glass overlooking the majestic National Mall, offering unobstructed views of the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial.

But now, White House Avenue has become a battlefield.

Flames engulfed the wrecked armor, overturned military vehicles blocked the roads, and the mangled bodies of National Guard members were scattered everywhere.

Even the meticulously manicured lawn was now riddled with craters, and human remains were scattered on the scorched earth.

This white palace is experiencing the most tragic humiliation and destruction in more than two hundred years.

The one who started all of this is now sitting leisurely in the white house, coldly observing the purgatory he created.

"Someone once said that."

"Money is like a luxurious villa in Sarasota, which will decay in ten years; while power is like an ancient stone castle that can stand for a thousand years."

"But today, if I wanted to, I could turn this white palace, which symbolizes the pinnacle of global power, into ruins at any time."

"Hahaha"

Rorschach's wild laughter made the crystal chandelier tremble slightly, and even the dying Underwood struggled to open his eyes, staring intently at the figure standing against the light.

From a framed Chicago police officer to a terrorist who stormed the White House twice, this man brought America down in just one year.

"It's much easier to break into Washington than to get into Washington."

Rorschach's smile faded. He strolled over to Underwood, looking down at the once-powerful political veteran, and raised an eyebrow dismissively: "Seriously, you look quite disheveled. Want to take a picture?"

"help me"

Underwood's trembling fingers gripped his trouser leg, pleading like a drowning man clinging to driftwood.

"Hahaha! Don't worry, I'm a very sentimental person."

Rorschach pulled a metallic-looking nanobot container from his pocket and winked playfully at the dying man:

"Even though you're an old gay man who's always trying to kill me, strangely enough, I kind of admire you, you old bastard."

the other side.

OBM, hiding in the White House bunker (Presidential Emergency Operations Center, PEOC), stared blankly at the surveillance cameras outside, seemingly lost in thought.

The surveillance cameras in the corridor and the Oval Office suddenly stopped working, which wasn't surprising given Rorschach's usual style.

Strangely, the other party used to be just a rat hiding in the gutter, but now he is a terrorist openly opposing America. Why is he still hiding himself?
OBM couldn't understand it.

"That...president?"

Vice President Harry looked at him cautiously and asked, "Have you figured out a solution to the repression outside?"

Her eyes were filled with unease, but also with a hint of hidden anticipation and excitement.

As the second in line to the presidency, she would be the one to take over if OBM were impeached and removed from office!
She will then be America's first female president in history, an honor that will make her a legend!

OBM knew exactly what she was thinking; he was all too familiar with that look in her eyes.

When he stepped on Pellari's shoulders to enter the White House, he saw the same brilliance in the mirror.

He gave a cold smirk, about to say something, when a sickening metallic tearing sound suddenly rang out.

Everyone turned around in horror.

A few meters away, the composite alloy door was trembling violently, and some kind of high-frequency cutting tool was spitting out blinding sparks from the door gaps. The entire wall was groaning under the strain!
(End of this chapter)