Chapter 214: Bombing Campaign
Chapter 214: Bombing Campaign
The map room hummed with subdued energy as Vincent stood before an expansive table, an array of maps and reconnaissance images spread out across its surface. Brandt and the assembled intelligence officers surrounded him, their eyes trained on the markings that had been scrawled across the map in red and blue ink. The recent scan over the continent had revealed demon camps scattered across strategic areas, their positions vulnerable but defensible. Now was the time to strike.
Vincent's eyes narrowed as he studied the intelligence, his gaze flicking over each camp marked with an "X." He traced a line with his finger across the landscape, following the demon supply lines and identifying the weak points in their fragmented forces.
He looked up at the gathered officers, his voice calm yet brimming with intent. "We've spotted multiple demon encampments across these zones," he began, his finger tapping a particularly dense cluster marked in red. "This area holds their supply caches and command nodes. It's time we hit them hard-take out their resources, sever their lines, and scatter their forces."
A murmur of agreement passed among the officers. Brandt nodded, glancing over the map with an expression of steely determination. "Commander, with the B-1, B-2, and B-52 bombers, we can stage a coordinated assault. The stealth capabilities of the B-2 will allow it to get close without detection. Once the initial strikes weaken their defenses, the B-1 and B- 52 can come in and clear the ground."
"Precisely," Vincent replied, nodding. He pointed to a series of camps along the edge of a demon-held forest. "The B-2 will handle this primary target-a fortified demon command outpost. It's heavily guarded, but if we take out their defenses with precision strikes, their forces will be disoriented."
He turned to another section marked further back, a series of supply camps sheltered by dense trees. "Once the B-2 opens the path, the B-1 can come in and handle these locations. The B-52 will provide sustained bombardment on the camps surrounding the command post. This will force them to retreat into the open."
The officers exchanged glances, already envisioning the impact of the assault. Brandt gave a satisfied nod, understanding the layered strategy. "Understood, Commander. Shall we brief the pilots?"
"Yes," Vincent replied, his tone resolute. "Make sure they're fully aware of the layout and their objectives. Timing is crucial. We'll launch the B-2 first, allow for five minutes of air support, then the B-1 and B-52 will follow in formation. Get the crews ready for departure in thirty."
The room cleared as officers and aides moved to prepare.
The airfield buzzed with activity as ground crews ran last-minute checks on the bombers. Mechanics tightened bolts, adjusted flaps, and fueled the planes as pilots made their final preparations. The anticipation was thick, a palpable tension hanging in the cool morning air.
The pilots of the B-2 Spirit, nicknamed "Phantom," climbed into the cockpit, their faces calm and focused as they ran through their checklists. One of the ground crewmen saluted as the canopy lowered, and the engines hummed to life, emitting a faint but powerful thrum.
"Phantom, this is Command. You are clear for takeoff. Proceed to coordinates and engage primary target as directed," came the voice of the air traffic controller through the radio.
"Roger that, Command," the pilot replied, his voice steady.
The B-2 began to roll forward, its sleek form gliding down the runway with a near-silent grace. In moments, it ascended into the sky, disappearing into the early morning mist as it set course for the demon encampment.
High above the continent, the B-2 Spirit soared, its black silhouette blending seamlessly with the sky. The pilot scanned the instruments, noting the radar display that marked the location of the demon command outpost below. A series of coordinates appeared on the heads-up display, marking each intended target.
"Command, this is Phantom. We have visual on target. Beginning descent," came the pilot's voice, calm but edged with determination.
The B-2 Spirit angled downward, gliding through the clouds in near silence, its matte-black wings blending seamlessly into the early morning sky. Below, the demon command outpost sprawled across a clearing, its tents and crude fortifications cast in shadow. Fires flickered within, hints of movement detectable as demons prepared for their day, oblivious to the impending assault.
"Locked onto target coordinates," the copilot murmured, his hands steady over the controls. His eyes flicked across the display, confirming the alignment of their first target: a cluster of guard towers at the perimeter.
"Initiate precision strikes," the pilot commanded, his fingers deftly pressing the release controls.
One by one, the bomb bay doors opened, and the B-2 Spirit released its payload. The GPS- guided munitions dropped silently, plummeting through the air before slamming into the towers with pinpoint accuracy. Explosions erupted in the encampment, bright flashes followed by thick plumes of smoke as the fortifications crumbled. Demons scattered in panic, some caught in the blasts, others screaming commands and rushing to mobilize defenses.
"Target neutralized," the copilot reported, his voice unwavering.
"Phantom to Command, primary defenses down. Proceeding to phase two," the pilot reported.
Vincent's voice crackled over the radio from base command. "Good work, Phantom. Continue with the main encampment. Five minutes until backup arrives. Maintain momentum."
The B-2 banked smoothly to the left, sweeping over the encampment to line up for the next strike. The pilot's gaze remained locked on the heads-up display, marking the demon supply depot situated deeper within the camp. Stacks of crude barrels and boxes, likely filled with supplies and munitions, sat under minimal guard. It was the heart of the encampment's logistical operations.
"Ready second strike, targeting supply lines," the pilot instructed.
A second series of munitions dropped, each one honed in on the supply depot. The blasts tore through the encampment, barrels of demon rations and weapon stockpiles igniting in fiery bursts. Explosions cascaded through the camp as secondary detonations sent shrapnel and flames roaring outward, throwing nearby demons off their feet and plunging the camp into chaos.
As the B-2 Spirit completed its sweep, Vincent's voice cut through the radio, calm but urgent. "Phantom, this is Command. Lancer and Fortress are airborne and en route. Maintain cover. We're moving to full assault."
"Understood, Command. We'll hold position and engage remaining hostiles."
The B-1 Lancer and B-52 Stratofortress were now visible in the distance, approaching the target zone in formation. The B-1's sleek, variable-sweep wings cut through the sky as it took point, its powerful engines roaring as it accelerated into position for the second phase of the assault. The B-52 lumbered behind, a juggernaut of ordnance ready to deliver a punishing
barrage.
"Lancer to Phantom. We have visual confirmation of your strikes. Excellent work," the B-1 pilot radioed as the aircraft circled above, preparing to dive into action. "Lancer, this is Phantom. Be advised, targets are mobilizing south of the main encampment. We've initiated phase one-confirming all major supplies neutralized," the pilot responded. The B-1 pilot acknowledged, steering the Lancer toward the densest pockets of demon forces that were attempting to regroup in the forested areas to the south. As they passed over the enemy formations, the B-1 unleashed a series of high-explosive bombs, each one streaking downwards and detonating in a cascade of powerful blasts. Trees splintered under the force, debris flying as the once-thick forest was leveled, taking scores of demons with it.
"Direct hit," the B-1 copilot announced, watching the devastation spread across the
landscape below.
Meanwhile, the B-52 Stratofortress, circling at high altitude, prepared for its role in the
operation. This was the heavy hitter, loaded with enough ordnance to level an entire district if needed. Vincent's voice came through once again, firm and authoritative.
"Fortress, your target is the command structures at the center of the encampment. We want
full saturation. Leave no stronghold standing."
"Roger that, Command," the B-52 pilot responded.
The B-52's bomb bay doors swung open, revealing rows of bombs poised for deployment. With a low rumble, the bombs began to drop in rapid succession, falling in a steady stream toward the demon encampment below. The ground trembled as the bombardment began, a relentless barrage of explosions consuming the camp. Each blast sent shockwaves through the area, scattering demons, tearing through hastily-erected defenses, and reducing structures
to flaming rubble.
From the B-2 Spirit above, the pilot and copilot watched as the encampment was systematically obliterated. Their screens displayed the destruction, fires raging across the landscape, thick smoke curling into the sky.
"Command, this is Phantom. Visual confirmation of widespread target destruction. Requesting permission to circle for cleanup operations," the B-2 pilot transmitted. "Permission granted, Phantom," Vincent's voice came through, steady but carrying a tone of grim satisfaction. "Let's ensure nothing remains. No loose ends."
The B-2 completed another pass, releasing a final series of munitions to clear out any remaining resistance pockets. In the distance, a few demon stragglers attempted to flee the devastation, but they were swiftly met by the B-1's strafing runs, the aircraft's precision ordnance eliminating the last remnants of organized resistance.
"Command, this is Lancer. All enemy positions confirmed neutralized. Returning to base," the B-1 pilot radioed, his voice carrying a note of finality.
The B-52 followed suit, its engines roaring as it turned back toward the airfield. The bombing
run was complete, the demon encampment left as little more than smoking ruins and
scattered embers.
Back at base, Vincent and Brandt stood side by side, watching the live feed display the
wreckage and the clouds of smoke spiraling into the sky. The operation had been a success- and surely, this would gain the attention of the demon lord.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om