181: Chapter 181 I'm Faster Than It!

100 kilometers off the coast of the East China Sea.

300 meters below the sea surface.

The uss louisiana, an Ohio-class strategic nuclear submarine, was cruising at a silent speed of five knots.

Captain Greg Morris stood in the center of the command cabin, clutching a slip of paper that had just been spat out by the cryptographic machine.

The note had only three lines.

Authorization code.

Target trajectory coordinates.

And one sentence.

"The President is with you."

Greg handed the note to the executive officer.

The executive officer finished reading it and paused for two seconds.

"Sir, target ID CX890."

He looked up.

"This is a civilian airliner, and a civilian airliner from the East."

Greg did not respond.

More than twenty people in the command cabin were at their respective posts.

The sonar operator stared at the waterfall display.

The fire control officer guarded the launch panel.

The navigation officer marked the current position on the nautical chart.

No one made a sound.

They had all heard it.

A civilian airliner from the East.

A boeing 777.

There were over three hundred passengers on board.

Greg walked to the fire control console.

"Load vertical launch tubes one through four."

The fire control officer looked up.

"Warhead type?"

"tomahawk missile Block V."

The fire control officer's hand paused.

"Sir, the Block V is a land-attack variant. To hit an aerial target, we need to switch the guidance mode."

"Experimental warhead."

Greg pressed the note against the edge of the fire control console.

"Terminal infrared tracking. It was installed by the Pacific Command three months ago."

The fire control officer lowered his head to operate the console.

"Tube one, loading confirmed."

"Tube two, loading confirmed."

"Tube three, loading confirmed."

"Tube four, loading confirmed."

Four tomahawk missiles.

Used to hit a passenger plane.

The executive officer stood to the side, not moving.

Greg turned his head.

"Surface to launch depth."

The executive officer gritted his teeth.

"Sir!"

"Execute."

The executive officer pressed the broadcast button.

"Attention all hands, surface to ten meters, prepare for vertical launch."

The ballast tanks began to drain.

The submarine tilted upward.

The numbers on the depth gauge jumped backward.

Three hundred.

Two hundred fifty.

Two hundred.

One hundred fifty.

The sonar operator suddenly spoke.

"Sir, bearing zero-three-five, detected active sonar pulse."

He paused.

"Feature match, East Navy Renhai-class large destroyer."

The command cabin became even quieter.

Renhai-class.

055.

112 vertical launch cells.

One of the most dangerous things in the East Asian waters.

Greg walked to the sonar console.

"Distance."

"Approximately forty nautical miles, moving in our direction."

"Have they discovered us?"

"Currently, it's a wide-area search, not a directional lock."

The sonar operator looked at the screen.

"But if we continue to surface, the noise will increase."

The depth gauge jumped to ninety meters.

Greg returned to the command console.

"Continue."

The executive officer followed behind him.

"If we are locked by the 055—"

"Then launch before being locked."

Greg inserted the launch key into the panel.

The executive officer stood for two seconds, then inserted the second key.

Both keys were turned simultaneously.

Four red lights lit up.

Depth fifty meters.

Twenty meters.

Ten meters.

"Reached launch depth."

The fire control officer's voice was tight.

"Tubes one through four, ballistic solution complete."

"Target coordinates locked."

"Guidance mode: inertial plus terminal infrared."

"Ready."

Greg pressed the all-ship broadcast button.

"Direct order from Pacific Command."

"Presidential authorization."

He paused for half a second.

"Fire."

Tube one opened its hatch.

The muffled sound of seawater rushing in came from above the hull.

The gas generator ignited.

Boom.

The first tomahawk missile was pushed out of the launch tube, passed through ten meters of seawater, and broke the surface.

The booster ignited.

Firelight tore through the night.

Boom.

The second.

Boom.

The third.

Boom.

The fourth.

The four tomahawk missiles surfaced one after another, completed their turns, lowered their altitude, and dove toward the southwest.

Target.

CX890.

Greg put down the microphone.

No one cheered.

On the sonar operator's screen, the frequency of the 055's sonar pulses suddenly increased.

They shifted from wide-area search to directional tracking.

The sonar operator turned back.

"Sir, the Renhai-class has locked onto us."

Greg closed his eyes.

"Dive."

"Evacuate at full speed."

Southern Theater Command Joint Operations Command Center.

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming had just finished handling the return flight issue of CX890.

General Jiang Zhan's channel had not yet been fully disconnected.

Hong Kong Airport had already cleared its runway.

Two J-20s were still flying alongside CX890.

Things on Li Li's side were temporarily under control.

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming picked up his thermos, but the tea hadn't reached his mouth yet.

An alarm sounded.

Red.

Level one.

Red frames popped up on all screens throughout the command hall simultaneously.

The early warning staff officer sprang up from his chair.

"Report!"

"Sea-based infrared early warning satellite has captured four high-temperature heat sources in the East China Sea!"

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming put down his cup.

"Repeat."

"East China Sea, 24.3 degrees north latitude, 122.7 degrees east longitude, four consecutive infrared flashes."

"Ballistic characteristics confirmed."

"Tomahawk cruise missiles."

"Four."

"Direction: southwest."

Everyone in the hall paused.

East China Sea.

tomahawk missile.

Four.

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming stood up.

"Source."

"Sea-based launch, presumed to be from submarine vertical launch tubes."

The staff officer projected the coordinates onto the big screen.

"Launch coordinates have been marked."

Four red arrows drew tracks from a location in the East China Sea, pressing toward South China.

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming stared at the screen.

"Have the US forces gone crazy?"

No one answered.

And no one dared to answer.

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming turned to the air defense staff officer.

"Target prediction."

The air defense staff officer tapped his fingers on the keyboard.

"Flight altitude fifty to one hundred meters."

"Speed 0.75 Mach."

"Ballistic extrapolation, target area is from the Guangdong coast to the Hong Kong airspace."

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming did not wait any longer.

"All air defense units enter level one combat readiness."

"HQ-9, HQ-16 standby for interception."

"055 formation switch to anti-missile mode."

"Sea-based interception deployed simultaneously."

He glanced at the launch coordinates.

"Also."

"Execute a saturation strike on the launch coordinates."

The air defense staff officer looked up.

"Chief of Staff, confirm to execute a strike on the launch coordinates?"

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming turned his head.

"It is launching cruise missiles into our territory from the East China Sea."

"I don't care if it's a nuclear submarine or a fishing boat down there."

"I want whatever is under those coordinates to disappear."

"YJ-18, Yu-8, rocket-propelled depth charges."

"Use them all."

"055 formation, execute."

The order was given.

Within thirty seconds.

The Nanchang and the Lhasa turned simultaneously.

The ship-based phased array radar was activated at full power.

The vertical launch cells opened.

The YJ-18 popped out of the launch silos.

The Yu-8 rocket-assisted torpedoes launched into the sky.

The rocket-propelled depth charge launchers completed their turn and fired continuously.

The surface of the East China Sea exploded.

Columns of water shot up one after another.

The uss louisiana had just dived to 120 meters.

Seven incoming targets appeared on the sonar screen simultaneously.

Greg stood in the command cabin, the color drained from his face.

He finally understood that sentence.

"The President is with you."

It didn't mean going home together.

It meant letting them die here.

They die.

The President steps down.

Southern Theater Command Command Center.

Interception deployed simultaneously.

In the eastern Guangdong position, two HQ-9s launched into the sky.

The 055 Nanchang's bow vertical launch system opened.

The HHQ-9B ejected from the silo, completed its turn in three seconds, and dove toward the first tomahawk missile.

The air defense staff officer stared at the screen.

"Tomahawk one, interceptor missile locked."

"Tomahawk two, HQ-16 taking over."

"Three, four..."

His voice suddenly cut off.

The ballistic extrapolation results refreshed.

The terminal guidance of the four tomahawk missiles was not in the land-attack mode.

It was aerial target tracking.

Terminal infrared guidance.

The air defense staff officer stood up abruptly.

"Chief of Staff!"

"The target of the four tomahawk missiles is not the ground!"

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming hadn't spoken yet.

The staff officer had already overlaid the flight path map and the ballistic trajectory map.

The intersection point of the four red ballistic lines fell in front of a green dot.

The green dot's ID was clearly visible.

CX890.

The hall went quiet for half a second.

The tomahawk missiles were not hitting a city.

Not a military base.

Not a port.

They were hitting that boeing 777.

The plane that Li Li was flying.

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming grabbed the communication microphone.

"Connect to CX890!"

The communication operator switched frequencies immediately.

"Connected!"

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming pressed the talk button.

"Li Li!"

In the cockpit.

Li Li was adjusting the heading.

Altitude 32,000, continuing to descend.

Hong Kong Airport had entered the approach range.

Outside the windshield, the navigation lights of the two J-20s were on the left and right, never leaving.

The cabin was much quieter than before.

The passengers had already seen the official announcement.

But everyone was still wearing their seatbelts, not daring to move around.

Inside the cockpit.

Snow sat on the folding stool, holding the hard drive in his hands.

Chief Flight Attendant Chen Xiyun stood guard by the door, with a fire extinguisher at her feet.

The co-pilot was still tied on the floor, with tape over his mouth.

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming's voice suddenly exploded in the communication.

"Li Li!"

Li Li's hand stopped next to the throttle lever.

"Lieutenant General Zhao, speak."

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming's voice was more urgent than before.

"There are four tomahawk missiles flying toward you."

No one in the cockpit spoke.

Snow slid off the folding stool.

The fire extinguisher at Chief Flight Attendant Chen Xiyun's feet hit the floor.

The co-pilot struggled on the floor, a muffled sound squeezing out from under the tape.

Chief Flight Attendant Chen Xiyun glanced at him and wanted to kick him, but seeing his bruised head, she decided against it.

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming continued.

"Terminal infrared guidance."

"Estimated to reach your flight path in seven minutes."

"We are intercepting with all our might."

"But we cannot guarantee all four will be shot down."

The cockpit went quiet for a second.

Li Li leaned back in his seat, looking at the speed, altitude, and heading on the instrument panel.

He glanced at the J-20 on the outside again.

The navigation light flashed.

Li Li pressed the communication button.

"Lieutenant General Zhao."

"Speak."

"The maximum speed of a boeing 777 is 0.87 Mach."

His right hand landed on the throttle lever.

"The Tomahawk is 0.75."

Lieutenant General Zhao Ming paused for half a second.

"What are you going to do?"

Li Li pushed both engine throttles to the limit.

The fuselage shook.

The speed numbers started to climb.

He spoke.

"So, theoretically."

"I am faster than it."