As midnight approaches, the lights of thousands of homes are on.

The military miniature drone hovering in the sky immediately discovered something wrong. The city came alive in the picture extracted by their electronic camera.

The tall buildings hidden in the night turned into ants holes, and a crowd of people like ants suddenly surged out from it and scattered to the earth.

The armed helicopter hurriedly pointed the searchlight at the ground, and the white light pierced the night sky and illuminated everything.

The sound of kicking and footsteps was connected, which was more solemn and calm than the noisy and bustling city, and more free and passionate than the military parade.

People, people wearing V-shaped Vendetta uniforms, are tall or short, fat or thin, old or young and young, continue to flow forward along the streets, just like red plasma flowing in the slender blood vessels.

Constantine and Harry Potter, two British people, were swept by their compatriots and were soon diluted into the crowd.

The officer on the armed helicopter watched all this happen in a daze. He stared at the streets covered in black, and a heartfelt fear grabbed his heart.

It is true that this officer, whose name is not even mentioned, can pour missiles into the bunkers and towers on the Middle East battlefield, allowing machine guns to penetrate the bodies of people fleeing in panic, but the Middle East and London are different after all.

London is a civilized city, and civilized people are far more striking than the savages of violence.

The officer realized something, shook his numb arms, took off the intercom from the cabin wall, and shouted: "This is Air Patrol No. B-5, and there are people here who violated the curfew bill. They are moving towards Trafalgar Square, repeating, they are moving towards Trafalgar Square."

Trafalgar Square is the most famous square in London, England. The south end of the square is Kings Cross Street, and further south is Whitehall, which is the British government office area, which is a strategic location.

The noisy electromagnetic waves, the noisy gunshots, and the louder "Internationale" sound came from the intercom. The officer listened to him, but heard the roar of the British general: "How many people? How many of them are there?"

The officer swallowed, looked at the thick black line of thick black with the streets as spider webs below, and said with difficulty: "Many, general."

"Damn it!"

The general gritted his teeth and was about to say something, but the noise of the electromagnetic waves became even louder and completely drowns out the voices.

The helicopter co-pilot turned his head and said, "What should we do? Sir."

The officer's face was tense, and his struggle kept flowing on his face, "flying low."

"Sir, the crowd below will likely attack us."

The officer said firmly: "Then hover in a position where they cannot attack. When ensuring safety, fly as low as possible."

So the armed helicopter descended.

The stirring propeller blades drove the fierce wind and blew the dust on the ground. The officer picked up the horn and shouted to the lower body: "People, go home, I know you are dissatisfied, angry, and confused, but this kind of behavior that forces the British Empire government can do nothing except disrupt social order.

Go home, at least for tonight, don't have bloody conflicts."

No one responded, and the crowd was still moving forward.

A despair surged in the officer's heart. He picked up the trumpet in vain, tried hard to open his eyes in the storm, and continued to shout: "People, please believe me, go home, I know..."

He repeated what he had just said, but unfortunately it was still useless.

The police car patrolling ahead found something wrong. The police officers in uniform picked up the walkie-talkie and said something as soon as they saw the crowd.

Soon, armored vehicles drove over, and those solid and heavy vehicles were connected in a row, head-to-tail connection, trying to block the streets.

"They dare not come."

A sweaty London policeman sat in the driver's seat and pretended to be careless and said to the young partner in the passenger seat: "They dare not pass..."

His words were forced to be interrupted, and the crowd used his hands in black leather gloves to pull the edge of the vehicle's chassis.

Lift, shake, overturn.

The earth-shaking shock made the police in the police cars and the soldiers in the armored vehicles confused. They struggled to climb out of the driver's seat, carrying various guns in their hands.

"Stop, stop!"

As many as dozens of people, London police and soldiers held guns and stood in front of thousands of people.

Their police ranks and military ranks lost their threat at this moment, and together with the guns, they became some kind of funny props.

"Stop!!"

A London policeman shouted at the top of his lungs, shooting into the sky like a nerve, and the sound of "bang bang" echoed in the night sky.

The crowd ignored him and did not even slow down. They simply passed by him, allowing him to stand in a daze, letting him stand in place, letting his gun be released.

Trafalgar Square, arrived.

The troops that kept pouring ammunition at Leon stopped, turned their guns and headed towards the crowd.

The fully armed soldiers became nervous rarely in front of civilians who were ten times more than a hundred times their own number.

They pinched the guns, and the sweat from their palms moistened the trigger.

The erosion of the blood clan on the army is not high, at least at the level of grassroots soldiers. All they can do is to screen and mobilize some non-London soldiers to come to the Capitol.

The adjutant looked at the crowds coming from all directions from all directions and said with difficulty: "What should we do? General."

“…”

The general clenched his fists, and he felt that every inch of water in his throat duct was squeezed clean by the emotion called "Thunching and Tension".

"What should we do? General." The adjutant repeated the side.

The general said arduously: "...Click the command center to me."

The so-called command center is actually the British government cabinet group headed by Prime Minister Ross and Minister of Defense.

These senior officials were no longer at No. 10 Downing Street. Because of the urgency of the current situation, they stayed in a secret base far from Whitehall.

The general turned on the walkie-talkie and said quickly: "Prime Minister, this is the No. 1 outside, please issue an order."

The other party was silent. The people here had passed the National Gallery of the British Empire and the "Fourth Base" used to place modern sculptures.

This square, built to commemorate General Nelson who died in the British-French War in 1805, has become so crowded that on one side are professional soldiers waiting for battle and on the other side are hundreds of millions of people.

The steps were loud and boiling, and the silent crowd easily lifted the steel fence, crossed the low cement walls entangled with barbed wire, and headed towards the Capitol.

What do they want? What do they do? Don’t they know that once the army makes up their minds, they can easily eliminate them, such as the "mobs"?

"General, please give orders!" the adjutant roared.

The general lowered his arms and looked at the crowd, his eyes a little confused.

The communication of the walkie-talkie became clear, and the messy and meaningless electromagnetic waves were sorted and translated through electronic components, and were transmitted to the general's ears in the form of air shock.

"Open the fire."
Chapter completed!