Gate of Apocalypse

"Mr. President, this is--"

Open the door and there is a vast, almost auditorium-like meeting room.

In front of a small podium, a semicircle surrounds the nearly one hundred seats. At the back of the podium was a large LCD screen, on which was being shown a video recording of the monster attack on the city of Los Angeles.

The President sits in the center, head tilted up, legs crossed, looking at the screen. He is surrounded by the country's heavyweights, such as the Director of Central Intelligence, the Secretary of Homeland Security, the Secretary of Defense, and the Secretary of State.

It was the Secretary of Defense who had just asked the question.

"The White House Special Intelligence Unit!" The President glared impatiently at the Secretary of Defense, "You're going to find out who these important people are before you report back to me with all this unimportant information, aren't you?

"Of course ...... isn't!" The Secretary of Defense is standing right in front of the podium, shaking his head in quick succession, "It's just ...... these people seem a little too much ......"

"Isn't there room for one more here? If you think this room is too crowded, then it's important for me to take a closer look at where Area 51's construction funding allocations have gone over the years!" The President tugged at his tie with a look like he was about to eat someone: "Do I need to do that? Mr. Cotton?"

"Would these gentlemen ...... please take your seats." The Secretary of Defense immediately decided not to tangle with this mad dog of a President: "Allow me to continue the report of troop losses just now. 1st Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, 5th Marine Regiment, 7th Marine Regiment ......"

"All right! No need to read anymore! I can't remember the names of so many troops. Mike, get in next to me and get your men in the back!" The Secretary of Defense watched as Mr. President patted the Secretary of State next to him, and then pointed to himself: "You, make room for Mike! You, just tell me if it's a total annihilation!"

The Secretary of State got up with an embarrassed look on his face and gave the seat to the man in sunglasses named Mike. The latter sat right down, without even saying thank you.

These other men, on the other hand, sat neatly at the end of the room.

"I'm asking you a question, Mr. Cotton! Look here! Here!" The President waved his hand vigorously at the Secretary of Defense, "Tell me if it's a total wipeout!"

"Exactly ......" the Secretary of Defense could only answer the humiliating question through gritted teeth: "The total destruction was limited to ground forces, including the Army Air Forces.... ...the Air Force's strike and reconnaissance forces are still intact."

"Reason! Reason!" The President slapped the armrest of the chair next to him, "You told me when the meteorite fell on that damn town that all the damn alien monsters had been killed, and that the damn meteorite would soon be sent here for in-depth study, all under your damn control! And now you tell me that the United States of America has lost tens of thousands of its best soldiers?

"This ...... things have changed ......" the Secretary of Defense coughed awkwardly and forcefully twice: "We had a very optimistic situation on the front line! As you can see, the troops are steadily advancing towards the town, but a new source of infection has suddenly appeared in the town of ....... As you may know, the meteorite that fell in Greendale carried alien genes that infected the local population and turned them into alien monsters, but at the time they could only be spread by inflicting wounds. But now ......"

"What has become of it now!" Seeing the Secretary of Defense pause, the President knocked hard on the small table in front of him.

"Now, it appears to be airborne ......" the Secretary of Defense wiped his sweat, "including the helicopters on the ground attack mission, which were also infected ...... Here's a video recording from our troops in the field ......".

"Am I to understand-" the President's expression twisted, "that the entire original population of Los Angeles, as well as my elite troops, have now been infected and mutated into such monsters, and. Are their numbers still increasing?"

"From what has been reported on the scene before, the timing of the mutation after being infected varies with the individual's constitution, so there will be a sequence. Technically ......" the Defense Minister hesitated, "most people actually die from the mutant attack after others around them have mutated. So the absolute number ...... shouldn't be that high."

--Also, technically speaking, this is not your military, but the United States military.

Of course, he wasn't stupid enough to say such things to his face, but could only slander.

"Enough! It doesn't make any difference to us whether it's ten million or a million!" The President's disheveled yellow hair seemed to have become increasingly disheveled with anger, "So, the proposal, gentlemen, I want to hear the proposal now."

"This ......"

Several of the big men looked at each other, but none of them said anything right away.

"The state is paying your salaries, gentlemen! At a time like this, can't you even come up with a plan?" The President was like an angry lion, and his eyes kept sweeping over the faces of the bigwigs: "We are now at the critical juncture of the nation's survival, and if we are powerless to save it, then the disaster that is happening in Los Angeles will soon spread to the entire state of California, the entire West Coast, and even the entire United States of America.

"We were able to obtain a sample of some of the mutant debris from the site. Some preliminary studies and samples were also obtained from the meteorite at that time." The CIA director cleared his throat, "We have turned over the samples and information to medical authorities and a vaccine is under development ......"

"Vaccine?" The president puffed out his chest, "How soon can we develop it?"

"This ...... cannot be determined at this time." The CIA director laughed bitterly.

"So, you're going to make us wait for an unknown time for the vaccine to be completed, and then wait for us to produce enough servings to inject the entire U.S. population, and then recruit millions of soldiers to fight these monsters like we did in the last war?!" The President stared viciously at the CIA Director, "Why don't you go eat shit?"

"Our air force is not affected because of the altitude of the flight," The Secretary of Defense probed, "Take off all the fighters, whether they are bombers or fighters, attack with a lot of incendiary bombs, and then ......"

"And how long will it take to burn all those damn monsters?"

The Secretary of Defense didn't say any more.

In fact, everyone had a common answer in their hearts.

An obvious answer.

But that answer, no one dared to be the first to say it.

"Okay. Things have come to this point, and it seems we have no other choice!" The President stood up abruptly, breaking the silence with a stern expression: "Use the nukes and wipe all infected areas off the map!"

When the words were finally spoken, everyone breathed a sigh of relief inwardly.

"Map of the infected area!"

The President turned around and called out to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and soon an electronic map was displayed on the large screen in front of him.

"The red part is the infected area." The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff took out a laser pointer and slid it up and down the screen, "There are aerial reconnaissance records of infected organisms in the area west to Thousand Oaks, east to Banning, south to Long Beach, and north to Santa Clarita. As well as - this is our estimate of the number of nuclear bombs and impact points needed to cover the entire area."

As the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff spoke, the screen displayed eight blinking bright spots, evenly distributed in the red zone: "According to our calculations, eight W88 warheads with a yield of 475,000 tons equivalent should be sufficient to ensure the cleanup of the entire area."

"Should?" The President strode forward, shoved the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff out of the way, and gave him a hard stare: "If the English I learned as a child is correct, that doesn't seem like a word that should be in this context!

Gentlemen! We are now talking about the future of America, and indeed the future of humanity and the entire planet! It's only been less than ten days since the meteorite hit the ground, but it has already destroyed our largest city on the West Coast, and nearly 20 million American citizens!"

He copied a marker from the podium and crossed it vigorously on the screen as he spoke.

Although the screen was never designed for writing, no one opened their mouths to stop the president.

It was not until all the red areas had been covered with closely spaced crosses that the president gasped and slammed the marker down on the floor.

"Just follow this marker I've drawn! What I want now, is certainty, certainty and certainty! Even if the entire city we used to call Los Angeles is wiped off the map, not as ruins, but as an ocean, make sure that not one more of those damn alien cells survives! Is that clear! Answer me!"

On the screen, the crosses on the Rosemont Nature Preserve are drawn very closely. Only by this time, no one would be paying deliberate attention anymore.

"Understood, Mr. President!"

Everyone replied in unison.

At the same time, the president's team channel also heard the proud praise of the stiff dragon.

"Well done, Tomoyo. It's exactly like that vulgar businessman President, and no one will see the flaw. What a perfect decision to send you to an acting class."