Snapped back to reality by his sister's sharp words, Bran realized he was on duty. He went to report for his shift and learned there had been a special authorization, requiring a military truck to help with the transport. Pulling his fellow squad leader aside, he muttered, "Bro, what's the deal with my sis?"
It was rare to see such special treatment from military command.
His buddy chuckled, "Are you kidding me? You call her 'sis' so affectionately and you don't know her background?"
Bran wasn't embarrassed, just humble. "My sister's like a superstar, the kind I'm not even worthy to tie the shoelaces for."
He could befriend anyone if he wanted to, whether it was a pig or a dog, let alone a comrade-in-arms.
They had a good private relationship, and his friend didn't keep secrets. "She's the darling daughter of a top brass. Take good care of her."
Holy moly...
Bran nearly bit his tongue. Who could tell him when his sister had become such a big shot?
At this rate, tying her shoelaces wouldn't cut it. He'd have to lick her boots!
Like father, like daughter – she truly was his blood.
Once the handover was done, the on-duty crew continued unloading, figuring out how to get the Humvee off the fishing boat.
Accidentally, Bran's gaze met Stella's.
Ugh, he knew it. This guy was sly and calculating, those titanium dog eyes almost blinding.
After immense effort, the king of the post-apocalyptic world was finally unloaded.
Bran caressed the savage war machine and nearly drooled on the hood.
Oh boy, thinking about those three lost vehicles made his heart hurt so much he couldn't breathe!
The two didn't bother to linger. They took the fishing boat with a few soldiers to the submarine to continue unloading.
Another boatload of goods, a mishmash of supplies that almost overwhelmed the three military trucks. Even the Humvee was packed full.
Stella wasn't stingy, happily handing over five barrels of gas totaling about 800 liters as a rental and labor fee.
She tossed the keys of the post-apocalyptic king to Bran, "Can you drive us back?"
Bran, catching the keys, was stunned and then said excitedly, "Sis, brother-in-law, I guarantee to complete the mission and get you home safely."
The green light was given, and the registration of gas and ammunition went smoothly.
The Humvee led the way, followed by the three military trucks, drawing countless gasps of awe along the way.
Envy and jealousy filled the air.
Which big shot was this, dripping with wealth?
Even the generals' families weren't this well-off.
Bran's hands on the steering wheel were shaking with excitement. Driving this beast was pure joy, and its top-notch features were simply to die for. No ordinary bullets could harm it, let alone armor-piercing ones.
Blood rushed to his head.
How many years had it been since he'd driven such an awesome vehicle?
It felt like a throwback to the days before the disaster, to his life of glitz and glamour.
The drive was less than 20 kilometers and they arrived quickly.
The vehicle really stopped next to the general's house.
Stella hadn't expected Daniel to work so efficiently; in just a few days, the house was nearly complete.
A 2-meter-high wall surrounded the 100 square meter brick house, which was nearing completion. Without steel and concrete, they used color steel plates for the roof.
Rosie was preparing lunch for the workers when she heard the commotion and came out, delighted, "Brother, sister-in-law."
After unloading the goods from the three military trucks into the new house, the Humvee was decisively driven in, causing countless people to turn green with envy.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: 18 Floors Above the Apocalypse