The door of the courtyard house has been welded dead

On the high seas of the Pacific Ocean.

A fleet of several ships, arranged in an arc, glided across the deep blue sea.

The warship's spherical bow cleaved through the deep blue ocean, the white spray rising on either side washing away the hull number on the bow.

Old Ding, standing by the bridge command platform, had military binoculars around his neck. After checking the time on his wrist, he looked solemnly at the sea outside the glass, his face showing a hint of anxiety.

"Radar has detected an unidentified naval formation at a distance of approximately 90 nautical miles, at 140 degrees east longitude and 31 degrees north latitude. Three vessels have been detected so far, and they are accelerating toward our formation!"

The sounds coming from the communication channel made the atmosphere on the bridge even more tense, and everyone had already mentally mapped out the location of the unidentified vessel.

Behind them, several staff officers quickly leaned over the table and began their work, using rulers, red and blue pencils, squares, and circumference rulers. After careful calculation, they determined the exact location of the other side, their movements very skilled.

Old Ding frowned. Although he was always under surveillance when crossing the first island chain, today was different. He didn't have time to play house with those people.

"Judging from the direction, it didn't come from the south. It should be the Pacific Fleet stationed at Pearl Harbor. I just don't know if it's the Third or Seventh Fleet. If they're traveling at 20 knots per hour, it would take them almost five hours to get here. Based on that, it should be enough time, but that's assuming everything goes smoothly!"

After considering the opinions of the other staff officers, the chief of staff glanced at the supply ship's captain, Ding Jiqun, and gave his opinion.

"Contact the command ship and suggest that the survey ship and geostationary satellites adjust their orbits to reconnoiter the surrounding waters near the fleet to see if there is an aircraft carrier group!"

Old Ding walked up to the nautical chart, tapped his fingers on the panel, glanced at the chart, nodded slightly, and then gestured to the communications officer.

He didn't need to worry about the rest. The destroyers on guard nearby were only there to let everyone know that a "guest" had arrived.

As for whether it's containment or expulsion, regardless of the type of confrontation or the responsibility of the command ship, considering the relationship between the two sides, it's highly likely that after friendly communication, they will leave each other alone, after all, this is international waters.

As the captain of the supply ship, Old Ding could only offer suggestions as an addendum.

As for five hours later, if we're lucky, by the time the other side arrives, we'll have already started bringing them back.

After checking the time on his watch again, Lao Ding silently wished his old comrade-in-arms Jiang Defu a smooth journey without any problems.

The biggest problem is that if it falls halfway down, the unidentified fleet that came to watch the spectacle will follow our fleet.

"Notify all observation and communication personnel on this ship to take their respective battle positions at 16:30. Their mission is to observe the surrounding sea and air, and to immediately notify if any targets are spotted."

As the order was given, lookouts with binoculars began to occupy every corner of the supply ship's deck, lookout posts, command bridge, and even the gantry cranes on the upper deck of the supply ship, all of which were used as lookout points.

It was a 360-degree view with no blind spots. All the lookouts picked up their binoculars and stared at the surrounding ocean, their bodies swaying with the rise and fall of the waves.

The azure sea at five in the afternoon, in summer, offered a wide view and excellent visibility. With binoculars, one could easily see four or five kilometers away.

Not only on the supply ships, but also on other destroyers, frigates, survey ships, ocean-going salvage ships, and ocean-going tugboats, the decks were now filled with lookouts at every position.

As the sun gradually set, the reflection from the telescope tubes decreased, and visibility improved. Under the command of the flagship, the naval formation began to disperse gradually, occupying the surrounding sea area and awaiting further instructions.

"All ships, activate your air search radars. The Xiangyanghong-10 tracking ship will switch to its encrypted radio frequency band and begin frequency hopping to maintain communication with the relay ship Yuanwang-1. Yuanwang-2 will dock with the remote sensing satellite. The 302 salvage ship will prepare for salvage operations. The 830 ship will prepare for towing!"

Within the fleet command channel, as commands were issued from the command ship, the bridges of each ship became even busier, with commanders, communications officers, and radar operators all starting to operate their respective equipment.

The staff officers frequently moved from one control panel to another, their anxiety clearly visible.

"131 and 132, our 'guests' await us at 130 degrees east longitude. Please remain calm and avoid escalating the situation. Communicate with the command ship promptly. All other ships, prepare yourselves and report back. Zzzzz~!"

"131 ship received, course adjustment initiated!"

"132 ship understood, remain in place, 131 ship has arrived!"

"Comrades, with two fewer destroyers, the workload on each of our ships is now even greater. Let's work together to complete this mission."

"Ship 615 received!"

"Received from 830 ship."

"..."

"Notify the rest of the crew that everyone without important work to go up to the deck, grab their binoculars, and keep a close watch. Even the cooks are called up!"

With two destroyers no longer observing, a large area of ​​water to the east suddenly became clear, right next to the supply ship area, instantly increasing the pressure, especially given the external "harassment" and the race against time. On the ships, all sorts of personnel, unusually, emerged from below deck. Even the cooks, wearing white aprons and chef's hats, were forced to take on two roles, picking up binoculars and acting as lookouts.

"Ten minutes until launch. The current Beijing time is 4:50 PM. Ten minutes to go. All personnel, adjust your watches. The Xuanwu formation will proceed according to the original mission schedule. The missile is expected to arrive in our territorial waters in sixteen minutes!"

Ten minutes before launch, the command ship finally began to announce the specific time of the mission. At that moment, all the officers on the bridge subconsciously raised their wrists and checked the time on the nautical clock.

"Captain Ding, I need to see Captain Ding. Has the mission been issued? We cameramen also need space to take pictures. You lookouts need to make room for us!"

The sounds from below the bridge reached inside, and only then did Lao Ding remember that there were newspaper reporters on his supply ship, something he had almost forgotten about during his days at sea.

The mission was about to begin. The bridge area had been sealed off by soldiers on duty, and the newspaper staff could not get up there.

Perhaps it was the soldiers inside the cabin who all rushed onto the deck, drawing their attention, and one by one they also ran onto the deck.

"Get them two binoculars and put them on the gantry!"

Old Ding had no time to pay attention to them. He lowered the binoculars from his eyebrow, waved his hand, and chose a spot with a relatively open view for them, so they wouldn't hear anything they shouldn't have on the bridge.

The clouds were low, and the salty sea breeze, carrying waves, lapped against the portholes of the supply ship.

In the bridge, the operations staff stared intently at the air search radar screens, the ticking of the second hand particularly clear in the silence.

Suddenly, a muffled rumble came from the sky, like thunder before a rainstorm, and a silver-gray figure streaked across the sky, leaving a long trail of white steam.

Like a dragon breaking free from its cage, the ballistic missile spewed out orange-red flames from its tail, drawing a breathtaking arc at the boundary between sea and air.

The missile's trail of flames pierced through the clouds, tearing a scorching crack in the leaden sky, as if it were setting the entire silent ocean ablaze.

All the personnel on the surrounding ships held their breath, watching this national treasure, which embodies the hard work of countless researchers, pierce the sky. The magnificent scene was so breathtaking that they forgot to breathe.

Old Ding was nervous for nothing, as were the commanders and soldiers of this ocean-going fleet. They thought the mission target would be very difficult to find, and everyone was on high alert. But this commotion was far too great on the calm sea.

It would be an exaggeration to say that it was a trail of sparks and lightning, but the commotion was indeed considerable. A thunderous sound came from afar, and a "white line" connected the clouds.

It is the trajectory of a ballistic missile falling from high altitude, more than 2,000 kilometers away. After the fuel is exhausted, the exhaust flame will spray for a while and then stop, intermittently.

With a loud bang, the missile completed its mission and fell precisely into the designated sea area in a vertical manner.

In an instant, a huge mushroom-shaped water column burst forth from the calm sea, white waves shot into the sky, forming a water wall tens of meters high, and the seawater within a radius of a hundred meters was stirred up and boiled.

Immediately afterwards, huge splashes of water poured down like a torrential rain, forming a huge white area on the blue sea, with ripples spreading outwards in layers.

A sharp whistle suddenly rang out on the supply ship, shattering the previous shock and silence.

The whistle sounded like a bugle call to charge, instantly rousing the entire fleet of commanders and soldiers from their shock.

Salvage ships and tugboats were already poised to go, and the other warships quickly made way for the operation vessels.

The tugboat's engines roared, and black smoke billowed from its chimneys. Its spread-out nets cleaved the sea surface as it sped toward the missile debris's impact point, preventing it from sinking underwater.

The propeller stirred up waves that left two long white streaks at the stern, intertwining with the ripples on the sea surface.

The salvage vessel arrived at the landing point first, and the soldiers on deck quickly sprang into action, wearing orange life jackets and holding various professional tools, trying their best to maintain their balance on the swaying ship.

As the hook at the tail slowly lowered, the specially designed salvage net sank into the water. The instrument was closely monitored, and the orientation of the net opening was precisely adjusted based on the data fed back from the sonar.

The tugboat followed closely behind, with its crew operating the equipment to assist the salvage vessel in securing and towing the wreckage.

The seawater lapped against the hull, making a thumping sound that mingled with the roar of the engines and the shouts of the crew and soldiers.

With most of the missile debris salvaged from the water.

For a moment, applause filled the communication channel.

The applause signifies that, from this day forward, the Navy finally possesses its own triad of second-strike capabilities, and this time, it's a real, uncompromising force.

Old Ding also breathed a sigh of relief, a sigh of relief he felt for Jiang Defu, worth at least a bottle of Maotai. (End of Chapter)