They had lost contact with the Global Hawk? What the fuck was going on?
This was the Americans' most advanced unmanned reconnaissance aircraft. Sure, others had been shot down before, but this wasn't shooting sparrows. Could just anyone bring one down?
More importantly, as a reconnaissance aircraft, the Global Hawk could detect targets itself.
In the previous incidents where Global Hawks had been shot down, they had detected the missile locks. But they carried relatively few infrared decoy shells, so once a missile locked on, escaping destruction was difficult.
Even so, the United States military could at least tell that the drone had been shot down by a missile, right?
But this time, it was downright bizarre. Contact with the drone had simply vanished.
It was as though it had disappeared into thin air.
Had a bolt of lightning suddenly struck from the sky and blasted the drone apart?
Never mind that there had been no recent lightning storms in the area the Global Hawk had reached—even if there had been, the drone's built-in lightning protection should have given it some chance of survival. It shouldn't have been destroyed instantly.
After repeated attempts to contact the drone failed, the U.S. Military became almost certain that it had crashed.
Drones weren't like piloted aircraft. Even if a piloted aircraft lost contact, its pilot could still land safely or make an emergency landing. A drone couldn't. Without control from the ground, it was like a headless fly and might plunge straight into the sea.
Brigadier General John had lost every trace of his earlier smugness. If not for his repeated requests, his superiors would never have agreed to send this Global Hawk over.
Now the Global Hawk was gone. That was nearly a hundred million dollars' worth of equipment, and his superiors