135: Chapter 135 The Eagle Implodes! Trump: I Want to Do Business with China!
Pangu Laboratory, B2 Level, 00:38 AM.
The patrol track of the Xuanwu No. 0 aircraft was moving slowly on the top right of the main screen; the low-Earth orbit was clean, and the wreckage of the twelve tungsten rods had already fallen into the atmosphere and burned to ash.
Su Che walked back to the console from the assembly area and threw his heat-resistant gloves onto the table.
In the center of the hall, the docking of the fourth and fifth main beams was underway, and the hydraulic joints of the robotic arms emitted a uniform exhaust sound.
He pulled over his water cup and took a sip.
Lin Waner was sitting on a folding chair, her head leaning against the edge of an equipment box, already asleep, still holding that little notebook with the reading list in her arms.
Su Che took off his hoodie and draped it over her shoulders.
As he turned around, Jiang Yingxue's tablet chimed.
"The monitoring signal for Adam's air-raid shelter has been cut," Jiang Yingxue said, swiping on the tablet. "The core tracked a vehicle driving out from under the bridge, entering the VIP lane of Dulles International Airport twelve minutes later."
"He ran away?" Qin Lan leaned over from the terminal.
"A Gulfstream G700 took off in an emergency at 00:15, heading southwest without submitting a flight plan."
Su Che sat back in the swivel chair.
"Southwest direction, going to South America?"
"Or the Caribbean," Jiang Yingxue projected the track onto the main screen. "The Prometheus Family has six offshore trusts in the Cayman Islands."
Su Che didn't press for more.
Adam had run, but the Eagle Nation hadn't.
"Qin Lan, is there any movement from the Eagle Nation side?"
Qin Lan refreshed the tactical terminal.
"President Trump was secretly transferred from his estate in Florida to the White House underground bunker forty minutes ago. This is the first time he has returned to Washington since the activation of the Golden Dome."
Su Che placed his water cup on the table.
President Trump was back.
This president, who was the best at doing business in the whole world, was finally going to sit at the table himself.
...
01:00 AM.
Washington, White House underground bunker.
President Trump sat on a leather sofa, his suit jacket thrown to the side, his red tie hanging loosely around his neck.
On the coffee table in front of him was a battle damage report, and next to it was half a cup of unfinished Diet Coke.
Austin stood opposite, his shirt wrinkled, with a noticeable bruise under his left eye.
"Give me the main points," President Trump said, crossing his legs and tapping his fingertips on the sofa armrest.
"The combat effectiveness of the seven carrier strike groups is less than fifty percent. The USS Reagan and the Carl Vinson require at least eighteen months of shipyard repairs. The search and rescue for personnel from the twenty-one sunken ships is still ongoing."
"The Golden Dome array has a 47 percent overheating burnout rate, and the repair cycle is unknown. The Oppenheimer facility has physically collapsed and is irreparable. All Ame-no-Murakumo are destroyed, and the Rods from God..."
Austin paused, "All twelve were shot down."
President Trump looked up and stared straight at Austin.
"How much money did it cost?"
Austin was taken aback for a moment.
"The total budget for Operation Judgment Day was 340 billion USD. Adding the fleet losses and personnel compensation, the current hole is approximately..."
"The total."
"About 500 billion USD."
President Trump picked up the Diet Coke, took a sip, and set it down.
"500 billion, bought a pile of sunken ships and a magnitude 5 earthquake."
President Trump stood up and walked to the screen hanging on the wall.
The screen was playing CNN's scrolling news; the anchor was discussing the "strategic implications of the West Pacific naval battle" in a tone that was almost hysterical.
He pressed mute.
"What about Adam?"
Austin lowered his head.
"He left."
"Where did he go?"
"I don't know."
President Trump turned around.
"This bastard took the technology from the fragment, spent the budget I approved, fought a textbook-level defeat, and then ran away."
President Trump walked back to the sofa and sat down, picking up the Coke again.
"Call the Secretary of State."
"Now?"
"Now."
Austin turned and left.
President Trump sat alone in the bunker, looking at the battle damage report on the coffee table.
He had been doing business his whole life, and there was an iron rule: cutting losses is always more important than trying to break even.
...
Pangu Laboratory, B2 Level, 07:00 AM.
The fifth and sixth main beams completed their final micron-level calibration.
The robotic arms retreated.
252 meters, six sections of the skeleton were connected from end to end.
The hall couldn't fit something that long, so the last three sections were extended into the underground storage area next door through a large equipment channel reserved in the B2 level side wall to complete the splicing.
Su Che stood in front of the control console, and the 3D structure diagram on the screen turned from red to green.
All node stress tests passed.
All Anti-gravity coupling anchor points were online.
He didn't rush to look at the physical object.
In his mind, a blue-white panel popped up.
[Ding! Core load-bearing truss for the aerospace mothership detected — six-section full main beam splicing complete!]
[252-meter verification version main beam structural strength meets the standard, Anti-gravity field collaborative load-bearing efficiency verification passed!]
[Stealth battle robe full coverage progress: 100%.]
Su Che closed the panel.
He walked over to the force field workbench, poured a cup of warm water from a thermos, and drank it while standing.
Qin Lan pushed the door open and entered.
"Lieutenant General Peng is calling."
Su Che took the communication handset.
"The skeleton is finished," Su Che said.
"How long?"
"252 meters."
"Only less than seventy meters shorter than our Fujian." Lieutenant General Peng's voice was still hoarse, but his tone was much steadier. "What about the stealth suit?"
"It's all worn, adaptive, and can automatically adjust the stealth mode."
"What about the Xuanwu?"
"No. 0 aircraft is patrolling in orbit, the production line is running, and the first batch of twenty aircraft is expected to roll off the line in fifteen days."
Su Che took a sip of water.
"General, the shell and clothes for the 10,000-ton verification version are almost ready, but the inside is still empty. The power, command and control, and weapon systems haven't been installed yet, and the Anti-gravity load system hasn't undergone integration testing."
"How much longer do you estimate?"
Su Che went through the checklist in his mind.
The engines were ready-made; the technology for the Adaptive Variable Cycle Aerospace Engine had long been obtained, but to match the 252-meter giant platform, thrust allocation and installation debugging needed to be redone.
The Anti-gravity load system was the core of the core; without it, this bone was just a display piece.
The command and control system was even more complex; the integrated command center needed deep embedding of the Yiren AI Core.
"Conservatively estimated, one month at the fastest," Su Che put down the water cup.
"One month is too long," Lieutenant General Peng paused. "On the Eagle Nation side, President Trump has returned to the White House. Our intelligence shows he is gathering core aides, possibly to negotiate, or possibly holding his last breath."
"That can't be rushed either," Su Che pulled over a swivel chair and sat down. "For a 252-meter-long aerial fortress, the nerves and blood vessels inside are ten times harder to assemble than the bones. Rushing to build a piece of junk that falls apart after flying for half a day is not as good as spending two more weeks to build one that can fight."
Lieutenant General Peng didn't urge him further.
"Fine, you set your own pace, but there is some news you need to know."
"Speak."
"Commander-in-Chief Wang Xueshan will arrive at Pangu in three hours."
"What is he bringing?"
"People."
Lieutenant General Peng paused.
"The team of academicians, all of them."
Su Che almost dropped the communicator in his hand.
The last time more than fifty academicians gathered was when they were working on the Quantum Lithography Machine. What were they going to do this time?
"The Nantianmen Project has been designated as a 'National No. 1 Project'," Lieutenant General Peng's voice dropped half a tone.
"Dean Liu Huaqiang is leading it, and Academician Qian Zhenhua, Academician Wen Bo, and Academician Li Zhengyang are all on the list. Materials, power, avionics, structure, AI—there is an academician working group for every direction, fully cooperating with you."
Su Che leaned back in the chair.
"I can assemble the skeleton and clothes by myself, but the blood vessels and nerves really need help."
"Not help," Lieutenant General Peng corrected. "It's your team. You are the chief engineer; they listen to you."
The communication cut off.
Su Che placed the handset on the table.
Lin Waner had stayed up too late with him last night and still hadn't woken up.
She turned over on the folding chair, the hoodie slid off her shoulder, and she reached out to grab it in a daze but missed.
Su Che walked over and draped the clothes back on.
When he returned to the console, he opened the monitoring interface for the Xuanwu production line on the terminal.
In the automated workshop next door, a gantry crane was grabbing the frame of the second Xuanwu shell.
The carbon fiber and silicon carbide emitted a slight hum under the laser cutting.
One is not enough.
Twenty is not enough.
One hundred is just the beginning.
Su Che added a note to the production queue.
[No. 0 aircraft combat data has been transmitted back. Starting from No. 2 aircraft, all will be pre-installed with the full version of the Yiren AI control core.]
He hit enter.
Jiang Yingxue's voice came from the side.
"The landing site of Adam's plane was tracked last night."
Su Che turned his head.
"Cayman Islands?"
"No." Jiang Yingxue stared at the tablet, the end of the track on the screen marked on the west side of the South American continent.
"Chile, Atacama Desert."
Su Che's hand rested on the keyboard.
Atacama.
The world's largest astronomical telescope array was built in that desert.
"He went to look at the stars?"
"Not to look at stars." Jiang Yingxue pushed the tablet over.
On the screen, the Yiren AI Core marked a coordinate, an undisclosed facility deep in the Atacama Desert, codenamed "God's Revelation".
The core's note had only one line.
[The energy signature of this facility matches the original signal of the "apocalypse fragment" by 99.1%.]
Su Che withdrew his hand from the keyboard.
The old home of the fragment.
Adam hadn't run; he had gone back to get the last fragment.