The second lieutenant hung up after receiving his orders and looked around at the dozen or so soldiers who remained beside him.
Everyone had heard the orders.
Go to the nuclear blast zone.
No one spoke.
Less than three minutes had passed since the nuclear bomb went off. The second lieutenant knew how high the radiation levels in that area would be now.
No protective suit would make any difference.
He did not explain this, or he would have to carry out this suicide mission himself.
He turned and said:
"Leo, Parker. You two, go!"
The two men whose names he called were barely into their twenties.
One had red hair, a face full of freckles, and dry, peeling lips.
The other was tall and thin, wearing crooked glasses with dust covering the lenses.
They exchanged a hesitant glance, but after seeing the second lieutenant draw his pistol and chamber a round, they could only obey.
Someone brought over two NBC Protective Suits. They quickly pulled them on, grabbed a radiation detector, and climbed into an off-road vehicle.
The engine started, and the tires crunched over rubble on the road as they headed toward the blast zone.
Leo drove, while Parker sat in the passenger seat, clutching the detector nervously.
The sights outside the windows left neither of them in any mood to talk.
The once-bustling streets had become a true hell after being ravaged by the nuclear blast's shock wave.
Buildings resembled chewed gum, twisted, collapsed, and piled into absurd shapes.
Thick smoke and dust were everywhere.
Someone was crawling beside the road.
A middle-aged woman dragged an obviously broken leg, inching forward on her elbows and leaving a long trail of blood behind her.
Her mouth was open, shouting something, but with the windows closed, they could not