Chapter 972: A One-Pot Stew

He Yuzhu had not closed his eyes all night; his eyelids felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead, yet after waiting all night, not a single plane had appeared in the sky.

The sun rose from the sea level, and after he opened the nautical chart and took a look, he shook his head helplessly: they had actually drawn a big circle on the sea over the past twelve hours, and their current position was still parallel to Midway Atoll.

However, this time they were following the northern route with the cargo ship, which was a significant distance further north than the old original route; he estimated that those M Country soldiers wouldn't be able to wrap their heads around it for a while, and even after chasing for so long, the target they were after hadn't really moved much.

He switched the patrol boat to autopilot mode and curled up in his chair to sleep.

He had only just dozed off for a moment when the faint sound of an airplane pulled him out of his dream.

As soon as He Yuzhu opened his eyes, he discovered several light spots on the radar moving slowly toward them; based on his experience, these were a few P-3C reconnaissance planes, sweeping across the area like a net from an altitude of ten thousand meters.

He Yuzhu's heart skipped a beat, and he stared fixedly at those light spots, feeling that something was wrong.

Just at this moment, the satellite phone rang.

Director Li's anxious voice came from the other end, his throat cracking: "Factory Director He! Captain Sun says the enemy reconnaissance planes have arrived. Have they discovered us? What should we do?"

He Yuzhu swallowed a mouthful of saliva and said with a smile: "I don't think they've discovered us yet, otherwise it would be fighter jets coming over instead. I suspect it will take them at least another day or two to see through our ruse."

Director Li did not know that he had already changed ships, and he felt uneasy, always fearing that the fighter jets would pounce immediately after the reconnaissance planes flew away.

He Yuzhu had no choice but to pat his chest to reassure him: "Director Li, don't worry. If the fighter jets really do come, I can shoot them down too."

Director Li was still worried, his voice trembling: "Factory Director He, if it really comes to it, just jump into the water; saving your life is what matters."

He Yuzhu laughed: "Put your heart at ease. Although this boat of mine is dilapidated, the radar on it is extremely effective; it can spot planes and missiles from two or three hundred kilometers away in advance. As long as there are missiles or planes rushing toward me, I have plenty of time to run."

Only then did Director Li let out a long sigh of relief, saying repeatedly, "That's good, that's good."

But He Yuzhu knew clearly in his heart that relying solely on the old radar on that boat was still not enough.

Under the enemy's encirclement and interception, he could not be careless; after all, there were over forty lives at stake!

He immediately released from his space a set of Active Phased Array Radar that he had personally modified; this thing was more advanced than the AESA that M Country had already put into limited service. Being able to achieve this result was thanks to the help of his chip factory.

This piece of equipment could detect targets four or five hundred kilometers away, far stronger than the goods the M Military was currently using.

Once the radar lit up, the screen immediately became clear and bright, and the airspace for several hundred kilometers around was in full view.

He leaned back in his chair, calculating over and over in his mind.

This cargo ship could hide for a while but not forever; the people at the US General Staff were not fools. Once they failed to turn up that decrepit LST landing ship in that sea area, they would definitely sift through every single cargo ship in the vicinity.

The one thing he was betting on now was that both he and the delegation had changed their "costumes," and it would take the M Country people some time to see through this disguise.

Moreover, there were hundreds of passenger and cargo ships drifting densely along this route; they wouldn't dare to strike every single ship.

The F-16 might look fierce, but in reality, if it got close to his missile launcher, it would be no different from a toothless tiger.

What He Yuzhu was betting on now was that the M Country navy and air force would still approach the cargo ships for verification; if they locked onto a target and just fired, He Yuzhu would have no recourse.

At this moment, in the US Pacific Command, General William smashed a folder right into George's face. Ashtrays, pen holders, folders—he threw everything on the desk that could be thrown, his voice so loud the whole floor was shaking: "Trash! You are all trash! Five F-16s, two P-3Cs, and you can't even find a landing craft that's about to rust through? Do you have chamber pots on your shoulders instead of heads?" He panted like a mad bull, his eyes spitting fire, "I'll give you another twenty-four hours! If you can't kill that bunch of people within twenty-four hours, you can all get out!"

George covered his forehead, which had been turned red by the impact, and hurriedly stood at attention to salute: "Don't worry, General! I will immediately dispatch more planes and warships. Even if I have to turn the Pacific upside down, I will definitely drag them out!" His words were tough, but his heart was pounding; yet at this moment, he had to bite the bullet and carry on.

In the operations conference room, George delivered William's rage exactly as it was.

Several key staff officers looked at one another, their brows knitted into knots; in the room, only the low hum of the air conditioner and the sound of flipping files remained.

After a full minute of silence, a young staff officer in the corner named Harry suddenly slapped his pen onto the table with a "clack" and spoke up: "I've been thinking for two hours, and the more I ponder it, the more I feel—we've been played for monkeys."

George turned sharply toward him: "On what grounds do you say that?"

Harry stood up, walked to the podium, grabbed a red and blue pencil, and drew a big circle fiercely on the Pacific nautical chart: "That decrepit LST can run at most two or three hundred kilometers a night; no matter how it flies, it can't fly out of this circle. But our two P-3Cs, five F-16s, and three cruisers have searched this entire sea, and we haven't even found a hair!"

George was so anxious he rubbed his hands together: "Harry, stop keeping us in suspense! What exactly is going on? Speak clearly!"

Harry turned around, his eyes fixed straight on him: "Is there such a possibility—that they scuttled the landing ship, and before sinking it, they hijacked a merchant ship and changed their skin?"

These words were like a thunderbolt, making the scalps of all the staff officers in the room tingle.

"That's right! Who says they must be running away in that piece-of-junk landing ship?"

Hunter, a black major who had been silent in the corner for a long time, stood up, held onto the edge of the table, and said in a deep voice: "What Harry said does indeed make sense. But the problem is—inspecting merchant ships? This task is harder than reaching the heavens. On that route you circled, there are at least a hundred cargo ships drifting. We can't possibly go and inspect them one by one, can we?"

The corners of Harry's mouth curled up: "We don't need to inspect them one by one. Filter a batch based on distance, then go through satellite phone records, route logs, and registration files; we can at least filter out ninety percent that have no threat. For the rest, just send warships to intercept them."

After hearing this, George clapped his hands hard: "Good! We'll do exactly as Harry says! Mobilize all resources and search those hundred-plus cargo ships inside out! I don't believe we can't drag them out!"

Subsequently, the entire Staff Department was like a wound-up clock; some were pulling files, others were making phone calls, and the Global Ship Database was searched from top to bottom—ship names, registered nationalities, cargo owners, declared routes, port call records, nothing was left out.

Three hours later, the results were in.

Twenty suspicious targets were filtered out from over a hundred, and unfortunately, He Yuzhu's ship was prominently on the list.

The order was issued immediately: three P-3C reconnaissance planes and two E-2C early warning aircraft took off urgently to track and verify these twenty ships one by one.

Toward evening, with the sunset burning orange-red on the horizon, a P-3C began to dive from high altitude, its altitude dropping sharply to a low altitude of one thousand to two thousand meters, and the reconnaissance equipment under its wings swept directly toward the sea surface.

He Yuzhu stared at the radar screen, watching that light spot get closer and closer, his heartbeat accelerating suddenly. The opportunity had arrived.

He did not hesitate for half a second; with a flick of his finger, that old-fashioned LST landing ship from his space appeared silently on the sea surface.

He leaped onto the missile launcher, the fire-control radar locked onto the target instantly, red lights flashed, and the lock-on tone sounded sharply.

His thumb pressed down hard on the launch button.

"Boom—!"

A trail of fire tore through the twilight sky; that P-3C reconnaissance plane was hit in mid-air, its fuselage tilted violently, and it plunged toward the sea surface, tumbling while wrapped in thick smoke and flames.

In an instant, the entire plane fell into the sea, and debris splashed onto the dark red sea surface, like the blood of countless people covering that stretch of the ocean.

He Yuzhu stared at the burning wreckage, let out a long breath of foul air, and cursed: "Come on! Send a few more over, and I'll wipe you all out in one go!"