"Lock on to the rocket launch base. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 info" The Federated pilot shook his head in the cockpit and watched as he scanned the instruments and detection images in six directions: "All air-to-surface missiles are fired, destroying ground-based cluster rocket launchers. ”

"Roger." The wingman replied over the radio.

A formation of seven attack aircraft carried out a cover mission in the distant sky. Fourteen supersonic air-to-ground missiles were unhooked and launched, trailing the trail of the air current, and penetrating into the stronghold like a bamboo. The distance of four kilometers was fleeting in the blink of an eye, and before the Spear of God could launch an anti-aircraft barrage, fourteen air-to-ground missiles came one after another, exploding one after another.

The cluster rocket launch pads in the stronghold are like beehives shaking their heads, and when they are still reloading, they are suddenly hit by a precise hit, and the base is shot and collapsed, and the rocket launch box is like a big-headed doll that has been swept to the ground by sweeping legs.

The staff officer was overjoyed, found the disgraced Brigadier General Tarasson, and reported in ecstasy: "The Air Force has helped!" ”

Brigadier General Tarason panted: "I heard that the Vulcan cannon of the F22 can pierce the steel plate of an armored vehicle. This wave of missile attacks destroyed the opponent's self-guided rocket artillery, and the infantry division could capture the stronghold as long as the seven attack planes swooped and strafed twice! ”

The staff officer nodded vigorously: "I'm going to check the radio of the command vehicle, hoping to request further support." ”

Brigadier General Tarasong pushed the staff officer hard: "Be sure to ask for support!" If we win this battle, we will be able to get away with it! Otherwise the whole world will look at the jokes of the infantry divisions, and we will be the world's premier fools!"

A minute later, the captain pilot of the attack plane, who had finished firing the missile, heard a sincere request from the Marine Corps staff officer on the radio: "The infantry division can continue to fight!" Request air fire suppression, our infantry division is only a kilometer from the steel stronghold! Request Fire Suppression! ”

The Air Force captain and the wingman exchanged and replied to the staff officer: "It is recommended to revise the battle plan and wait for the assembly of heavy firepower weapons." ”

After a few seconds, the staff officer continued to ask for help: "The infantry division is advancing, begging the air force to suppress!" ”

The captain re-consulted the wingman's suggestion and replied, "Agree to support." Our unit will conduct a dive strafing fire at a minimum altitude of 2,000 meters and lasting 30 seconds. ”

In the dark night sky, seven F22 attack planes turned around and circled, turned in a big circle and made a comeback, whistling in the wind and pounced on the stronghold of the Spear of God. In the open space in the middle of the barracks, a rocket launcher with teeth and claws burned to the ground like a soft candlestick.

On the steel ramparts, dozens of quadruple heavy machine guns were strafing the approaching infantry divisions on the plains, and a barrage of cobwebs covered the plains.

"The target is the major firepower points, dive and strafe!" The captain ordered, and then decisively pressed down the fuselage, the Vulcan cannon on the wing suddenly fired, the light of the fire snake covered the entire wing, four thick orange-red dotted lines like a god whip on the bunker, splashing skyrocketing sparks, the barrage passed where there was no grass, the Vulcan cannon high-explosive armor-piercing shells penetrated the protection of the machine gun bunker, and beat the stubborn bandits inside to pieces.

Seven attack planes swooped over the stronghold, like a gust of wind, sweeping through the stronghold, and the 28 neat bundles of machine gun fire were like a row of blades, cutting apart the stubborn stronghold pillboxes, and suddenly making more than a dozen firepower points dumb one after another.

Brigadier General Tarason, who asked the Air Force to suppress him, was overjoyed and shrank in the command car and shouted: "All units rush me!" Annihilate the bandit stronghold in one fell swoop, and justice and glory await you in the capital! Come on! ”

The surviving squads of the infantry division heard the death order on the radio, and saw that the machine-gun fire in the enemy's strongholds was silent, and they hurriedly rushed upwards and rushed from one hidden point to another, crawling forward in various ways. Because they were afraid of revealing their positions, they even avoided shooting, and only waited for the dying demolition team to go up and blow up the door, and then swarmed in.

Suddenly, when the Air Force captain looked down on the stronghold, he saw three underground garage exits in the stronghold, and in the deafening footsteps, it seemed that a team of Tyrannosaurus Rex was rushing wildly, and the entire stronghold was trembling. Then, countless power armor rushed out of the underground garage, they were at least two meters and a half in size, with bomb supply chains hanging under their arms, connected to hydraulic cranes, and stood on the open ground, their arms slowly raised under the power of the hydraulic valve, like a tower crane as stable as Mount Tai, firmly planted on the plate, and began to shoot with their heads high.

In an instant, the roar of the castrated version of the M6A1 triple-barreled Vulcan cannon resounded across the earth, and the dense orange-red dotted lines formed a torrent-like barrage, flooding the sky of the steel stronghold.

This sharply increased anti-aircraft firepower quickly converged into a thick barrage rain, like a fire dragon spewing a thin beam of dragon breath with its head raised.

The captain and wingman screamed heart-rending over the radio at the same time: "Pull up! Pull it up! ”

Brigadier General Tarasong saw from afar that the steel stronghold in the distance was like a fire hydrant that had been knocked off, spraying water into the sky, but the water column was a thick barrage of red bullets.

He was dumbfounded, and even stopped giving orders, stupidly staring at the terrifying anti-aircraft barrage under the night sky, and when his body was cold, he suddenly remembered that he had just personally sent the attack aircraft formation of the North American Federation into the shocking firepower network.

If he heeded the captain's advice, retreated, and stopped the loss in time, maybe everything would have come to an end, and tonight's nightmare would have ended.

But like a gambler not willing to lose, he not only whipped his infantry division and sent it to the tiger's mouth, but also applied for attack aircraft to carry out dangerous dive strafing at all costs.

If the captain's tactical thinking is followed, the fighter formation will definitely return to resupply and then return again, using precision-guided missile strikes from a safe distance. This is the most proficient line-of-sight strike tactic of the North American fighter formation, and the battle damage control is extremely good.

Tarason's heart was like falling into a mire, sinking and suffocating, and he was so overwhelmed by fear that he couldn't breathe. He began to wonder what could have created such a terrifying network of firepower. With such firepower stationed, his infantry division must go and never return!

What to do?

He personally gave the order to charge, can he still slap his face and order a retreat? That's not telling yourself about your own mistakes!

What to do!

As an excellent combat leader, Tarathon has seen the certainty of tonight's defeat. He has begun to think deeply about the future he faces: he will be held accountable at the top, ridiculed by his peers, remembered by the world, responsible for the stupid directives, and even sent to a military tribunal from which no return!

Unless he falls into a state of confusion, then the command will automatically drop to the highest-ranking staff officer, who will be responsible for the final battle situation. And he Tarasong, as a martyr who died nine lives, was rescued in the hospital, and expressed his regret and hatred to the media: why didn't he die in Illinois with Paoze!

At that time, maybe he could not only escape accountability, but even have the opportunity to transform himself into a combat hero by the radical masses.

Only when he was wounded, and it was a serious injury that he had died nine times in his life, he could disguise himself as a martyr who was brave and forward, and sigh that he was at the end of his hero and was powerless to return to heaven in the situation of insufficient strength in his heart.

Tarasson glanced at the staff officer, and saw that he was holding the radio and anxiously shouting for command, asking for the location of the demolition team, ordering the machine gunners to cover fire, and counting the combat effectiveness of the last few RPG rocket launchers.

Tara Pine Dog jumped over the wall, and suddenly buckled the steel helmet and fastened it, and the artist boldly pulled a grenade and threw it outside the car door.

Then he roared: "Watch out for shelling!" "Struggling to push the unprepared staff officer out of the car.

The grenade exploded, and the armored car was almost overturned by the impulse of gunpowder, like a racing car drifting over, the two wheels were cocked, and the rope fell back to the ground with a shaky rope. Tarasson twisted his body in time, and was pierced by more than a dozen pieces of glass through the latissimus dorsi and arms, shoulder blades, and kidneys. The pain swept over the world, and when he finally fainted, he faintly heard the panicked staff officer roaring for the medical team. And the last prayer in his heart was:

"Those air forces can only fend for themselves." (To be continued.) )