What the hell is a private enterprise?

Chapter 392 Waiting for the Rainy Season
"Madmen, they really are a bunch of madmen."

A pile of scattered and deformed wreckage was reassembled and put back in place on the Enterprise. The tail section was still roughly recognizable, while the nose and cockpit were almost completely destroyed.

Brooke leaned closer incredulously at the makeshift stool made of thin aluminum tubing, imagining what it would be like to sit on it and drive the thing:
It was incredibly awkward; my butt hurt so badly after sitting for just an hour.

To achieve extreme weight reduction, even the chair was downgraded?

The inspection results for the nose section have also been released. Apart from the rudimentary instruments, radio, and warning device, there is only the cone-shaped warhead tucked into the original radar position.

Would a top-tier pilot, capable of flying at an extremely low altitude of 5 meters in the dark, be sent into a one-way battle in this monster?

What's the difference between this and Schumacher becoming a motorcycle taxi driver?
And that's thirty, thirty Schumachers!

Not to mention Brooke, Fern and Calvin were also heartbroken.

If the Enterprise had 30 such pilots, it would be enough to carry out any dangerous mission safely.

But what's even more distressing is the ammunition:
The fighter jets were relatively well-equipped, but the warships consumed a total of 114 Standard series missiles.

Although theoretically the main fleet had a total of more than 500 missiles in reserve across all cruisers, destroyers and frigates, nearly half of them were anti-ship missiles, with less than 300 Standard series missiles. 40% of them were used up in World War I.

Based on the purchase price, these 114 missiles alone are worth $1 million.

The amount of money was insignificant to the Empire, after all, they had used $100 million worth of Tomahawk missiles to attack tents before, but the problem was that replenishing missiles was best done in port, as it was difficult to hoist them up during combat.

In theory, the standard series of missiles should be able to easily strike tiny flies, but when faced with the terrifyingly low-altitude tactics, the interception rate is only slightly over 20%.

If only one missile is intercepted, the interception rate will be only 11%, which is a drop to the level of the 50s.

Perhaps we can easily suppress them now with aircraft carriers, but what if we can't deploy carrier-based aircraft when we get to Antarctica?
Another major problem exposed is the lack of close-in defense missiles within a 15-kilometer range, making it completely impossible to intercept attacks.

The South Atlantic route had few cargo ships, and because the battle took place at night, it remained out of public view.

After thick reports and various suggestions were sent back to the mainland, Fern not only urged the IAA again, but also called the HMS Clemenceau carrier strike group, which was about to arrive in Guyana.

After repeatedly backing down, Fern finally decided to approach the shore and destroy their stronghold in one fell swoop.

However, this was out of necessity, because powerful destroyers are unable to effectively intercept ultra-low-altitude penetration tactics, and can only rely on aircraft carriers to exert their combat power.

Maintaining fighter shifts at night could lead to accidents. Although he hadn't read the proverb "guard against thieves for a thousand days," Fern knew that he had to take the initiative to resolve the crisis.

……

Hong Kong.

After heated discussions, the bigwigs at the top will definitely use "Above the Moon"... no, "The Moon Palace Breaking the Formation Song" at the naval review.

After successfully establishing his artist persona, Tang Wen retreated to his hotel and began to devise his next strategy:
The suppressive power of carrier-based fighter jets is too strong.

The first harassment operation revealed two things: shipborne missiles are greatly affected by radar, and aircraft carriers have absolute dominance over the skies.

During the day, two more Gnats probed the formation's movements one after the other, but both were relentlessly attacked by F-18s, only obtaining information that the formation was approaching the shore.

Clearly, Fern hoped to use this move to find "ashore air bases".

Since that's the case, Tang Wen decided to grant their wish:

U-69 was already roaming near the coast, heading directly south from the outer coast of Suriname, entering the Amazon River at its northern estuary, and then into its rainforested northeastern regions. The second day's attack waves wouldn't need to be too numerous, since the main combat force this time was aircraft, and exhausting the carrier's air-to-air missile reserves would be somewhat difficult.

When operating alone, the only way to weaken carrier-based aircraft is to wait for a change in the weather, preferably a major storm or typhoon.

There is a lot of rain here, but the South Atlantic is mostly calm.

By eavesdropping on the South Atlantic weather forecast, a large-scale thunderstorm is expected in three days. If the Enterprise battle group happens to be within range at that time, it will be an excellent opportunity to attack.

……

"With Ying?"

The analytical reports and photographs placed on Johnson's and the Office of Naval Intelligence's desks shocked everyone.

Even ME262, how could it be something like a gnat? And how did AIM-9 end up here?!

As for the attrition of ace pilots, it was considered a minor matter, because Director York of the Paranormal Investigation Bureau had already suspected that the Second Fleet had mastered cloning technology and was using people as expendable resources.

If they could abandon nearly ten thousand sailors, then a mere few dozen pilots seemed even less important.

Johnson was extremely dissatisfied and berated Fern:

"You have wasted $7 million worth of missiles and possess seven DDGs, yet you were still attacked. It is an utter disgrace."

Enraged by Johnson's outburst, the IAA and the Office of Naval Intelligence began investigating the suspicious circumstances surrounding the May 5.28 night battle:
The "Gnat" fighter jet and AIM-9 are too conspicuous; we should first investigate their technological origins.

First, there's AIM-9, which can be identified locally:

Raytheon examined the wreckage and ultimately concluded that it was a very early, rudimentary model from before the 60s, making any investigation into technology leaks pointless.
The early AIM-9B was not only technically simple, but it was later copied by the Russians into the K-13, and then the University of Tokyo copied it into the PL-2. It is found all over the world. Maybe the Second Fleet copied the latter two?

Then there are mosquitoes and gnats:
The Flanders company that manufactured mosquito gnats was acquired by Hawke Sidley decades ago. In the 70s, Hawke was split up and merged into British Aerospace. The production lines and data have long since disappeared, and the engineers have been retired for more than a decade.

Only the Indian brother bought a lot and introduced the production line, so the main suspect is the Indian brother. Although the British side is also being investigated, they are not the priority target.

Especially in the 50s, many Han aircraft designers and aircraft companies that had fled to Argentina moved to India after failing to establish themselves there. Among them was the famous Dr. Tanker.

Tan Ke was the designer of the FW190 and Ta183. Records show that he left India and returned to China in the late 60s, but it is entirely possible that he obtained or even participated in the design and modification of the mosquito grubs before that.

The IAA immediately mobilized its personnel to go to India, and Smith was among them.

But the moment the plane landed and the cabin door opened, Smith couldn't help but frown.

As he walked onto the covered bridge, he glanced at the luggage carts below, and next to them... there was an Indian guy taking a dump?
Damn it, my suitcase!

The moment he entered the waiting hall, an indescribable stench of sweat and odor, permeated with spices, hit him, causing even this super agent, who had spent 60 days lurking in the swamp, to feel a surge of nausea and almost vomit.

"Shet!"

He had just muttered a curse under his breath, and then he completely broke down:
A woman in a long skirt suddenly squatted down in front of the flowerpot, and before he could react, he smelled a foul stench.

Smith took a deep breath, held it, and ran out of the airport as if fleeing.

(End of this chapter)