Chapter 81: Alpha Strike Against The Jamming Facility (Patreon)

In the dimly lit meeting room, the command staff sat in tense anticipation, their focus riveted on the large screen displaying the radar feed. Projected by a powerful projector, the screen showed a detailed map dotted with symbols representing aircraft. Each symbol marked a plane loaded with anti-radiation missiles, prepared to neutralize enemy radar installations.

Lilith coordinated the strike, and now, she was only here for the result of her plan. Whether this ended in failure or not depended on a large number of factors, such as how advanced the enemy air defenses were, whether the missiles could track the jamming or not, and the list went on. Bottom line, it was a gamble with the odds stacked against them.

“So, Lilith, I’m not exactly aware of what we are waiting for, so, mind to explain?” Bell asked, wanting to know the content of the alpha strike.

“Right on. So, we have multiple aircraft inbound, including C-5s and C-17s carrying palleted cruise missiles, B-1 bombers carrying cruise missiles, fighter jets carrying AGM-84 HARMs, and several tomahawks will be launched later for saturation attack.”

Bell then asked, “How many aircraft are inbound?”

“At least, 8 F-22s, 12 F-35s, 8 B-1s, 20 F-15s, some C-5s and C-17s, including our AWACS,” Lilith continued.

“So… the whole air force?” Amelia added.

“With the exception of the cargo planes and Bell’s personal plane, yes,” Lilith nodded.

“Good,” Lisa nodded.

This way, they could ensure that if the other side had air superiority, they could counter it rather easily. Besides, the whole mission was to launch the missiles from a safe range, not the conventional 'safe zone', but rather an area outside of the region where jamming was evident. Bell wanted those disruptive signals to disappear before Frostwood turned into a mental hospital.

The blips on the information screen drew closer to the mountain range, with cruise missiles finally launched from the ground VLS on Frostwood, adding more blips to the information screen. These cruise missiles were tomahawks, set to utilize GPS coordinates provided by the planes flying closer to the mountain range.

Eventually, the cruise missiles launched from the ground VLS caught up with the bombers and fighter jets, continuing their flight towards the twilight zone. Then, the bombers and jets released their payloads of HARM missiles right at the 'safe zone', where the radar jamming was strong enough for the HARMs to trace the signal origin.

The combined fleet reached the designated 'safe zone'—a misleading term given its proximity to the jamming sources. Here, amidst the thick radar interference, the bombers and jets deployed their AGM-84 HARM missiles. Designed to home in on radar emissions, the missiles dove into the jammed sectors, their signals fading from the screen as they approached their targets. This orchestrated strike marked a pivotal moment in the operation, as each missile sought to neutralize the enemy's radar capabilities.

The bomber and fighter planes then turned away from the mountain range, their hopes pinned on the success of their attack to destroy both the jamming and broadcasting facility. If their strike incapacitated the jamming facility, they would have a chance to eventually approach Zugspitze unharmed.

Minutes passed like hours, the waiting compounded by the uncertainty of the situation. The effectiveness of the strike against such a formidable and enigmatic adversary was impossible to predict, and the lack of immediate feedback only served to heighten the anxiety in the room.

"Lilith, any word from our eyes in the sky?" Bell asked, his voice cutting through the tense silence. The radar screen hadn’t displayed any sign that the radar jamming was offline. However, the strength of the jamming seemed to be diminishing in comparison.

"We're getting preliminary reports now," Lilith responded, her focus unwavering as she interpreted the incoming data from her tactical terminal. "It looks promising. Several radar signatures have gone dark. We're waiting for further confirmation, but it appears the missiles have hit their targets."

“Good.”

As time went by, the jamming displayed on the informative screen gradually died down as each missile hit its target. The lack of jamming also revealed the location of the cruise missiles that hadn’t hit their target yet. The radar blips disappeared one by one until every single missile hit its target. Eventually, the entire jamming was eliminated. The radar screen was clear again, displaying the fighter jets and bombers on their return to Frostwood.

Bell began to smile in satisfaction; it appeared that the limited response was more than enough to deal with the jamming, and to some degree, the whispers. Well, they might need to conduct more strike missions in the area, but for now, it would suffice. Perhaps with the jamming gone, they could finally focus on taking control of the situation.

With the radar jamming fully dissipated and the skies above the mountain range clear once more, the command center buzzed with a sense of achievement. The operation, meticulously planned and boldly executed, had yielded results beyond their cautious optimism. The enemy's radar capabilities were significantly degraded, if not entirely neutralized, marking a decisive turn in their strategic advantage over Zugspitze.

A cautious optimism began to spread through the room. While the initial reports were favorable, the full extent of the operation's success would require more detailed analysis. Still, Bell also noticed that the whispers became much quieter this time, instead of the full whisper of those numbers. However, they were still there, lingering in the background.

Bell's smile broadened as he monitored the radar screen, now showing the returning fleet of bombers and fighter jets making their way back to Frostwood. They were a mere ten minutes from safe landing. If this was how it felt to achieve a minor victory, he couldn’t wait for a major one.

As they awaited the fleet's return, discussions began to shift towards the next steps. With the jamming and broadcasting facilities out of commission, the whispers that had plagued Frostwood seemed to diminish, though they had not completely vanished. Now, it was only a matter of Gerhard and his group uncovering the meaning of the numbers.

However, his expression didn’t betray any sign of confidence. "Bell, my team suddenly detected some unusual electronic spikes in the aftermath of the strike," Gerhard reported, his tone serious but laced with a hint of excitement. "It's not residual jamming or anything we've seen before. These spikes are... different. They're structured in a way that suggests intentional communication."

Amelia then joked, “The numbers?”

Lisa quickly shushed her, saying, “I think it’s more important than a simple electronic spike. This is way too easy.”

Bell's smile vanished into thin air. As much as the scent of minor victory lingered, Lisa was correct; their peer opponent might be capable of creating some form of telepathy, suggesting advanced magical technology or something else entirely. Bottom line, there was something more to it.

Seeking Amelia's perspective, Bell inquired, "Any opinion on this?"

"It might just be static," Amelia suggested, though her tone indicated she was not entirely convinced of her own assessment.

"I'm not so sure it's just static," Bell countered, his intuition telling him there was more to it.

As they deliberated, Bell suddenly became aware of a peculiar ringing in his ears. Unlike any mundane disturbance, this sound seemed to lack an identifiable source. He scanned the room, searching for a possible origin—perhaps a malfunctioning speaker—but found none. The realization that the sound was internal made him increasingly uneasy.

Without warning, his discomfort escalated as a series of numbers flashed across his vision in a stark red hue. 

[••• 22-12-21 21-4-7-6-15-12-9-9-8, 16-12-22-19 8-5-12-14-8-1-18-4, 25-9-19-9-20 51.5074Q, 0.1278Z] 

The sequence was unmistakably similar to the cryptic numbers associated with the enemy's broadcasts. Was this a resurgence of the whispers, or something entirely new? The ringing in his ears intensified, morphing into a cacophony that made concentration nearly impossible. The sound bore down on him with such force that it sparked a debilitating headache, echoing the symptoms described by others who had been exposed to the mysterious broadcasts.

Bell's disorientation escalated rapidly, his hands clasped tightly over his ears in a futile attempt to block out the piercing ringing that only he seemed to hear. The room spun around him, a maelstrom of confusion and pain, as an ominous red text flashed across his field of vision, presenting the cryptic sequence of numbers once more:

[ALERT] 

[••• 22-12-21 21-4-7-6-15-12-9-9-8, 16-12-22-19 8-5-12-14-8-1-18-4, 25-9-19-9-20 51.5074Q, 0.1278Z] 

[DOT DOT DOT]

The text seemed to pulsate, growing more intense as Bell's vision began to narrow, the edges darkening as if night were closing in on him. Lisa, witnessing Bell's sudden distress, rushed to his side, her hands gently but firmly gripping his shoulders in an effort to steady him.

"Bell, talk to me. What's happening?" Lisa's voice was laced with concern, her eyes searching his for any sign of recognition or recovery.

Around them, the situation deteriorated further; the room was plunged into chaos as others began to clutch at their heads, overwhelmed by a similar, inexplicable agony. Gerhard, in particular, succumbed to the intensity of the sensation, collapsing unconscious, a stark indicator of the severity of the situation.

Bell's grip on reality seemed to slip further with each passing moment, the numbers burning into his consciousness, a relentless beacon amidst the encroaching darkness. The once coherent world around him fractured, leaving him adrift in a sea of pain and confusion, the meaning of the numbers just beyond his grasp. Then, Bell fell unconscious.