World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"What?" Rodman asked casually.

"We've got something big!" Litt's voice rose again. "General, you're an expert, so let me tell you something—these 'Bismarck-class' ships we're building now are just appetizers. The real thing..."

He suddenly stopped, as if realizing he had said too much, and quickly covered his mouth.

Rodman's heart raced. He poured Little a glass of water: "General Little, you've had too much to drink. Would you like to rest for a bit?"

"No, no need." Lee Te took the water, drank a few mouthfuls, and seemed to sober up a bit. "Sorry, I lost my composure. Just pretend you didn't hear what I said earlier."

"What did you say?" Rodman smiled. "I only remember we were having a friendly exchange."

Li Te gave him a grateful look, then changed the subject: "By the way, what are your plans for tomorrow, General? If you'd like to visit other places, I can arrange that."

Rodman thought for a moment: "We originally planned to continue the exchange tomorrow, but I just received news that there are some urgent matters with the Pacific Fleet that require my attention. So... I may have to return to port first thing tomorrow morning."

"So soon?" Li Te looked regretful. "I wanted to show the general our air station and radar center."

"Maybe next time," Rodman said. "I'll definitely come back next time and take a good look."

The dinner ended at nine o'clock. Rodman left early, citing "preparing to set sail the next morning." Li Te saw him to the door and shook hands with him goodbye.

"General Li, thank you again for your warm hospitality," Rodman said. "This visit has been very beneficial to me."

"General, you're too kind. Have a safe journey."

After Rodman drove away, the drunkenness on Little's face vanished instantly. He returned to the club and went into a small conference room. Wang Wenwu was already waiting inside.

"How is it?" Wang Wenwu asked.

"The fish has taken the bait." Li Te sat down and took a sip of strong tea. "He saw the dock and heard my 'drunken slip of the tongue.' He'll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning, eager to get back and report."

"The things in the dock..."

"It's just an empty shell." Li Te laughed. "We built a frame out of steel plates, and there's nothing inside. But the dimensions are designed for a 50,000-ton super battleship, and the materials used are thickened steel plates, so it looks real. Plus, those specially arranged 'scraps' and 'large components'... that's enough to make him believe it."

Wang Wenwu laughed as well: "The President's move was brilliant. He demonstrated 'strength' without actually revealing the aircraft carrier's secrets. Once Rodman goes back and tells them, those guys in Washington will have to reassess for at least six months."

"But be careful." Li Te became serious. "The people of Milica aren't stupid. They'll verify and analyze. We need to play the part completely—maintain a healthy level of mystery around that 'super dock,' occasionally 'leaking' some half-truths, but not letting them find any solid evidence."

"It's all arranged," Wang Wenwu said. "Starting tomorrow, the security level at that shipyard will be raised by one level. All personnel entering and leaving will be subject to double checks. At the same time, we'll have the intelligence department 'accidentally' leak some vague information about the '50,000-ton warship design'."

Li nodded: "Also, notify the submarine force that after Rodman's fleet leaves tomorrow, send two submarines to 'escort' them for a while."

"clear."

The two discussed some more details until late at night.

At six o'clock the next morning, the battleship USS Arizona weighed anchor and left port.

Rodman stood on the bridge, watching Dubai gradually disappear into the distance. In the morning light, the city's outline became clear—modern buildings, a bustling port, massive oil tanks, and a mysterious shipyard in the distance.

"General, the telegraph office has received an inquiry from Washington about the visit," the communications officer reported.

"Reply: The visit went smoothly and we obtained important information. A detailed report will be submitted upon our return," Rodman said.

He turned and went into the chart room behind the bridge, spread out the nautical log, and began drafting a preliminary report for the Navy Department and the President. But he stopped after writing a few lines—some information could not be included in a potentially intercepted telegram.

He walked to the porthole and looked out at the azure waters of the Persian Gulf. The scenes from yesterday kept replaying in his mind: the three Bismarck-class battleships, the advanced training facilities, the efficient logistics system, and... that mysterious large shipyard.

And the thing Lee Teuk said when he was drunk: "A real big shot."

A super battleship exceeding 50,000 tons. If this is true, then the ambition and strength of the Lanfang Navy far exceed Meilika's previous estimates.

What's even more frightening is what consequences would arise if such a country were forced to take sides?

Rodman recalled Chen Feng's warning in Hawaii: "If Meilika joins the fight, Lanfang will too."

At the time, he thought it was just a bluff. But now, having witnessed Lanfang's strength firsthand, he realized that it might not be a threat, but a warning.

"General," the adjutant entered, "report from the sonar room: two underwater contacts spotted, bearing 280, approximately five nautical miles apart. They are moving very slowly and appear to be tracking us."

Rodman immediately went to the sonar room. The sonar operator reported that two targets were faintly visible, maintaining distance and moving in sync.

"It's a submarine," the sonar chief said. "Judging from the signal characteristics, it's not any known type. It's very quiet; without active sonar scanning, it would be impossible to detect."

Can you confirm the nationality?

"No. But we're less than fifty nautical miles from Dubai..."

The meaning is clear: it is very likely Lanfang's submarine.

Rodman's face darkened. This was a silent demonstration—we're watching you, we can track you, and if we don't want you to find out, you won't.

"Continue the surveillance, but do not make any hostile moves," he ordered. "If they are just following, let them follow."

"Yes."

Rodman returned to the bridge. The sun was high in the sky, and the sea shimmered with dappled golden light. But beneath the beautiful light and shadow lay a turbulent power struggle.

He decided that upon returning to Pearl Harbor, he would immediately travel to Washington. He needed to report in person to the President and the Secretary of the Navy, and he needed to reassess the entire Pacific strategy.

Meanwhile, in the command tower of the Dubai naval base, Litt was also watching the departing Merica fleet through binoculars.

"The submarine reports that the target has been detected and is being followed, but no response has been made," the chief of staff said.

"Very good." Little put down his binoculars. "Tell them to follow to the exit of the Holmes Strait and then turn back. Not too close, not too far, maintain a professional distance."

"Yes."

Wang Wenwu walked over: "The Commander-in-Chief called to inquire about the situation."

"Tell the President that Phase One is complete. Rodman has returned with questions about the 'super battleship.' Now, it's up to Washington to react."

"What if the people of Meilika request to visit that shipyard?"

"Then let's drag it out," Litt said. "Security reviews take time, construction is on a tight schedule, diplomatic procedures are complicated... Let's drag it out until they lose patience, or until we're ready."

He turned to look at the harbor. In the morning light, the battleship "Huaihe" was preparing to depart; tomorrow it would head to Borneo to pick up Chen Feng and return him to Dubai. Meanwhile, in the dock, construction of the "Zhiyuan" continued, a real aircraft carrier was being secretly built, and the entire country was operating at full speed.

"Oh, right," Li Te suddenly remembered something, "tell the dockyard that starting today, every night when they work in that 'super dock,' the lights must be on, and people must be able to see the lights and shadows from a distance. But we need to control the entry and exit of personnel, and all 'workers' must be our people."

"Creating a false impression?"

"Creating a realistic illusion." Li Te laughed. "International politics is sometimes like magic—the audience sees what they want to see, so they don't question what's really happening behind the scenes."

The chief of staff, recording the orders, couldn't help but ask, "General, how long do you think this can keep us in the dark?"

"It won't take too long." Li Te looked at the rising sun in the east. "As long as before Mirika makes her final decision, as long as before the war truly expands into the Pacific. Once it's a fait accompli, the truth won't matter."