85: What about the missiles? Are they just for show?

【Confirm purchase of 10 C-17 "Globemaster III" transport aircraft, unit price $150 million, total $1.5 billion.】

【Confirm recruitment of 50 S-rank crew members, including pilots, navigators, flight engineers, and ground crew experts.】

【Costs bundled.】

【Total deduction of $1.5 billion.】

David watched the funds in the system vanish in an instant. His heart twitched, but his face remained calm.

Money lost can be earned back, but if the timing of the fighter jets is missed, it will have to be paid for with the lives of Soldiers!

The next second, under the utterly shocked gazes of Elijah, Leonardo, and the others.

Ten massive aircraft, like prehistoric beasts, appeared out of thin air on the empty tarmac!

Their gray paint jobs emitted a cold metallic glint in the night.

The enormous fuselages were filled with a sense of oppression, like ten moving mountains.

"Holy shit..." Elijah stammered, his eyes almost popping out of his sockets. "Boss... where did these come from?"

Leonardo rushed forward, caressing the cold fuselage of the C-17 as if he were stroking a lover, murmuring to himself.

"My god... it's the Globemaster... it's really the Globemaster..."

Just as they were in shock, fifty men and women wearing brand-new flight suits and ground crew uniforms appeared beside the aircraft.

They stood in formation, and the leading Colonel pilot saluted David.

"Sir! Strategic Transport Aircraft Unit, reporting for duty!"

David snapped back to reality, nodded with satisfaction, and said to Leonardo, who was still stunned.

"Leonardo, these are your new babies, and they are the most elite crew members under your command. Immediately, have them coordinate with the troops!"

"Yes! Boss!" Leonardo's face flushed with excitement as he stood at attention and shouted.

With strategic transport aircraft, his air force could finally spread its wings!

"Wait." David thought of another problem.

"Is the airport's aviation fuel reserve enough to feed these ten big guys, plus our entire attack aircraft fleet?"

The airport manager was called over. He took one look at the C-17, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Boss, our... our fuel depot is only enough for them to fly one sortie..."

"I see."

David waved him away and, finding an excuse, walked alone toward the fuel depot area.

He opened the system again.

【Purchase 100,000 tons of JP-8 aviation fuel.】

As the funds decreased again, the storage gauge of the airport's underground fuel depot began to soar crazily at a speed visible to the naked eye.

After getting everything sorted, David returned to the temporary command post. The way everyone looked at him was now almost like they were looking at a deity.

"Alright, now we have the tool to put an elephant into a refrigerator."

David clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention back. "Mateo, readjust the operational plan!"

"Yes!"

Chief of the General Staff Mateo responded excitedly.

The new operational plan was quickly produced.

The originally scheduled airborne mission for the Special Operations Regiment remained unchanged, but the transport vehicle was changed from helicopters to C-17s. A single sortie of transport aircraft.

Would be able to deliver the entire Special Operations Regiment, including personnel and equipment, and even their all-terrain assault vehicles, to the destination!

As for the Army's 5th Brigade and 6th Brigade, these two most elite light infantry brigades.

Would serve as the second echelon and, after the airport was secured, be airlifted directly to La Paz airport by the C-17s as a complete unit!

The 7th Brigade and 8th Brigade would serve as the general reserve, standing by at all times, ready to reinforce any combat situation that might arise via transport aircraft.

"In addition, notify the air force." David added, a sly arc curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Be careful when bombing, and make sure to bomb La Paz airport accurately. Just destroy their air defense positions and garrison base."

"Leave those C-130 transport aircraft on the airport runway and tarmac intact for me."

"After the war is over, those will be our spoils of war."

Everyone laughed knowingly.

As orders were issued one after another, the entire Free Army controlled area turned into a high-speed war machine.

Soldiers from the 5th Brigade, 6th Brigade, and the Special Operations Regiment were urgently pulled from their barracks to the airport.

Countless military trucks flowed in an endless stream, transporting mountains of weapons, ammunition, food, and medical supplies to the side of the C-17s.

Looking at these behemoths they had never seen before, the Soldiers were dumbfounded, and then erupted into earth-shaking cheers.

2:00 AM sharp.

On the huge screen in the command center, the numbers representing the time ticked silently.

David picked up the communicator and issued the order in a calm voice.

"Operation start."

At the Roboré military airport, hundreds of kilometers away from Santa Cruz.

A Rainbow-7 high-altitude, long-endurance reconnaissance drone with a huge wingspan, the moment the order was given.

Taxied onto the runway, silently merged into the night sky, and flew toward La Paz.

It would be the first pair of eyes to reach the battlefield.

Ten minutes later.

At El Trompillo Airport, a piercing alarm sound tore through the night sky.

Eight JF-17 Thunder Block 3 fighter jets, painted with the Free Army emblem, taxied onto the main runway one after another under ground guidance.

Three of them were equipped with air-to-air missiles, responsible for escorting.

The other five were loaded with heavy laser-guided bombs and air-to-ground missiles under their wings, looking murderous.

"Thor One calling tower, requesting takeoff!"

"Takeoff permitted!"

Accompanied by a deafening roar, the tail nozzle of the first JF-17 Thunder Block 3 suddenly spewed out hot blue flames.

The fighter jet, like an arrow released from a bowstring, accelerated rapidly on the runway, lifted its nose, and whistled into the pitch-black night sky.

La Paz, the de facto capital of Bolivia. At this moment, most of the residents of this mountain city were already fast asleep.

Inside the Presidential Palace, the lights were bright.

President Hernán Siles paced irritably in his office; the movements of those rebels in Santa Cruz made it impossible for him to sleep or eat in peace.

Suddenly, a sharp, urgent telephone ring tore through the silence.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Mr. President! The radar station in the suburbs has detected unidentified flying objects! Quantity... at least eight! Approaching at high speed from the direction of Santa Cruz!"

On the other end of the line was the voice of Commander-in-Chief Behar, anxious to the point of distortion.

Celes felt a chill shoot from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.

"What about the air defense system? Where are our anti-aircraft missiles? Are they just for show!" He roared into the receiver, spitting everywhere.

"It has already been activated! But... but Mr. President, the enemy's speed is too fast!"

Almost at the same time, a piercing air raid siren rang out across the night sky of La Paz.

Countless citizens were awakened from their sleep, looking out the window in terror.

The air force base and various air defense positions in the suburbs instantly turned into a chaotic mess.

Soldiers rushed out of their barracks in disarray, throwing themselves into their battle stations amidst the roars of the officers.

"Quick! Quick! Enemy attack! Get moving, every damn one of you!"

A radar station technician stared fixedly at the red dots rapidly approaching on the screen, cold sweat dripping from his forehead in large drops.

"Report! Target characteristics... cannot be identified! It's not any model we know!"

"Damn it!" The Air Defense Commander slammed his fist onto the console. "Get the reconnaissance plane in the air! I want to see for myself what the hell is coming!"

The order was given, and a lone reconnaissance plane was urgently pushed onto the runway and scrambled into the air, attempting to peek at the true face of the enemy in the night.

In the underground command center of the Presidential Palace, the atmosphere was so oppressive that it could almost be squeezed out like water.

President Celes's face was livid as he stared fixedly at the red dots on the big screen representing the enemy aircraft.

Commander-in-Chief Behar and Deputy Commander-in-Chief Lorenzo stood behind him, their expressions equally grave.