One man's resistance against Japan, I mobilized a million people to aid Shanghai.

"So how did you escape back?"

Nimitz's eyes were like sharp knives, fixed on MacArthur.

This lieutenant general, who rose through the ranks from the bottom, doesn't seem easy to fool.

But MacArthur remained unperturbed. His expression merely darkened slightly, and with a wry smile, he pointed to his clothes and said:

"Isn't it obvious?"

"He barely survived, stole a fisherman's clothes, and fled in a sorry state under the protection of a few loyal subordinates. He was just lucky to be alive."

Nimitz stared at MacArthur for a long time, as if trying to see through MacArthur's inner secrets.

MacArthur met his gaze calmly.

Finally, Nimitz said with a hint of apology:

"So that's how it is."

"I was being too cautious."

MacArthur waved his hand slightly and said generously:

"It's alright, if it were me, I would do the same as you."

"However, you don't seem worried about Zhu Ganglie's powerful fleet. As far as I know, the Pacific Fleet doesn't seem to have the strength to defeat Zhu Ganglie's fleet head-on, does it?"

"Not now, but..."

Nimitz's voice was steady, even slightly relaxed.

"We'll have it in three days."

"What do you mean?" MacArthur asked, puzzled.

"Two battleships, eight heavy cruisers, twelve light cruisers, five aircraft carriers, and over a thousand carrier-based aircraft..."

"This is indeed a powerful fleet."

"Douglas, this intelligence is more valuable than any reconnaissance report. It confirms our worst estimates, but also... eliminates the biggest uncertainty."

Nimitz stood up, walked to a Pacific Ocean chart covered by a curtain on the wall, and suddenly pulled back the curtain.

On the map, the location of Pearl Harbor is now densely marked with new naval symbols.

He picked up the pointer stick.

"Douglas, you're right."

"If we use the Pacific Fleet's current strength in port to fight against such a fleet, especially in the Western Pacific where they are familiar with and may be lying in ambush, we will be in for a tough fight, and the outcome will be uncertain."

He abruptly changed the subject, slamming his pointer heavily on Pearl Harbor, "But..."

He turned his head, and for the first time, a smile appeared on his face—a confident smile.

"Three days, we just need to wait three more days."

"All reinforcements from the mainland will arrive."

"At that time, the Pacific Fleet assembled at Pearl Harbor will have: twelve aircraft carriers, five heavy cruisers, eight light cruisers, more than forty of the most advanced destroyers... and more than 1,300 carrier-based aircraft and shore-based long-range patrol aircraft."

With each number he announced, MacArthur's eyes widened a little more.

"Our carrier-based aircraft will surpass theirs in number, and in terms of quality, I believe our F4F, SBD, and TBD crews, after rigorous training, will not be inferior to any of our adversaries."

"Having more aircraft carriers means greater sustained strike capability and resilience."

"Our destroyers are newer, faster, and have stronger air defense and anti-submarine capabilities. More importantly, we have the world's strongest logistics capabilities."

"And the quality of Zhu Ganglie's soldiers is far inferior to ours."

"Our pilots and army have ample supplies to support their training. Can Zhu Ganglie and his men do the same?"

Halsey excitedly chimed in, saying:

"That's right! Douglas, a group of sailors with good weapons, and a well-trained, fully-organized navy are two different things!"

"Manila's attack was a surprise, taking advantage of the time difference."

"Once we deploy our forces for a decisive fleet battle on the high seas, our air force can tear them to shreds!"

After listening, MacArthur didn't pay attention to the nonsense about tearing Zhu Ganglie to pieces. Instead, he asked a seemingly insignificant question.

"You mean... a large number of warships will arrive in three days?"

"That's right!!"

"Eight aircraft carriers...two thousand aircraft...we will completely crush Zhu Ganglie!"

A glint flashed in MacArthur's eyes. "Three days later... two thousand planes..."

Seeing this, Nimitz assumed MacArthur was stunned by the astronomical figure and explained with a smile:

"President Roosevelt bet everything."

"Industrial potential is being translated into tangible warships and aircraft. This..."

"This is the American way of fighting, Douglas. You've come back just in time."

"Rest for three days, and see this fleet that is about to set sail with your own eyes. Then..."

His tone was resolute: "Come west with me."

"We need you; you are the one who understands Zhu Ganglie best."

"We need a victory to wash away the shame of Manila, stabilize the front in the Far East, and tell London and the world that the bald eagle has arrived, with the power to crush any hegemon."

Heading west together? To wash away the shame?

MacArthur's heart began to pound.

Having escaped from hell, he expected to face a military court trial and eternal shame.

But now, Nimitz has given him a chance to return to the battlefield and even take revenge himself?

MacArthur pondered for a long time before finally speaking:

"If the fleet truly possesses such power... then, Chester, you are right."

"Zhu Ganglie is not invincible. His fleet has expanded too rapidly and must have weaknesses."

"I am willing to provide everything I know."

"Very good." Nimitz nodded in satisfaction.

"I have arranged accommodation for you; it will be absolutely quiet and private."

"Just tell my adjutant what you need."

"Take these three days to recover properly. After that, we have plenty of battles to fight."

It seems the meeting should end.

MacArthur struggled to his feet, and as soon as he opened the door, his entourage rushed forward to help him, but he stopped them with a slight gesture.

He straightened his back, trying to regain some of his former composure, nodded to Nimitz and Halsey, and prepared to take his leave.

Just then, Nimitz's gaze inadvertently swept over the entourage behind MacArthur, lingering for a moment, especially on the three Asian men.

He asked, seemingly casually:

"Douglas, who are your...companions?"

MacArthur paused, turned around, and his expression was natural yet tinged with a hint of weariness and感慨.

"Oh, they... were my orderly and translator when I was in Manila."

"We are all second-generation immigrants. Our parents served the U.S. government and were very loyal to me."

"We were able to escape this time thanks to their familiarity with the local trails and fishing boats; they are all reliable young men."

"This is Li Yong. His father works at the post office, and he himself graduated from a local church school. His English is better than some Texans."

Nimitz said "Oh" and nodded, seemingly just asking casually without delving deeper.

In Manila, a place where sailors and workers of various ethnicities mingle, it's not uncommon to see a few Asian faces.

He just felt that MacArthur, as a defeated general, was incredibly lucky and capable to be able to navigate through layers of blockades with only a few followers, acquire a ship, and sail thousands of nautical miles back to Pearl Harbor accurately.

But then I thought, this might just be fate.

With a major battle imminent and the fleet's assembly a complex and multifaceted task, he couldn't possibly focus his energy on investigating a few insignificant surviving retainers.

"You must be tired from your journey, get some rest," Nimitz finally said, gesturing for his adjutant to see them out.

MacArthur nodded slightly again, and surrounded by his entourage, he slowly walked out of the temporary meeting room and disappeared around the corner of the headquarters corridor.

The door closed again.

Halsey stroked his chin and clicked his tongue:

"He's really in a sorry state, but... the news he brought back was timely enough. That bastard Zhu Ganglie is really well-off."

Nimitz did not respond immediately; he walked back to the chart, his gaze deep.

MacArthur's intelligence confirmed the enemy's strength, but it also gave him more confidence.

However, that brief glance, the calm, almost wooden gaze of the three Asian henchmen, and the fleeting awkwardness in MacArthur's explanation...

Like a very fine thorn, it gently pricked his wary heart.

"Bill,"

Nimitz spoke, his voice regaining the composure characteristic of a commander, "Have someone keep an eye on Douglas, don't let them run around."

Halsey paused, "General, are you worried about...?"

"Don't ask any questions, just execute the order!"

"yes!"

Halsey dared not utter a word and could only lead a group of men to guard the vicinity of MacArthur's residence.

Nimitz wasn't sure whether MacArthur was a man or a monster, but out of caution, he couldn't let MacArthur go unchecked.

As for how to deal with MacArthur, that's a matter for the White House; his job is to protect the security of Pearl Harbor.