Chapter 470 The Bombing Returns with a Full Load

The gaze that had become somewhat unfocused due to the long, monotonous patrol instantly snapped into sharp focus.

The operator even took off his wind goggles and rubbed his eye sockets vigorously; he seemed unable to believe the data fed back on the screen.

That was a desolate area on a remote Gobi Desert.

In countless routine reconnaissance missions before today.

In the imaging system of the optical radar, this area had absolutely no valuable military targets, other than undulating sand dunes and a few clumps of drought-resistant shrubs.

But now...

Right there on that barren flat ground.

In the feedback image on the screen, a set of neatly arranged special outlines had actually appeared!!!

"Sir, you need to come and see this!!!"

The operator's breathing became rapid, and he immediately stretched out his hands, clad in tactical gloves.

He hammered frantically on the console's keyboard.

He adjusted the high-precision optical lens under the fuselage, zooming in to the maximum magnification directly on the suspicious coordinate area.

As the image on the screen rapidly zoomed in~~~

The pixels continuously recombined, becoming clear.

Through the optical radar imaging system, they truly and clearly saw the image of fighter jets on the screen.

The captain walked quickly to the console.

The two of them lowered their heads, staring intently at the display screen.

They were several steel creations with camouflage paint, quietly parked at the edge of the sandy camouflage netting.

Looking down from an altitude of ten thousand meters.

One could even clearly see the metallic sheen on the fighter jets' streamlined fuselages, the reflection of the cockpit covers in the morning sunlight, and even the realistic 3D shadows beneath the wings.

These perfectly rendered 3D visual features, in the judgment of Country A's high-tech radar, were authentic fighter jets!!!

"My God..."

The operator swallowed a mouthful of dry saliva; had they actually found an open-air airfield with several fighter jets parked there?!

The atmosphere in the cabin was instantly ignited.

The crew's voices were trembling with excitement; they had been wandering around this airspace like headless flies for so many days, and they had finally caught a real big fish!!!

Without the slightest hesitation.

The captain immediately grabbed the communicator.

Then, he reported this high-value coordinate to his superiors via an encrypted channel.

...

After receiving the coordinates.

The attack aircraft formation currently executing combat patrol missions in the nearby airspace immediately received attack orders from the frontline command post.

After a burst of static in the communication channel, there were the ecstatic voices of the pilots.

These attack aircraft, fully loaded with precision-guided bombs, banked their wings sharply in mid-air.

Two high-thrust turbofan engines erupted with a deafening roar.

Then, these expensive aerial killers were like sharks that had caught the scent of blood.

The pilots pulled on their control sticks, excitedly descending in altitude, and sped toward the open ground where the coordinates were located.

Inside the cockpit, a blonde pilot looked at the ground target locked on his fire-control radar.

A mocking smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

'The concealment techniques of these mud-legged peasants are as ridiculous as an infant just learning to play hide-and-seek.'

'They actually dare to park such precious fighter jets so blatantly on open wasteland,' he thought to himself.

Carrying this air of condescending arrogance.

The pilot used his thumb to "snap" open the red protective cover on the control stick, and then mercilessly pressed the launch button toward that open ground.

"Whoosh—"

The precision-guided bombs on the pylons detached from the fuselage, the heavy bomb bodies slicing through the air, emitting a scalp-tingling whistle as they dove straight toward the ground.

Immediately after.

Accompanied by an earth-shattering roar, a violent shockwave swept wildly in all directions.

Tons of yellow sand were blasted high into the sky.

The originally flat wasteland was instantly blasted into several bottomless, huge craters.

The fireball of the explosion and the rolling thick smoke formed a huge grayish-yellow mushroom cloud that shot straight into the sky.

The pilots circling in mid-air watched this spectacular scene and excitedly whistled into the channel.

They felt that Hassan's precious fighter jets must have been turned into countless metal fragments in this round of devastating strikes.

...

And this wave of bombing seemed to have flipped a lucky switch.

In the next few hours.

The entire joint strike formation of Country A & Israel was practically met with an unprecedented carnival.

Their expensive optical radars discovered targets one after another within this vast area.

As those painting machines, disguised in the shells of sweeping robots, continued working overnight on various wastelands.

More and more realistic 3D patterns were formed.

The reconnaissance aircraft in the sky were like mice that had fallen into a rice vat; they were thrilled.

"Airspace 04, four enemy fighter jets discovered, requesting strike!"

"Edge of the canyon in Airspace 09, two suspected bomber targets discovered, requesting permission to drop bombs!"

Reports of victory flew to the command center like snowflakes.

They found one fighter jet airfield after another.

Those enemy assets, which had originally hidden like ghosts, seemed to be collectively exposed under the sun at this moment.

The pilots of Country A were completely bloodthirsty.

In the logistics base in the distance, ground crew were rushing about, constantly reloading returning fighter jets with high-explosive warheads and bunker-busting bombs.

The sound of take-offs and landings on the runway almost never stopped; a new wave of attack aircraft took off again, dropping bombs as if they were free.

On the Gobi Desert in the Middle East, there were deafening explosions everywhere, and the rolling thick smoke even obscured half the sky into a grayish-yellow color.

These condescending pilots even started making bets in the communication channel to see who could destroy more fighter jets.

This pleasure of one-sided slaughter made them feel like they were the chosen ones, with the glory buff of a superpower's Air Force fully charged.

They just had no idea that the precision-guided bombs, which cost millions or tens of millions of dollars each, were only smashing industrial paint that cost a few dollars a liter on the sand.

...

Meanwhile.

Hundreds of kilometers away, in the rear command hall.

This was the brain of the entire strike operation.

And the commander of this joint formation, a colonel from Country A, was the very same bearded man who had previously felt his intelligence was being ground into the dirt because of those Bird-repelling machines that looked like sweeping robots, and had smashed boxes in his tent in anger.

At this moment, the colonel was standing with his hands behind his back in front of the huge electronic tactical display screen, watching the battle damage assessment reports continuously fed back on the big screen.

On the display screen, green markers representing confirmed destruction lit up densely on the map of the Middle East.

Each battle report represented the complete erasure of one of Hassan's group's aerial forces.

Seeing these fruitful results that were hard to believe, the colonel's face, which had been gloomy for days, finally blossomed into a smile.

Even the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes smoothed out.

'That old fox Hassan has finally shown his true colors after all.'

'He went to such lengths to use those sweeping robots to distract me before, but now he's finished, isn't he?' he thought to himself with satisfaction.

The colonel felt his tactical judgment this time was absolutely legendary.

If he hadn't insisted on expanding the reconnaissance range, how could he have achieved such brilliant results?

This wasn't just a destruction report; this was undeniably his ticket to promotion!!!

Once all aerial threats from the resistance forces in this region were completely wiped out, he could already imagine that after returning home, the generals at the Dead Corner Building would personally pin a shining general's star on him.

He was overjoyed.

He walked to the wine cabinet on the side of the hall, picked up a bottle of decanted high-end red wine, poured himself a small half-glass, and took a smug sip.

The mellow liquid slid down his throat, making his heart, full of greed and ambition, feel extremely comfortable.

Putting down the wine glass, he didn't hesitate at all, turned around directly, and gave orders to the adjutant waiting behind him.

"Immediately summarize the coordinates of these destroyed enemy airfields, the comparison photos before and after the explosions, and the detailed destruction count statistics into a beautiful battle report for me."

The colonel adjusted the collar of his uniform, his tone filled with undisguised arrogance.

He reported this brilliant result across the ocean directly to his superiors.

Listening to the beeping sounds from the instruments at the communication console, a look of self-satisfaction appeared on the colonel's face.

He felt that the big bosses at the Dead Corner Building would definitely be overjoyed this time.