"Boss, these people are all veterans," the security captain said in a low voice, "We specifically picked old people and women to rush in. As soon as we started, they would lie on the ground and shout to beat us, and then call the police to extort money."
Fu Haoran looked at the name of the police chief dancing on the screen and opened the answer button.
"Mr. Fu." The police sergeant on the other end of the phone said with obvious embarrassment and perfunctory tone, "FBI has sent a notice regarding the riot in the factory today."
"Oh? What did they say."
"They believed this was a legitimate and peaceful environmental protest without any illegal behavior, and refused to file a case against this incident."
The police chief cleared his throat, "My suggestion is that you'd better settle privately, compensate them for some medical expenses and mental damages, and put the matter under control. Otherwise, they will come again tomorrow, and it will be difficult for me to deal with it then."
Fu Haoran smiled.
"Peaceful protest?" He looked at Tom who was still humming on the ground. "They rushed into my factory, threw paint, blocked the production line, and destroyed private property. Is this called a peaceful protest?"
"Mr. Fu, you know, this is the current situation." The police chief's tone was a little harder.
"President Lanpu has just signed a new environmental protection bill. These environmental organizations are backed by White House. I advise you not to fight head-on. It is you who will suffer."
"I understand." Fu Haoran said lightly, "Thank you for the reminder, Sheriff."
Before the other party could say anything else, Fu Haoran hung up the phone.
Fu Haoran looked at the group of clowns in front of him with a sneer on his lips.
Law?
President's support?
It doesn't work here.
"Tychus, let everyone go."
"Tou? Since when did you become so easy to talk to?" Tychus asked with a surprised look on his face.
Fu Haoran did not answer, but looked up at the setting sun outside the window and said, "It will get dark soon. Is it normal for a traffic accident to happen on the highway?"
Tychus's eyes lit up, he showed his white teeth, and he laughed, "I understand, I understand! I promise to do it beautifully."
"Remember," Fu Haoran warned, "Don't let anything happen on our territory."
"Don't worry, I'm familiar with this kind of thing!" Tychus waved his hand.
That night, a bus full of "environmentalists" suddenly blew out a tire and rolled over on the highway.
Fortunately there were no casualties, but there were quite a few casualties.
This inconspicuous traffic accident only occupied a space the size of a block of tofu in the local news and did not attract the attention of the general public. However, many forces knew it well-this was the beginning of a war without smoke.
The next day, a bigger bomb hit the whole world.
Persia National TV station suddenly held an emergency press conference, and the Minister of Defense personally announced: Persia will install 68 new stealth fighters to fully replace the F-14 "Tomcat" fighters that have been in service for more than 40 years.
The press conference did not announce the specific model of the fighter jet, but only released a blurry test flight photo.
But intelligence agencies around the world recognized that familiar outline immediately.
Diamond-shaped nose, cambered twin vertical tails, and Galette air intake.
The aerodynamic layout of this pedal is almost exactly the same as that of Amerikan F-22"Raptors".
"Bang!"
In Oval Office, Lanpu punched the expensive mahogany desk, and the coffee cup jumped up with a shock, brown--
Colorful liquid spilled all over the table of confidential documents.
"68 planes! A total of 68 F-22s! They came to Persia right under your noses!" He pointed at the silent senior officials in front of him, spittle flying everywhere.
"That's Persia! The most anti-American Persia in the world! Can any of you tell me what the hell is going on?!"
The Secretary of Defense, Secretary of State, CIA Director, and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff looked at each other in confusion, and no one dared to speak first.
In the end, the CIA director stood up bravely and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. "Mr. President, we are watching Fu Haoran's every move 24 hours a day."
"He himself has never left United States's homeland, and all the ships under his name have never left the port. We have no evidence to prove that this transaction is related to him."
"No evidence?" Lanpu was shaking with anger, "Then tell me, did these planes fall from the sky?
Did it grow from the ground?!"
His roar could be heard clearly through the heavy oak door.
The chief of staff outside the door hesitated for a moment, then answered the call that had rang for the fifth time. He lowered his voice and smiled, "Your Highness, don't worry, we have never authorized any transaction - yes, these F-22s are not authorized by us - please calm down, planes alone are useless, without system support, their combat effectiveness will be greatly reduced - Okay, okay, we will definitely give you a satisfactory answer."
After finally hanging up the phone, the chief of staff breathed a long sigh of relief, his back already soaked with cold sweat.
Ever since the news came out that Persia announced the F-22 will be commissioned, the entire Middle East has been in a frenzy.
Those countries that have particularly bad relations with Persia are sleepless at night. Prime ministers and princes call the White House hotline one after another, demanding an explanation from the United States, otherwise they will reconsider their defense cooperation with United States.
In the office, Lanpu's anger has not yet finished burning.
"I need good news." He glanced at the group of silent senior officials in front of him, "Now, immediately, immediately. Otherwise, you will all pack up and get out!"
Lockheed Martin's global president Samuel·Hendricks quickly stood up, holding a technical report in his hand, "Mr. President, there is still good news."
"According to our disassembly research on the Warhammer Heavy Industries F-22 variant, although its stand-alone performance is slightly improved compared to our original version, it has a fatal weakness. It does not have a complete combat system support."
He pulled up a schematic diagram, pointed to the icon above and explained, "Modern air combat has never been a single-aircraft confrontation. Fighters are just the front end of the entire combat chain. Behind them, early warning aircraft are needed to provide long-range radar coverage, electronic warfare aircraft are required to suppress enemy air defenses, satellites provide navigation and communications, and data links connect all units into a whole."
"Without these, no matter how advanced a fighter aircraft is, it is just an isolated island. It is completely vulnerable to a complete combat system."
"Even if someone buys an F-22 fighter jet, it will not be able to exert half of its power without system support."
Lanpu's expression finally softened a little.
He understands this.
No matter how sharp a sword is, it cannot cut anyone in the hands of a blind man.
It's just that everyone forgot one thing.
What they can think of, how could Fu Haoran not think of it.
Pampas, Rio Grande Naval Air Station.
South Atlantic The salty and humid sea breeze wrapped in icy rain and whipped the mottled concrete on the runway.
The air was filled with a bitter smell of aviation kerosene, rust and sea water.
The radar antenna on the base tower rotates feebly, like an old man in his twilight years.
In the briefing room, the lights were dim.
More than 20 pilots, wearing washed-white flight suits, sat silently at a long table.
There is a hand-drawn combat map spread out on the table, with the location of Task Force Britain densely marked on it in red pen.
Hector Lieutenant Sanchez was sitting in the corner, unconsciously rubbing his pilot's license with his fingertips.
In the photo on the license, he is still a high-spirited young man.
But now, his face is full of exhaustion and despair.
Three days ago, China announced a comprehensive arms embargo on Pampas.
All paid Mirage 1 Kawakawa fighter spare parts and Exocet anti-ship missiles have been detained at the port.
Now, what the Pampas Air Force has available is only more than thirty A-4 "Skyhawk" attack aircraft produced in the 1950s, and a dozen "Dagger" fighter jets that don't even have radars.
What they faced was Royal Navy's most elite task force.
Two light aircraft carriers, more than forty "Sea Harrier FA.2" fighter jets, a dozen Destroyer equipped with "Sea Receptor" Anti-Aircraft Missile and frigates.
The one-way distance from the local airport to the Falklands War Zone is 620 kilometers.
When the Skyhawk attack aircraft is loaded with bombs, its combat radius is only 630 kilometers.
This means that when they fly over the war zone, they have less than ten minutes to drop bombs.
If you stay for one more second, you will never be able to fly back to the base.
No missiles, no radar, no air superiority.
All they could do was fly at low altitude over the sea, avoid the British radar, and then treat themselves as a human bomb at the moment of dropping the bomb.
"It would be great if we had Exocet missiles." The young pilot next to Hector whispered, with a hint of sobs in his voice, "Even if there are only ten of them, they can sink their aircraft carrier."
Hector said nothing.
He just looked at the Destroyer named "Sheffield" on the map, and his heart felt cold.
Using this kind of equipment to fight a modern fleet with aircraft carriers and third-generation fighter jets - this is not a war, it is a sacrifice.
Now they can only use Skyhawk, Dagger and other old-fashioned fighters for hand-to-hand combat.
In order to avoid the British radar, they had to fly at low altitude and sea skimming. After flying over the Britain formation, they took off and dived to drop conventional bombs.
In modern warfare, the ancient fighting methods of World War II are staged.
But facing the invading enemy, they had no choice.
You said that is a disputed island?
An island right at your doorstep, but belongs to a country more than 10,000 kilometers away?
Is this common sense?
This may be a losing outcome, but the pilots of Pampas decided to fight for the dignity of their motherland.
At the same time, on the other side.
Pampas An uninvited guest broke into the presidential conference room today.
President Leopoldo looked at the beautiful woman who appeared out of thin air in front of him, without any thought of admiration, and alarm bells rang in his heart.
The woman in front of her had dazzling long emerald hair, her skin was so pale that it was almost transparent, and her emerald eyes swept across the entire scene with a kind of indifference that overlooked all living beings.
"Who are you? How did you get in?"
Leopoldo The bodyguard next to him wanted to take out his gun, but in the next second, a nearly three-meter-long iron giant appeared out of thin air, picked up the bodyguards one by one, and "gently" placed them in the corner.
This sudden change frightened everyone.
"How are you thinking about the transaction?" the woman suddenly said.
Others felt baffled, but President Leopoldo and Air Force Commander General Jose Fernandez reacted.
"Are you from Warhammer Heavy Industries?!"
Lucifer did not admit or deny, but walked straight to the map, traced the position of the Britain task force with his fingertips, raised his eyebrows and asked, "How are you thinking about it? The enemy fleet has already blocked your door, what are you still hesitating about?"
Fernandez General gritted his teeth, with a painful look on his face. "70 million US dollars per unit, we accept this price."
"But----we really don't have time to train pilots. The fleet of Britain people will launch a general attack tomorrow. Our pilots have never even flown such a fighter plane."
"Furthermore, the Chinese embargo has caused us to lose all our anti-ship missiles. Even if we have fighter planes, we have no weapons to use."
"It doesn't matter." Lucifer said in a calm tone, as if he was talking about a trivial matter, "We provide the pilots and missiles as gifts."
Fernandez General raised his head suddenly, his eyes filled with disbelief. "Really?"
"I never talk nonsense."
"But----" Fernandez frowned again, "Now that our sea and air are blocked by the Britain people, how do you send the fighter planes over? If we use shipping, it will take at least half a month, and there is no time at all."
Lucifer glanced at him, with a hint of pity for a fool in his eyes. "The fighter planes naturally flew here on their own. Don't they have wings?"
Fernandez was stunned.
The fighter plane flew over on its own?
How is this possible?
The nearby sea and airspace are now blocked.
Before he could react, Lucifer had already turned and walked towards the door. "Before that, please enjoy the buyer's show."
In the cockpit of Lieutenant Hector Sanchez, the altimeter pointer was shaking crazily, and the fighter plane was flying close to the sea.
The Skyhawk attack aircraft he piloted maintained a flying altitude of less than a millimeter above the sea, and the tips of its wings were almost flat enough to scrape the white foam on the waves.
The cabin was filled with the mixed smell of engine oil and sweat, and the back of his flight suit was soaked with cold sweat.
"Keep the altitude low! Don't climb!" The voice of Major Rodríguez, the leader of the formation, came from the radio, which was interrupted by the roar of the engine.
Hector gripped the joystick tightly, and his knuckles began to get sore from the continuous muscle tension.
Skyhawk was extremely unstable when flying across the sea. The turbulence hit it one after another. The fighter plane kept bumping like it was riding a wild horse. Every bump could knock the belly of the aircraft into the waves in the next second.
This is the only reason why he can survive until now.
The radar network of the Britain expedition fleet covers the entire sea area.
As long as he dares to raise the altitude to more than fifty meters, the lock alarm of sea receptor Anti-Aircraft Missile will immediately sound throughout the cockpit.
Two days ago, Captain Valdes of the same brigade died in this way. When he broke through Scott, he was captured by radar ten meters above the sea. The shrapnel from the sea receptor tore from the belly to the tail of the aircraft, and he did not even have a chance to parachute.
"The target is approaching! Prepare to drop bombs!" Rodríguez ordered.
Hector jerked the joystick, and Skyhawk bounced off the sea surface with a roar. The belly of the aircraft scraped off a wave crest, and seawater smeared on the windshield.
In an instant, he scanned the outline of the Britain fleet!
The island of Invincible, the mast of Sheffield, and the flashing dark red muzzle flashes of the anti-aircraft guns of several frigates on the periphery.
A conventional bomb detached from its wing pylon.
Hector pulled the lever with all his strength, trying to get back into the sea and escape immediately after dropping the bomb.
But the maneuverability of Skyhawk is too poor. It is an old Hiss high-speed attack aircraft, designed in the 1960s, and cannot supersonic speed or high-G maneuvers.
The climb after dropping the bomb almost pressed him against his seat. In these few seconds, the trajectory of the anti-aircraft gun had already caught up with his wing.
Hector pressed the pole desperately, and Skyhawk almost rolled sideways back to the sea surface, and fled westward against the waves.
Behind him, the bomb fell into the sea on the starboard side of the HMS Invincible ship island, splashing a column of water higher than the mast of the aircraft carrier.
But it was just a water column, not a hit flame.
Didn't hit again.
Hector punched the dashboard.
There are no air-to-ship missiles, so conventional aerial bombs can only be used for dive-throwing.
Every time they raid, they have to rush to the target directly above the target under intensive anti-aircraft fire, and drop the bombs like throwing bricks.
Most of the bombs fell into the water, and a few hit the deck and bounced off. Only a few of them actually caused damage.
And he didn't even have time to continue to be frustrated, the fuel warning light had already come on.
Skyhawk flew from the local airport to the war zone and had consumed more than half of the fuel.
He must leave the battle within five minutes, otherwise he will not have enough fuel to return home.
In this sea area, losing fuel is equivalent to a death sentence. Their Pampas Air Force has no search and rescue helicopters at all.
"Retreat! Retreat!" Rodríguez ordered, "Everyone, retreat and return!"
Hector gritted his teeth, grasped the joystick tightly, and prepared to evacuate to the west.
One was hit directly in the cockpit by proximity fire, and the pilot had no time to parachute.
The other one was hit by missile fragments in the engine as it was being pulled up after dropping the bomb, and fell into the sea dragging thick smoke.
Two of the eight Skyhawk were lost, and only one British frigate was damaged. One of the bombs bounced off the hull and hit the cockpit of the ship.
None hit the critical ammunition depot or the core area of the bridge.
At this moment, a sharp engine roar that had never been heard before came from high in the sky above.
It is not the deep wheezing of the old turbojet engine like Skyhawk, nor the intermittent roar of the Mirage III turbojet engine.
"Is it a missile attack?!" Hector's hair stood on end.
The clouds exploded.
Several gray shadows shot out from high in the sky, so fast that Hector's naked eyes could only capture the afterimages.
It wasn't any fighter jet he knew.
The next second, fire flashed under the wings of the gray shadow.
Four air-to-ship missiles detached from their pylons at the same time and headed towards HMS Sheffield at supersonic speed.
Inside HMS Sheffield, the radar controller was staring at the screen boredly.
Suddenly, the siren rang loudly.
"Unknown target! Attacking at high speed! Distance 100 kilometers!"
The captain's face changed drastically. "How is that possible?! Our radar coverage range is 300 kilometers! How did they suddenly appear?!"
"I don't know! There are only four faint light spots on the radar, approaching at a speed of Mach 2.5!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the first missile hit the side of HMS Duncan.
The huge explosion set off a fireball tens of meters high, turning half of the sky dark red.
High in the sky, before Hector could react from the shock, multiple gray shadows passed over his head.
This time he saw it clearly.
"That's----Amerikan's F-22 fighter?!"