374: Chapter 374 European Defence Integration

Cracks in NATO Headquarters

In Brussels during August, the sunlight was so intense that it was hard to keep one's eyes open. The NATO headquarters building is situated on Leopold III Boulevard, a modern structure in cold gray tones. Its exterior walls are made of steel and glass, with lines as hard and sharp as a fortress. In front of the building, nineteen member state flags fluttered in the breeze—the American Stars and Stripes, the British Union Jack, the German Black-Red-Gold tricolor, the French Blue-White-Red... At the top of the poles, the flags snapped in the wind, as if recounting the glories and cracks of this military alliance over the past seventy years.

But today, there seemed to be something more in the wind.

Inside the press conference hall, the light from crystal chandeliers spilled over deep blue seats, which reporters had occupied early on. A tense atmosphere permeated the air, like the sweltering heat before a storm. Camera lenses were aimed at the podium, and flashes flickered constantly. On the large screen, the NATO compass emblem was exceptionally prominent.

At exactly ten o'clock, the side door opened.

Five people walked out—German Secretary of Defense Annegret Kramp led the way; at sixty years old, she had silver hair, a solemn expression, and her deep blue suit was meticulously pressed. Behind her was French Secretary of Defense Florence Parly, fifty-five, in a black suit with a sharp gaze. The Secretaries of Defense from Italy, the Netherlands, and Spain walked side by side with steady steps and resolute expressions.

NATO Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg followed last, his face ashen and his lips tightly pursed.

The five stood on the podium, with Kramp in the center. She braced her hands on the edge of the lectern, her gaze sweeping across the room. She took a deep breath, her voice low and steady:

"Today, the Federal Republic of Germany, the French Republic, the Italian Republic, the Kingdom of the Netherlands, and the Kingdom of Spain jointly announce the formation of the 'European Rapid Reaction Force'."

The large screen behind her lit up, showing a title in white text on a blue background, forming a sharp contrast with NATO's signature deep blue:

European Rapid Reaction Force

Scale: Initial batch of 50,000 personnel (expandable to 100,000)

Composition: 2 mechanized divisions for the Army, 1 task force for the Navy (including 1 helicopter carrier, 3 frigates, 2 supply ships), and 1 mixed wing for the Air Force (including fighters, early warning aircraft, and transport planes)

Mission: Defending member states' security, participating in European Union joint defense actions, and responding to hybrid threats

Command: Independent from NATO, headquartered in Berlin with a joint command center

The reporters below erupted into an uproar, the sound of shutters as dense as a rainstorm. A British reporter raised a hand: "Secretary Kramp, what is the relationship between the European Rapid Reaction Force and NATO?"

Kramp tilted her chin slightly: "Complementary. But when necessary, it can act independently."

Another French reporter followed up: "Does this mean Europe is seeking to break away from American military protection?"

Florence Parly took over the question, her voice clear and cool: "It is time for Europe to take responsibility for its own security. It has been seventy years; we can no longer leave our fate in the hands of others."

NATO Secretary General Stoltenberg stood to the side, his expression growing increasingly grim. He tried to speak, but Kramp had already moved on to the next question.

The American representative—a senior diplomat in his fifties—sat in the front row, his face livid. He stood up, grabbed his briefcase, and walked toward the side door without a word. Reporters noticed his movement and turned their heads one after another.

A reporter from The Wall Street Journal chased after him: "Mr. Ambassador, what does the United States think?"

The American representative didn't look back, his voice cold: "No comment."

The side door slammed shut.

The hall fell silent for three seconds, and then a buzz of discussion broke out.

Jean-Pierre, a reporter from Le Monde sitting in the back row, watched the scene and said to Anna, a reporter from the Financial Times next to him: "Seventy years. From 1949 until today, this is the first time NATO has been slapped in the face by its own member states."

Anna shook her head: "It's not a slap. It's a breakup. The Americans have been stationed in Europe for seventy years; it's time for them to go."

At two o'clock the following afternoon, on the outskirts of Berlin.

This military base is located on the edge of a forest in Brandenburg. Spanning a vast area, it was an important stronghold for NATO's Allied Command Europe during the Cold War. The tall barbed-wire fences, concrete watchtowers, and armored vehicle lanes all spoke of the tension that once existed here. But today, the base was filled with a completely different mood—excitement, pride, and a hint of indescribable relief.

Sunlight filtered through the clouds onto the vast parade ground. The Secretaries of Defense from the five nations stood on the reviewing stand, backed by their respective military advisors and accompanying officials. Directly opposite the stand, rows of brand-new weapons and equipment were lined up in neat formations, the steel glinting coldly in the sun.

German Secretary Kramp stood in the center of the stand, binoculars in hand, her gaze sweeping over the equipment. French Secretary Parly stood beside her with her arms crossed, a slight smile on her lips.

Below the stand, military equipment from Xingchen Technology made its first organized appearance in Europe:

sabertooth hx-30 Main Battle Tanks: One hundred units, with low-profile hulls and barrels raised high. Their composite armor was covered with reactive modules, and the optoelectronic aiming systems on the turrets glinted in the sunlight. Each tank weighed sixty-five tons and was equipped with an 1,800-horsepower diesel engine, capable of reaching speeds of seventy-five kilometers per hour on roads.

Lynx V-25 Multi-role Combat Vehicles: Two hundred units, divided into three types—infantry fighting, anti-aircraft, and anti-tank. The hulls were painted in camouflage, and the weapon stations on the roofs were equipped with 30mm autocannons and anti-tank missiles.

Peregrine S-15 Air Defense Systems: Forty sets, each consisting of one phased-array radar vehicle and four missile launcher vehicles. The radars were slowly rotating, searching the sky.

Xuanniao Intelligent Attack Aircraft: Twenty planes parked at the end of the runway, with slender fuselages and wide wingspans. Their stealth coating appeared a dull gray in the sunlight. The belly weapon bays were open, displaying the precision-guided munitions inside.

Kramp put down her binoculars and picked up a walkie-talkie: "Initiate the data link demonstration."

The large screen on the reviewing stand lit up, displaying real-time footage from the Tianting Starlink. On the screen, the precise location of every tank, every combat vehicle, every air defense system, and every fighter jet was presented as a point of light, with their movement trajectories clearly visible. In the bottom right corner, data streams refreshed at millisecond speeds—position, speed, fuel, ammunition, and weapon status; all information was fully available.

"Simulate enemy aircraft entering the airspace," Kramp's voice announced over the speakers to the entire field.

On the screen, a red light point entered the airspace from the northeast at an altitude of eight thousand meters, a speed of Mach 0.8, and a southwest heading.

The Peregrine air defense system's radar achieved a lock within 0.3 seconds. Fire control data was transmitted via Starlink to all combat units simultaneously. On the large screen, a blue data link stretched from the radar vehicle to the command center, and then from the command center to the Xuanniao aircraft at the end of the runway.

"Peregrine system locked, data synchronization complete," the voice of the command center came over the broadcast.

At the end of the runway, the engine of a Xuanniao attack aircraft began to roar, its tailpipe spewing orange-red flames. The jet taxied out of the parking bay, accelerated, and took off—the entire process taking less than forty seconds.

On the large screen, the blue data link connected to the Xuanniao aircraft. Guided by the Starlink, the jet flew toward the target along the most optimal route. On the screen, the distance between the aircraft's light point and the red enemy light point was constantly shrinking.

Thirty seconds later, the Xuanniao aircraft reached the firing position.

"Simulated launch."

On the screen, a blue missile light point detached from the aircraft, trailing a wake as it flew toward the red target.

Hit.

The red light point vanished.

The entire field erupted in thunderous applause.

Kramp put down the walkie-talkie and turned to Parly beside her: "This system is five times faster than NATO's Link-16 data link. Latency has dropped from seconds to milliseconds, and precision from meters to centimeters. And—"

She paused, her gaze sharp: "It is not under American control."

Parly nodded, her voice calm: "Europe finally has its own eyes and ears. We are no longer a vassal of the United States."

Kramp looked toward the distant tank formations, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly: "From today on, European defense will be decided by Europe itself."

At eight o'clock that evening, the Berlin Chancellery.

Located in the center of Berlin, this building is the new Chancellery used after Germany's reunification and the move back from Bonn. The modern glass curtain wall forms a sharp contrast with the nearby Reichstag building, symbolizing the rise of a new Germany. At the main entrance of the Chancellery, the German flag fluttered in the night wind, surrounded by heavy security.

Merkel stood in the Chancellery's press briefing room, with the German and European Union flags behind her. She wore a Crimson suit jacket, her face calm and her gaze steady. The room was packed with reporters, and the red lights of the cameras flickered.

"Today, the Federal Republic of Germany, the French Republic, the Italian Republic, the Kingdom of the Netherlands, and the Kingdom of Spain jointly declare—" Her voice was steady and powerful, each word hammered into the air like a nail, "that we will officially withdraw from the North Atlantic Treaty Organization in 2025. Over a five-year transition period, we will gradually exit the NATO military integrated command structure and reclaim our defense sovereignty."

She paused, her gaze sweeping the room, and then slowly uttered the words: "European security must be the responsibility of Europe itself."

At the same time, at the Élysée Palace in Paris.

The palace is the official residence of the French President, with its gray stone exterior walls, golden railings, and French gardens—elegant and solemn. Macron stood in the banquet hall of the Élysée Palace, the French flag behind him. He was forty-two, in his prime, with bright eyes and a voice carrying the passion of a revolutionary.

"NATO is brain dead," he said, a phrase he had uttered two years ago, only to be mocked by everyone at the time. "Now, it is time to bury it. Europe needs its own defense, its own army, and its own command system. We cannot depend on American protection forever. America is too far away, while Russia is too close."

He paused, his tone becoming even more resolute: "Today, we have taken the first step."

In Rome, at the Quirinal Palace, the Italian Prime Minister stood on the balcony, facing the crowds gathered in the square, and made the same announcement.

In Madrid, at the Moncloa Palace, the Spanish Prime Minister read the joint statement at a press conference.

In Amsterdam, at the Binnenhof, the Dutch Prime Minister delivered the statement to Parliament, receiving a standing ovation from the entire house.

The five countries acted in synchronization, like a meticulously choreographed symphony.

Washington.

The White House press briefing room was empty; on the deep blue backdrop, the presidential seal glinted gold under the lights. The press conference originally scheduled for tonight had been canceled, leaving only a few duty staff in the room, idly scrolling through their phones.

The White House Press Secretary's office was on the third floor, and the lights were still on. He sat at his computer, staring at the five-nation joint statement on the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unable to type a single word. Ten minutes later, he pressed the intercom: "Just send an email."

The email contained only one sentence: "We have noted the statement from the five nations. We are currently evaluating."

No anger, no threats, no countermeasures. Only silence.

In the West Wing of the White House, the lights in the Oval Office were still on. The President sat behind his desk, watching Merkel's speech in Berlin on the television screen. He had muted the sound, simply watching Merkel's lips move.

Beside him, the National Security Advisor stood holding an assessment report.

"Mr. President, these five countries account for sixty percent of Europe's GDP, fifty-five percent of its population, and sixty percent of its military. If they leave NATO, NATO will exist in name only."

The President was silent for a long time before asking, "What do we do?"

The National Security Advisor also remained silent.

Outside the window, the stars in the Washington night sky were dim.

Brussels.

The lights in the NATO headquarters building were still on. Stoltenberg sat in his office, the full text of the five-nation joint statement spread out before him. He had read it three times, and each time he felt his throat tighten.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number of the US Secretary of Defense.

"Mr. Secretary, we need to talk."

There was a long silence on the other end, followed by a weary voice: "Jens, there's nothing we can do. If the Europeans want to leave, let them go."

Stoltenberg hung up the phone and looked out the window. The night in Brussels was deep, and in the distance, the lights of Xingchen's European headquarters were exceptionally bright.

He suddenly remembered a detail—this afternoon's military demonstration, Xingchen's equipment, the Tianting Starlink data link, the five defense ministers. None of it was accidental. From the establishment of Xingchen's European headquarters to the formation of the European Rapid Reaction Force, and finally the five nations announcing their withdrawal from NATO, this was a meticulously designed roadmap.

And standing at the end of that roadmap was not the leader of any European country, but a thirty-year-old young man from Huaxia.

Stoltenberg closed his eyes and murmured, "Su Chen, what is it that you actually want?"

No one answered.

Outside the window, the night breeze of Brussels brushed past the flagpoles of the EU headquarters, the flags snapping in the wind. Five hundred meters away, the flag of Xingchen's European headquarters was also fluttering in the breeze.

Su Chen sat in his office, looking at the news coming from Europe. Lin Wan stood to the side, holding a tablet, her face filled with an excitement she couldn't hide.

"President Su, Germany, France, Italy, the Netherlands, and Spain have simultaneously announced they will withdraw from NATO in 2025."

Su Chen nodded, his gaze as calm as water: "As expected."

Lin Wan couldn't help but ask, "How did you know?"

Su Chen picked up his teacup, took a sip, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly: "Because the Europeans have waited seventy years, and they've finally found someone who can replace the United States. And we gave them that choice."

Outside the window, the moonlight cast a silver glow over the waters of Shenzhen Bay. In the distance, a freighter slowly passed by, its whistle sounding long and low.

Su Chen set down his teacup and said softly, "Defense is only the beginning. Next comes politics, economy, and culture. The awakening of the Europeans has only just begun."