Song Heping's analytical logic was precise and thodical, connecting seemingly unrelated technical nodes and tactical elents, quickly integrating them into a stunningly operable plan.
In the command center, other staff who had been dejected due to the unfavorable situation were drawn in, hope rekindling on their faces, the sound of whispered discussions filled with excitent.
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant, old squad leader!"
Jiang Feng excitedly clenched his fist into his palm, looking at Song Heping with admiration, "Using the lowest tech combination to produce the highest tech effect! Your mind truly deserves to co from our top Special Forces veteran!"
"There's no ti to lose! The front line can't wait!"
Song Heping showed no trace of pride, imdiately demonstrating his decisive and efficient side, turning to the relevant officers to issue a series of clear and urgent commands:
"Order! First, the drone squad is to imdiately cease all non-essential reconnaissance tasks, concentrate all technical resources, select the twenty drones with the largest payloads, conduct a comprehensive inspection, and stand by ready!"
"Second, the head of the munitions departnt should personally lead a team to use the previous airdrop release device as a blueprint, combine it with the body structure of the 80-milliter mortar shell, and urgently retrofit a chanical claw suitable for suspension and release! I don't care how you do it, I want results in the shortest possible ti!"
"Third, select the best operators, observers, and mortar squad leaders from the drone and artillery units, imdiately form a temporary 'Aerial Mortar Team', simulate the attack process, familiarize with the shell characteristics, master the ergency evasive maneuvers after releasing the bombs! We need to be fast, deploy into combat at the fastest speed, and destroy the opponent's truck-mounted artillery!"
Orders stood like a mountain, instantly activating the limited logistical and technical resources of the "Liberation Forces", making them operate efficiently.
The mbers of the urgently assembled 'Aerial Mortar Team' gathered around the sand table and drone control consoles to engage in tactical discussions.
The intense sound of discussion was incessant:
"Altitude must be controlled between 80 and 100 ters! Lower, the drone becos vulnerable to small arms; higher, the descent trajectory of the shell is affected, and accuracy can't be guaranteed!"
"When releasing a bomb, the drone's position must be absolutely stable, best in hover mode! Speed fluctuations will greatly affect the impact point!"
"The fuse safety must be re-confird before takeoff! Ensure the shell is in a ready state after leaving the drone, detonating upon impact! We can't give the enemy any reaction ti!"
"Operators and ammo personnel must coordinate, the release order must be clear and decisive!"
The air was filled with tension brought on by intense concentration.
Ti passed by the second, each second accompanied by bad news coming from the front line.
A tense half-hour felt like an eternity.
When the afterglow of the sunset stained the horizon with a bleak red, the first batch of four temporarily modified 'bombing drones' were ready on the launch pad.
Hanging below them was an 80-milliter mortar shell, combining a crude suspension system with the high-tech drone platform, creating a strikingly contrasting killing tool.
At this mont, the pressure on the front line was on the verge of collapse.
Mortar shells, like raindrops, kept battering the already battered defenses of the "Liberation Forces".
It was then that the communication channel carried the urgent and clear voice of the forward reconnaissance unit, "'Hive' calling 'Falcon'! Important target found! Zone C-7, inside the forr 'Cal' repair yard, two truck-mounted artillery units are resting, suspected of resupplying ammunition and undergoing vehicle maintenance! Coordinates have been transmitted! Periter defenses are slack!"
The command center's large screen imdiately switched to the high-definition images returned by the reconnaissance drone—
Under the setting sun, two homade truck-mounted artillery units, modified from M35 trucks, sat quietly in the yard stained with oil and debris.
A dozen 1515 Ard personnel were scattered around, so moving crates of ammunition from another truck, so with tools hamring at the tires, others sitting around smoking and drinking, appearing very relaxed.
They clearly believed this distance and location to be safe, fully imrsed in a brief rest before the attack, without any awareness of the cold "electronic eyes" high above them.
Song Heping took a deep breath, then issued the order through the communicator: "Drone squad, execute the hunting operation imdiately! Free hunt! I wish you a successful hunt!"
"Drone squad understands! 'Swarm' is deploying, beginning descent to enter the attack vector!"
In response, the operator's voice was calm to the point of being cold.
The four 'bombing drones' carrying their deadly payload buzzed into the sky like disturbed hornets.
They skillfully approached the abandoned repair yard silently from different directions.
The rotor's high-speed whirring was perfectly masked by the distant continuous artillery and the battlefield's inherent clamor.
On the command center's screen, split screens showed the first-person views of the four drones.
The images gently rocked, as the drones adjusted their positions in the air currents.
The view shifted from a broad high-altitude perspective to a focused low-altitude assault angle. The target rapidly enlarged on the screen, its outline growing clearer, the mottled green paint on the truck artillery's body, rough welding marks, and the dirty robes and headscarves of the ard personnel becoming eerily visible.
Faces worn with fatigue and laxity occasionally glanced skyward, actions purely habitual, their eyes unfocused on the little black dots that silently and nacingly approached from the realm of the Grim Reaper.
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