"What did you say, say it again?"

Just a few minutes after the C801 anti-ship missile launched by the Rikelmeyer formation hit the target, on the "Sports God" during the British Task Force tens of nautical miles southeast of the British ships engulfed by the raging fire, the incredible roar of Major General Woodward, the commander of the task force, was about to lift the ceiling of the combat command center. An incredible look was revealed in his hawkish-like gaze, staring straight at the intelligence staff in front of him.

"Argentina raided the supply fleet in the rear, and the Atlantic Transporter suffered a heavy blow, and the entire ship ignited a fire. It is estimated that..."

The intelligence officer repeated the news he had just obtained again, but lowered his head sadly after he said it. However, everyone in the command center understood what the fire on the entire ship meant for a civilian transport ship. Woodward also understood it very well, but he could not accept this fact and kept shaking his head:

"How is it possible, how is it possible? How can Argentina aircraft break through our air defense circle?"

"The Argentines did not attack on our tightly guarded western routes, but instead launched an assault using the northern airspace with weak protection. Our side was a little out of defense!"

"Also, according to the latest intelligence sent by the Ambush, which was escorted by the Atlantic Transporter, they once detected a high-frequency communication signal, which was initially believed to be the attack guided by Argentine patrol aircraft!"

"According to the escort frigate report, hitting the Atlantic Transporter should have been two anti-ship missiles, shaped like the French 'Flying Fish'..."

The staff of the Task Force Command surrounded Major General Woodward and talked about the latest situation in their mouths. Woodward, sitting in front of the chart, was like a computer running at high speed, sorting and analyzing these complicated and latest information in his mind, in order to quickly form a practical and feasible response. But just as he started thinking and thought quickly, the last sentence suddenly made his thinking stagnate, and then his eyes stern:

"'Flying Fish'? Where does the 'Flying Fish' come from in Argentina?" As he said that, Woodward turned his gaze to the intelligence staff beside him. The intelligence staff nodded with understanding, then opened the brief of the intelligence in his hand, looked through it, and then said confidently:

"Argentina has only five 'Flying Fish' missiles, two of which sank Sheffield', and three sank into the sea with the shot down 'Super Army Flag'. Moreover, from the latest information, France has been strictly enforcing the arms embargo agreement on Argentina. In summary, Argentina should not have 'Flying Fish' missiles!"

"But this is what the officers and soldiers of the frigate of the 'Huamei' have seen with their own eyes. How could it be..."

"Maybe it is an aviation bomb that can bounce on the sea, maybe it is a torpedo, or it may be an illusion caused by the officers and soldiers on the ship because of tension. But no matter which possibility it is, it should be impossible for France's 'Flying Fish' missile!"

The staff officer who reported truthfully wanted to argue a few words, and the chief of staff of the task force spoke to stop him, then ignored the young staff officer, but turned his attention to Major General Woodward on the main position and began to perform his duties as the chief of staff:

"General, judging from the current situation, Argentina is far more cunning than we thought. Because our current number of carrier-based aircraft cannot ensure the safety of the entire airspace, so I suggest that the entire fleet be retreated fifty nautical miles..."

"No!" Before the Chief of Staff finished speaking, Woodward refused. He agreed that Argentina did not have the "Flying Fish" missile, but it was absolutely impossible for him to retreat the entire fleet because of the sinking of a transport ship. You must know that from the time of the attack on Dawn to the present, the British Army has been under the command of Major General Moore.

It is unstoppable. In just a few hours, it has controlled one-third of the land in the Malvinas Archipelago. It is now gathering troops to bypass Argentina's secondary stronghold and take the Port of Stanley, the capital of the Cabernet Island, to completely win the entire battle situation.

At this critical moment, if the army loses the support and coordination of the navy, not only will the momentum of offensive will be curbed, but it may also fall into a dangerous situation of isolation and helplessness, which will lead to a sudden turn and fall into an irreparable defeat. Woodward saw this very clearly. If he did not understand how to choose between local tactical failure and overall strategic victory, he would not be able to sit in the position of commander of the task force:

"We support the landing forces not only cannot retreat, but also need to strengthen!" As he said, Woodward used his hand to follow the route of the Argentina raiding the Atlantic Transporter on the chart:

"This roundabout attack line is too far away. With Argentina's aerial refueling capacity, it cannot support the assault of a large-scale aircraft fleet, so..."

Woodward paused for a moment, but the palm that was lying on the chart clenched into a fist at this moment, knocked it on the table twice, and made his own decision:

"Strengthen the air defense in the north. If the "Sea Harrier" is insufficient, contact the "hunting fans" of the Air Force to implement electronic suppression here. The newly modified "Sea King" radar search helicopter on the "Invincible" was also sent to supplement the low-altitude blind spots and search for Argentine patrol aircraft. While suppressing it with all your might, try to kill him!"

"yes!"

The same promise also sounded on the deck of the Atlantic Transporter, which became a pile of scrap iron. However, compared with the momentum of the "Sports God" command room, there was a wailing and sadness, because the captain of the ship, Ian North, who was over 60 years old, had just issued a abandonment order.

As he watched the escalator climbing to the lifeboat and being continuously received by the U.S. Huamei and Ambush frigates coming to rescue, a long-lost smile appeared on North's face. Then he looked at Drake, who was transferred to the Atlantic Transporter as a technical analyst a few days ago, took out a large piece of blood-stained metal wreck from his pocket and handed it to Drake:

"Mr. Drake, this is something I found out from a crew member, I hope it will work for you!"

Drake still took the metal wreckage expressionlessly, as deep as the sea, as if in the light blue pupils that had seen through the world, the thick blood stains on it were reflected, but at this moment, under the blood stains were blurred, a few strange square characters were hidden, and his calm eyes suddenly surged:

"This is......."

"That's right, it's the wreckage of the c801 anti-ship missile you told me a few days ago. To be honest, I didn't believe you at that time, but after seeing this wreckage that killed the captain of the engine, I knew how stupid I was. I believe that the gentlemen in London would be the same as me when they saw this, because it turns out that Mr. Drake, you are right..."

"missile!"

Before Captain North finished speaking, several sailors standing on the deck preparing to evacuate the ship pointed at the sea in horror and shouted:

"Missile! Argentina's missile..."

Drake's eyes immediately narrowed, and two anti-ship missiles that were swept orange-red flames flew straight from the side of the broken "Atlantic Transporter" at a height almost against the waves, like sharp arrows shot by a demon, and even more like the endless summons of the god of death. With a hellish roar, they hit the established target desperately......

"My God is the 'Huamei' and the 'Ambushes'!"

Seeing this scene, Drake, who had always been calm, couldn't help but exclaim, watching two C801 anti-ship missiles rush towards the "Huamei" and "Ambushe" frigates, and the "Huamei" and "Ambushe" frigates at this time have also reacted.

The interference foil instantly sprayed brilliant fireworks, high-power electronic interference wave after wave of irradiation of missiles, and the rapid-fire cannons on the deck were desperately spitting out metal storms at all costs. However, all these methods can only make life more magnificent and colorful in the face of c801 anti-jamming circuit and ultra-low-altitude high-speed maneuvering......

"Boom~~~~~"

"Boom~~~~~"

As two missiles pierced into the hull like sharp knives, the earth-shaking explosion instantly rang inside the frigates of the "Huamei" and "Ambushe" in an instant. A series of explosions completely tore the two frigates of more than 2,000 tons apart. Huge fireballs rose out of thin air, tragic black smoke rolled up, miserable screams, red sea water, floating corpses, and the burnt smell of human body burning, allowing people standing on the "Atlantic Transporter" to truly see what Shura hell is and what the cruelty of war is...

"Boom..."

At this moment, the ammunition depot of the "Huamei" frigate nearest the "Atlantic Transporter" exploded. The huge impact force directly broke the hull and also exploded the turret. A graceful parabola passed through the air and smashed it straight towards the "Atlantic Transporter". The people standing on the deck were not prepared at all. When they saw the turret crashing down, they wanted to hide, but it was too late. Only Drake secretly shouted "Not good" and penetrated it hard, and suddenly heard it in his ears.

"Boom~~~"

With a loud bang, when I looked up, the entire splint was already flowing into a river of blood...

"Mr. Drake, you must report to London, we...we...we can't die so...so..." The old captain North whose lower body had been blown to death, his heart stopped beating before he finished his last sentence. Drake covered North's body with a piece of white cloth, and added the old captain's words:

"You won't die so unclearly, I promise!"

As he said that, Dred wiped the blood from the missile wreckage in his hand, and the number of c801 suddenly came into view...

"China's 'flying fish'!"
Chapter completed!