The unidentified F-22 fighter jet made no attempt to conceal itself or maneuver.
It just plunged down from the sky so openly and honestly.
"What is that?!" the British pilot cried out on the public radio channel. "When did they appear?!"
"Friend or foe?"
"Never mind that, there's only one, intercept it first."
The four Harrier FA.2s immediately abandoned their pursuit of the Skyhawk and turned to engage the F-22s.
However, before the Sea Harrier FA.2 could even enter missile range, the F-22, which had come alone, launched an air-to-air missile.
Wait, that's 160 kilometers!
Why are its missiles so far-reaching?!
"Evade! Evade now!" the British pilot roared, desperately performing high-G maneuvers.
But it was useless.
The first Harrier FA.2 exploded in mid-air.
The second one.
The third one.
The fourth one.
Less than fifteen seconds.
All four of the once invincible FA-2 fighter jets were shot down.
None were spared.
Throughout the entire process, the F-22 did not even enter the range of the Sea Harrier FA.2 missile.
The only saving grace was that the F-22's missiles were not very powerful, and the downed pilot successfully ejected.
Hector sat in the cockpit, staring in disbelief at everything.
What's going on? The father hit his son?
Just as the British forces were still reeling from the shock, another eleven F-22 fighter jets suddenly emerged from the clouds, forming a dense attack formation and brazenly heading towards the Britain task force.
Then, right under the noses of the British, they launched anti-ship missiles!
"Air raid siren!!!" The radar controller's voice trembled with emotion on the bridge of the Destroyer Britain, "Twelve anti-ship missiles! High-speed approach! Sixty kilometers away!"
The captain, his face ashen, yelled, "Activate the close-in weapon system! Launch Sea Dart missile! Intercept them all!"
The Phalanx CIWS spewed fire, and Sea Dart missile launched one after another.
However, these defensive measures are completely ineffective against supersonic missiles.
"Harrier FA.2! Get the rest of the Harrier FA.2s airborne!"
Onboard the USS Invincible, Sea Harrier FA.2 fighter jets were scrambled from the carrier deck in an attempt to intercept the incoming F-22 fighter jets.
But this was a one-sided massacre.
As soon as they took off, British wing captain Mark Davis saw the threat warning light on his helmet display flashing a bright red.
"Locked up?!" He jerked the lever, the 9G overload pressing him firmly into the seat, his vision blurring.
But when he looked at the radar screen, he found that there was no trace of the enemy at all.
"The radar can't see anything! Where are they?!" The wingman's scream exploded on the radio.
The next second, out of the corner of Mark's eye, he caught a glimpse of a gray shadow swooping past him from the side and behind at an impossible angle.
"They're at our six o'clock position!" He had barely uttered those words when a missile precisely struck the wingman's exhaust nozzle.
Fireballs burst one after another high in the sky.
The FA.2 pilots were desperately performing extreme maneuvers, throwing flares and chaff, but the missiles seemed to have eyes and were relentlessly pursuing them.
Some tried to dodge away, only to find that the other party was twice as fast as them, leaving them no chance to escape.
The entire air combat lasted less than a minute.
Eight more Harrier FA.2s were shot down.
Seeing this, the remaining Harrier FA.2 fighters that had arrived dared not approach; wouldn't that just be giving them an easy kill streak?
So Dai Ying used their racial talent to betray their teammates.
They didn't care about any fleet anymore; they just wanted to escape.
With no further threats, the F-22 fighter jets turned their attention to the Britain Task Force.
The first missile hit the side of the guided-missile Destroyer USS Duncan.
A deafening explosion rang out.
This $45 Destroyer, worth a billion dollars, has a large, visible hole in its hull.
Following that, the " Dreadnought " and "Dragon" were also hit.
The aircraft carrier "Invincible" desperately swerved to avoid a missile, which grazed its flight deck and struck the island superstructure!
The F-22 formation, having completed its attack, pulled back up and circled once over the Britain Task Force.
Hector witnessed it all.
In less than three minutes, nearly twenty aircraft from the Britain task force crashed into the South Atlantic.
Is it the father hitting the son?
"Has this world been turned into a place I no longer recognize?"
Pampas, Rio Grande Base.
When news arrived that the twelve F-22 fighter jets had landed safely, the entire base fell into a deathly silence.
No one could believe their eyes.
What's going on? Amerikan is our ally now?
When did we become so awesome?
That's not right. If Amerikan really sided with us, Britain still dare to attack?
Everyone said they didn't understand, but were deeply shocked.
General Fernandez, who had rushed over, stood by the runway, watching the F-22s slowly taxiing onto the tarmac, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.
Lucifer walked up to him and handed him a contract. "Alright, the war is over, these fighter jets are yours. Remember to pay."
Fernandez took the contract, and when he saw the total amount on it, his expression was priceless.
A fighter jet costs $70 million per unit, which is really not expensive.
It also includes training and a free missile.
The problem is, we have to buy 24 of them at once!
The total cost is $2 billion!
If you include subsequent maintenance, upkeep, and missile resupply, it becomes a significant expense every year.
But the Pampas of today is no longer the oil-rich breadbasket of South America.
Today, the Pampas has less than $10 billion in foreign exchange reserves, an inflation rate as high as 30%, and has just experienced its ninth sovereign debt default.
The government is barely able to pay its civil servants' salaries, let alone come up with $2 billion to buy airplanes.
"This—this price—" Fernandez said with difficulty, "We—we simply cannot afford it."
His face burned as he said this.
Others helped you win the war and saved your country, yet you tell them you have no money.
But no money is no money.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, as if she had expected this outcome.
She took out another contract. "It doesn't matter, we accept installment payments."
Fernandez held the new contract and discovered it was for a low-interest rate.
"Fine, I'm leaving office soon anyway, let the president and his team deal with this Messy Situation."
SNSNEN
The war is over, but not completely over.
On the South Atlantic Ocean, the Type 45 Destroyer HMS Duncan was ripped open by two missiles, each ten meters wide, and icy seawater rushed into the cabins.
The engine room instantly failed, the electrical system collapsed completely, and the entire warship began to list and sink.
"Abandon ship! Everyone abandon ship!"
The captain stood on the tilting bridge, yelling into the walkie-talkie.
The sailors, wearing life jackets, jumped into the icy seawater one after another.
The HMS Duncan, once hailed as " Europe's most powerful air defense Destroyer," now resembles a dying whale, uttering its final lament on the sea.
Not far away, the aircraft carrier "Invincible" also lost power.
A missile grazed the rear of the island superstructure, and the flight deck was twisted and deformed, rendering all carrier-based aircraft unable to take off.
Three Type 23 frigates surrounded it, forming a fragile air defense circle, but everyone knew it was futile.
If Warhammer's F-22s were to launch another attack, the entire task force would be sunk to the bottom of the sea.
"How long until the rescue ship arrives?" the captain of the Invincible shouted into the radio, his voice filled with barely concealed despair.
"Captain, the rescue ship for Ascension Island will take at least 72 hours to arrive."
Seventy-two hours.
In the frigid South Atlantic, a sailor who falls into the water can survive for a maximum of six hours.
The HMS Duncan will sink completely in a maximum of 3 hours.
The captain looked at the sailors struggling on the surface of the sea, then at the HMS Duncan slowly sinking, and slammed his fist on the railing.
Just then, the lookout suddenly shouted, "Captain! A large ship has been spotted to the northwest! It's heading towards us!"
Everyone suddenly looked up.
On the horizon, a huge gray outline was slowly approaching.
It was even larger than the Invincible, with a deck as flat as a football field, and a Double-Headed Eagle, a red emblem on the bow, stood out prominently in the sunlight.
It's a semi-submersible ship from Warhammer Heavy Industries.
"Pangu"
" Pangu? What's it doing here?" the captain asked, puzzled. "This is a combat zone; civilian ships have already evacuated."
The words had barely left his lips when a voice in American English came through the radio. "This is the Warhammer Heavy Industries semi-submersible 'Pangu.' We happen to be passing by and have discovered that your fleet is in distress. Do you require assistance?"
The captain paused for a moment.
Just passing by?
What a coincidence!
You're kidding me!
Do you think we're three-year-olds?!
Not to mention how vast the ocean is, why did you have to come at this particular time?
Besides, everyone knows that right now, only you guys are capable of building F-22 fighter jets!
You assaulted someone and are now trying to clean up the mess.
Offering a one-stop service?!
Those damned, heartless capitalists!
Despite his anger, the captain knew what to do when he saw the ship about to sink. "Tell them we need emergency rescue!"
The person in charge of the Pangu quickly replied, "According to the International Maritime Salvage Convention, we can provide rescue services, but only free of charge."
"Additional fees apply to the use of cargo ships."
" Destroyer cost $50 million per 10,000 tons, and aircraft carriers cost $80 million per 10,000 tons."
Secondly, we do not provide towing services to other ports.
There was complete silence on the radio.
All the British officers were stunned.
Fifty million US dollars for ten thousand tons?
The HMS Duncan has a displacement of 7,500 tons, and the towing fee alone is 37.5 million US dollars.
The Invincible had a displacement of 21,000 tons, and the towing fee was as high as US$168 million.
This is hardly a rescue.
This is robbery!
"You're taking advantage of our misfortune!" the captain trembled with rage. "This is extortion!"
"Captain," the Pangu's manager said innocently, "You can refuse. We can turn around and leave now. Humanitarian aid doesn't require a rescue ship."
The person in charge of the Pangu added, "By the way, you'd better make a decision quickly; the longer you delay, the more difficult the ship rescue will be."
The captain, watching the HMS Duncan sink rapidly, knew he had no choice.
"--I agree."
"Very good."
One hour later.
In the final moments before it sank completely, the HMS Duncan was lifted onto the deck of the semi-submersible vessel by the giant crane of the Pangu.
The Invincible and two other damaged frigates were also firmly secured to the sides of the Pangu tugboats.
Hundreds of sailors who had fallen into the water were rescued and brought aboard the ship. Wrapped in blankets, they sat on the deck, staring at the gleaming Warhammer Heavy Industries logo, their faces filled with humiliation.
The Pangu slowly turned its bow and headed towards Amerikan.
The sunlight reflected on the sea, illuminating the massive semi-submersible vessel like a triumphant conqueror.
10 Downing Street, London.
The Prime Minister looked at the Casualty Report in his hand, his vision blurred, and he almost fainted.
Three Type 45 Destroyer were severely damaged, with the HMS Duncan suffering two 10-meter-wide breaches torn in its side, allowing seawater to rush in. It is expected to sink completely in at most three hours.
The HMS Dreadnought aircraft carrier's propulsion system failed, and it is adrift at sea awaiting rescue.
This was the most devastating defeat for the Royal Navy since World War II.
And what defeated them was merely the 12F-22 fighter jet.
It's not the Amerikan Air Force's F-22, but a modified F-22 produced by Warhammer Heavy Industries.
"Disgrace! This is an utter disgrace!" The Prime Minister slammed the Casualty Report on the table. "We have one of the world's most powerful navies, and yet we've been completely annihilated by just 12 aircraft from a private company!"
The defense minister lowered his head, not daring to speak.
Just then, the secretary rushed in, her face pale. "Prime Minister! Something terrible has happened! Warhammer Heavy Industries ' semi-submersible ships have saved our fleet!"
"Saved?" The Prime Minister paused for a moment, then breathed a sigh of relief. "Isn't that a good thing?"
"Good news?" The secretary gave a wry smile and handed over a fax. "Take a look for yourself. This is their bill." The Prime Minister took the fax, glanced at it, and his blood pressure instantly spiked.
"$250 million in tugboat fees?"
He was trembling with rage, tearing the fax to shreds. "This is robbery! Blatant robbery!"
"And it's even worse," the secretary whispered. "They'll only tow the ship to the Warhammer Shipyard, refusing to transport it to the designated location. In other words—we'll have to get them to repair it."
"Why can't other shipyards in Amerikan do the repairs?" the Prime Minister roared.
"Mr. Prime Minister," the Defense Secretary finally spoke, his tone bitter, "We have no other choice. Less than one in ten shipyards in Amerikan remain, and the few that are still there are all fully booked."
"Besides, the slowness of their repairs is secondary; the main problem is—they're too expensive."
"The cost is even twice that of domestic companies. The only ideal solution is to contact Warhammer Heavy Industries. Their prices are lower than those in China, and they guarantee completion within six months."
The Prime Minister was stunned.
He finally understood.
All of this was planned in advance.
He first sinks your ship, then saves it, and then forces you to repair it in his shipyard.
They not only make money from selling airplanes, but also from rescue and maintenance fees.
Even the bones had to be chewed up and swallowed.
"Is there really no other way?" The Prime Minister's voice was a little hoarse.
"We have no choice but to agree," the Defense Secretary sighed. "Otherwise, we will lose the entire task force, and then we will lose our say in the entire South Atlantic."
The Prime Minister slumped in his chair, staring at the gloomy London sky outside the window, unable to utter a single word.
He remembered the phone call President Lanpu had made the day before.
Lanpu confidently stated on the phone that Warhammer's F-22 posed no threat whatsoever.
And the result?
They not only have airplanes, but also missiles, semi-submersible ships, and shipyards.
Their system is much more complete than yours.
Just then, the phone rang.
It is President Lanpu.
The Prime Minister took a deep breath and answered the phone.
Before he could even speak, Lanpu's roar came through the receiver, "What have you guys done? The whole world is laughing at us!"
The Prime Minister was stunned.
Wait a minute, shouldn't they be asking the questions themselves?
Was it my fault?
Lanpu gave him no chance to react and continued his tirade, "Do you know how much pressure I'm under right now?!"
"Do you know how many people are trying to buy F-22 fighter jets from me right now? The problem is, we don't have the capacity to build them anymore."
"Do you know how painful it is to see those bright green banknotes not going into my pocket?!"
Lanpu was furious. Who would have thought that the F-22 fighter jet would be so powerful, becoming a hard currency in the global arms market overnight?
Unfortunately, those incompetent people at Lockheed Martin were unable to resume production.
Orders are pouring in from all over the world, but he can only watch as stacks of cash flow into Fu Haoran's pocket.
To make matters worse, the bigwigs of the military-industrial complex have made more than a dozen calls pressuring him to immediately deal with Warhammer Heavy Industries, this "troublemaker."
If he can't come up with a solution soon, his chances of winning the midterm elections will be completely ruined.
He knew perfectly well that a troublemaker was secretly selling, but his men couldn't find any evidence!
Even though the whole world knows that Warhammer Heavy Industries is behind this, they can still completely deny any involvement.
They wanted to take action, but the military backed down!
When did Amerikan's president become so incompetent?!
It was already infuriating enough, but then Dai Ying, that little bastard, let us down and got thrashed 18-0!
And the battle record is verifiable!
This matter simply cannot be suppressed!
The news spread throughout the world at the speed of light.
The world is shaken.
Everyone realized that a new military giant had been born.
Lanpu was still furious after hanging up the phone.
At that moment, the television news was filled with reports about the F-22.
Even more critically, countries like Turkey have successively purchased F-22 fighter jets.
Although the number is small, neighboring countries are panicking.
South Korea, in particular, received eight phone calls in one day demanding the release of authority to purchase F-22 fighter jets for self-defense.
Even the navy has the same requirement.
"Tell me," he said in a low voice, as if squeezing out from between his teeth, "That they have no systems, no early warning aircraft, no electronic warfare aircraft, no data links."
"You guys say that even the best single-player game is still an isolated island, and its combat effectiveness will be greatly reduced."
Lanpu whirled around, his eyes bloodshot, and roared as he pointed at the burning warships on the screen, "Then the Pampas used these 'islands' to sink three Destroyer and shoot down 18 Harrier FA.2s in five minutes! You call that a significant reduction in combat effectiveness?!"
Samuel and Gregory stood there, heads bowed, unable to utter a single word.
All their theories and analyses became a joke in the face of irrefutable facts.
"I don't care what methods you use, immediately shut down all of DYB Technology and Warhammer Heavy Industries' operations in North America!"
"Stop going through the motions, now, immediately, right now!"