156: Chapter 156 The End of the Invisible Myth

"Then activate it." Zhang Cheng stood up and walked to the massive holographic tactical display. "Order the 'Sky Dome' system to have all 'Sentinel-3' radars enter silent standby mode and receive signals in passive mode. Have the 'Thunder-2' missile battalion switch to anti-radiation warheads. I want them to take out those annoying satellite supports before the B-2s drop their bombs."

Zhao Yuxun was somewhat worried. "Sovereign, attacking satellites... that's an escalation of war. Won't it invite even more intense retaliation?"

"If they dare use satellite support in combat, they must be prepared to be attacked," Zhang Cheng sneered. "Besides, we aren't hitting the satellites themselves, but their signal repeaters. The 'Vega' system will simulate the illusion of satellites being interfered with by 'natural electromagnetic storms.' The Americans won't be able to find out the truth."

He paused and added, "As for the B-2s and F-22s... Old K, are those 'gifts' ready?"

"All in place." Red light flickered in Old K's eyes. "Twelve sets of 'Vega' dedicated anti-stealth modules have been deployed in key areas. These modules will emit millimeter waves at specific frequencies to create resonance on the surface of stealth aircraft, significantly increasing their radar cross-section. Combined with the 'Sentinel-3' radar, the detection range can be increased from one hundred and twenty kilometers to three hundred kilometers."

"Very well." Zhang Cheng looked at the sky in the east, which was gradually turning white. "Then let's prepare a grand welcoming ceremony for our guests from afar."

5:40 AM, in the skies over eastern Myanmar.

Inside the cockpit of the B-2 "Spirit" stealth bomber, the "Spirit of Missouri," pilot Major Thomas Hudson glanced at the navigation screen. They were four hundred kilometers from the target area; everything was going smoothly. The onboard AN/APQ-181 low-probability-of-intercept radar was already on, scanning for the positions of air defense batteries in the Meiktila region.

"Spirit One, this is 'Eagle's Nest,' report status."

"Spirit One normal, altitude 12,000, speed Mach 0.8, estimated to enter attack position in seven minutes. Electronic warfare systems show strong ground interference below, but the 'Starlink' support signal is stable."

"Received. The 'Raptor' flight is escorting you fifty kilometers behind. Execute as planned."

"Copy that."

Hudson switched communication channels and said to the weapons officer in the back seat, "Dave, is the target data entered?"

"Data entered," replied the weapons officer, Dave Miller. "First wave targets: Zhang Cheng's command center, the 'Sky Dome' system's main radar station, and three artillery positions. The GBU-39s are powered up, and the release sequence is ready."

Inside the B-2's bomb bay, eighty Small Diameter Bombs hung neatly. Each bomb weighed 113 kilograms and used GPS/INS composite guidance, with a circular error probable of no more than three meters. Theoretically, this single wave of attack would be enough to paralyze Zhang Cheng's command structure.

But just then, the warning lights in the cockpit suddenly flared to life!

"Warning! Radar lock! Warning! Missile inbound!"

"What?!" Hudson's eyes widened. "That's impossible! We're stealth—"

Before he could finish, the onboard electronic warfare system let out a piercing shriek: "'Starlink' signal interrupted! GPS navigation failed! Inertial navigation system is drifting!"

Almost simultaneously, Dave cried out from the back seat, "The fire control system has gone black! The release sequence won't start!"

"Damn it!" Hudson yanked the control stick, and the B-2 began a violent maneuver. "Deploy countermeasures! Activate active electronic counter-countermeasures!"

Chaff and infrared flares were ejected from the belly, blooming into a rain of light in the dawn. But the shriek of the radar warning receiver didn't diminish at all; instead, it grew more rapid—it wasn't just one missile, but at least six, closing in from different directions!

"Spirit One under missile attack! Requesting 'Raptor' support! Repeat, requesting sup—"

The communication suddenly cut off.

It wasn't being jammed; rather, all frequencies of the onboard communication system were completely overwhelmed by a powerful, chaotic signal. Hudson desperately tried to tune the frequency, but there was only static in his headset.

"Dave, manually restart all systems! Fast!"

"I'm trying... it's no use! All electronic equipment is failing! This isn't ordinary jamming, this is... this is an electronic attack!"

Hudson looked out the window; several white smoke trails appeared in the distant sky—the wakes of anti-air missiles, approaching at a staggering speed.

Speed display: Mach 7.

"My God..." he muttered.

Fifty kilometers behind, the F-22 "Raptor" flight.

The lead pilot, Lieutenant Colonel James Walker, was also in trouble.

A minute ago, his onboard APG-77 radar had clearly shown the position of the B-2 ahead and dozens of ground-based air defense radar signals below. But now, the screen was a mess of snow; the radar had failed completely. Even worse, the data link was down, communication was cut, and even the most basic radio navigation signals had vanished.

"All units, report status!" he roared over the encrypted channel.

"Raptor Two, radar failure, electronic warfare system overloaded!"

"Raptor Three, same situation, all electronic equipment is in a reboot loop!"

"Number Four..."

"Number Five..."

All six F-22s had become "blind" and "deaf."

Walker grit his teeth and switched to the backup communication frequency—a preset emergency channel that, in theory, couldn't be jammed. But what came through the headset was a male voice speaking English with a Southeast Asian accent:

"Good morning, Raptor pilots. This is Zhang Cheng. You now have three minutes to make a choice: First, turn back and return to base, and I guarantee I won't fire on retreating aircraft; second, continue forward and be shot down. The timer starts now."

"Screw you!" Walker cursed, but a chill rose in his heart.

How did Zhang Cheng know their emergency frequency? How could he cut directly into their internal communications?

This was no longer electronic jamming; this was... an electronic intrusion.

"Captain, what do we do?" the wingman asked, his voice laced with obvious panic.

Walker looked at the flashing fault lights on the instrument panel, then at the B-2 flight ahead that had already fallen into chaos, knowing the mission had failed. Forcing a penetration without radar, a data link, or communications was equivalent to suicide.

"All units, emergency breakaway! Jettison external tanks, maximum afterburner, climb to twenty thousand meters and return to base!"

"What about the B-2s...?"

"We can't worry about them!" Walker bellowed. "Execute orders!"

The six F-22s pulled up their noses simultaneously, engines engaging afterburners as they climbed frantically toward high altitude. They abandoned all external stores and even fired off all their decoys at once, just to fight for a sliver of hope for survival.

But Zhang Cheng gave them no such chance.

On the ground, at the "Sky Dome" system command center.

Wang Yuanshan looked at the light dots on the radar screen attempting to flee and calmly ordered, "'Thunder-2' battalion, fire all missiles. Target: all aerial units. Priority order: B-2, then F-22."

"Understood! Launch!"

Twenty-four TY-2 missiles launched simultaneously, drawing twenty-four trails of death across the morning sky.

These missiles used active radar/infrared dual-mode seekers, allowing them to maintain a lock even under heavy electronic interference.