The Cuban Air Force deployed far more than two squadrons this time; in fact, over fifty aircraft participated in the operation. It can be said they put everything on the line, even stripping Havana bare.

The intelligence leak was real, but the numbers were wrong. Each squadron thought they were the only ones being deployed until after takeoff, they realized it was a joint operation.

Given the company’s sieve-like intelligence agencies, even if that officer hadn’t blabbed on the platform, the info would’ve leaked through various channels. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

So, the European Community’s plan was to manipulate the situation, lure Military Science’s aircraft out, and execute their tank vs. airplane strategy.

They even went all out by deploying all Cuban aircraft, risking everything to seize an opportunity.

After all, the ones dying were Cubans, and Havana had long settled the payments for these planes; even if they all fell, the Europeans wouldn’t feel any loss.

Moreover, once your planes are all gone, you could purchase more from us. If short on funds, take a loan, or use assets as collateral.

Whether it’s mineral rights, land, or tax sovereignty, Europeans consume everything, wasting nothing. Even talking with Cubans isn’t off the table, as they lack these resources.

"This is Falcon One, we’ve been detected by enemy radar, remain vigilant."

"Roger, maintain silence and proceed, clearing obstacles for the target."

Clearing obstacles essentially meant acting as bait, drawing enemy anti-aircraft fire and radar focus onto themselves, sacrificing their own safety.

The pilots, however, were unaware of the true mission. Otherwise, they certainly wouldn’t have agreed to take off.

Protecting tanks as an escort, seriously, I want to crack your brain open and see how many holes it has!

Beep, beep, beep—

The fighter jet radar sounded an alarm.

A multitude of red blips began appearing on the radar image.

300....

Upon reaching three hundred, the radar nearly tapped out, as the figure was approaching its operational range, unable to lock on precisely. The screen was swarmed with red.

"WTF?"

The Cuban pilot squinted at the blood-red radar, thinking perhaps he was seeing things.

"Watch out for approaching enemy aircraft; their speed isn’t high, but they’re overwhelming in numbers."

"Signal frequency is unknown, not from previous Military Technology aircraft."

"I’ve locked on. Should we fire?"

In the Cuban Air Force command room, the major seemed equally puzzled. Where did this surprise attack come from, and why wasn’t there any prior intel?

Given the numbers, these could only be drones.

Since the Predator drones had never ascended above twenty thousand feet, the Cubans instinctively assumed these were low-altitude combat drones akin to sextants.

The major steeled himself.

Who cares? The mission is about securing the air drop and ensuring tanks take out aircraft. What does it matter who they are?

"Fire!"

"Roger."

The pilots consecutively uploaded launch commands, immediately unlocking two infrared missiles from the four mounted under the fuselage. With a swoosh, they launched, over a hundred missiles with white tails vanished beyond visual range in an instant.

[Sky Net: Launch counter-air missile interceptors]

The Predator drone swarm lacked electromagnetic active stealth systems, compounded by its efforts to amplify radar signals to locate enemy planes. Therefore, detection was inevitable.

Thus, once UV infrared alert systems sounded, the swarm immediately dispatched interceptors, outnumbering Cuban aircraft missiles by several times.

Countless missiles zigzagged through the sky, painting death trajectories. On the data link, they sequentially captured incoming missile infrared signals, racing onwards.

Upon collision, fireballs erupted among the clouds, the shockwaves rupturing numerous cloud layers.

This technology had no link to Military Science or Old Net; it was thanks to significant backing from their former patrons.

"What?"

The Cuban Air Force was stunned when missile signals disappeared before reaching their destinations.

Yet, in the blink of an eye, both sides had closed in to visual range.

Via high-precision artificial eyes allotted to air force elites, they precisely tracked the drones appearing on the horizon, like specks of dust, growing larger at visible speeds.

"Heavens! There are so many."

"Engagement imminent!"

"Fire! Fire! Open fire!"

"Ascend! Ascend! Use maneuverability to shake them off!"

Within mere moments, the two sides closed in considerably.

The pilots decided against wasting missiles on these drones, opting to use their cannons instead.

A multitude of cannon shells cut through the howling winds, with stray bullets bound to rain down on some unfortunate heads.

But given the sheer numerical disparity, aircraft firepower was insufficient to stave off the Predator horde.

Woo—

The Predator’s ducted engine fans roared so loudly that even the pilots could hear.

They were astonished to find these drones, beside the ducted engines on both sides, even equipped with turbine engines at the rear for additional thrust.

With the turbine engine in play, the Predators achieved subsonic flight capabilities, relentlessly pursuing their jets.

Oddly though, despite the proximity, these drones didn’t open fire on them, seemingly attempting to block their flight paths.

What are these guys up to?

While the air force major was bewildered, someone else couldn’t hold back.

Among the dozen or so transport aircraft trailing the fighters, one had already opened its rear hatch.

Hans, having settled into a heavy tank, had his own plans.