Chapter 381: Kaizer Fights Back
The first strike came before dawn.
Radar stations along the eastern Mediterranean detected dozens of aircraft lifting into the night, but by then it was already too late.
Far above the clouds, stealth bombers crossed the coastline without lights while electronic warfare aircraft flooded military frequencies with interference powerful enough to cripple communications across entire provinces. Radar operators watched their screens dissolve into meaningless static as every attempt to restore contact failed.
Inside the central headquarters of the Blood Dunes, alarms erupted simultaneously.
"They’re jamming us!"
"We’ve lost the northern radar array!"
"Satellite uplinks are offline!"
Before another report could be delivered, the command bunker shook violently.
Boom!
A precision missile struck the communications complex several kilometers away. The reinforced structure folded inward as antennas hundreds of feet tall crashed into one another in a shower of sparks.
Then another impact followed.
Across Lebanon, carefully selected military targets erupted almost simultaneously. Long range radar stations disappeared beneath pillars of fire. Air defense batteries detonated before their operators even realized they had been targeted. Ammunition depots became towering infernos that illuminated entire mountain ranges.
The attack lasted less than ten minutes.
By the time the smoke began rising, the Blood Dunes had already lost much of their ability to coordinate their forces. Deep inside an underground command center, officers shouted over one another while emergency generators struggled to keep the facility alive.
"Communications with the southern sector have been lost!"
"The Bekaa command no longer responds!"
"We’ve lost three missile batteries!"
A general slammed both fists onto the operations table.
"Where are they attacking from?"
"No visual confirmation!"
"They’re beyond our radar coverage!"
The answer only deepened the panic. The enemy could see them, yet they could not see the enemy.
Far out at sea, enormous aircraft carriers drifted silently through the Mediterranean while destroyers maintained a protective screen around them. From their decks, fighter aircraft launched one after another into the dark sky, disappearing eastward before the previous squadron had even vanished from sight.
Inside the carrier’s combat information center, glowing digital maps tracked every aircraft, every missile and every hostile transmission in real time.
"First wave complete."
"Minimal resistance."
"Enemy integrated air defenses collapsing."
"Proceeding to phase two."
Thousands of miles away, the order was confirmed. Within minutes, a second wave crossed the coastline. This time the targets changed.
Armored divisions preparing to reinforce Beirut found bridges collapsing ahead of them. Fuel depots erupted into fireballs. Convoys stalled as precision strikes destroyed the lead and rear vehicles simultaneously, trapping everything in between.
Military airfields suffered the same fate.
Runways fractured beneath repeated impacts until no aircraft could safely take off. Fighter jets remained stranded inside burning hangars while attack helicopters never left the ground.
Throughout Lebanon, civilians watched the night sky flash with distant explosions while rumors spread faster than verified information.
"The Americans are here."
Across the front lines, rebel units cautiously emerged from their positions, stunned by the sudden disappearance of the artillery that had been shelling them for days.
One former army captain lowered his binoculars.
"The batteries..."
He blinked several times.
"They’re gone."
Around him, exhausted civilians stared toward the horizon where thick columns of smoke climbed into the morning sky. The relentless bombardment that had dominated their lives simply stopped.
For the first time in weeks, silence settled over entire neighborhoods. Only the crackling of distant fires remained.
Far above the battlefield, Damian stood upon the clouds with his hands resting behind his back. The wind carried the smell of smoke toward him while flashes of orange continued blooming across the country below.
Rin landed softly upon his shoulder.
"They’re moving exactly as expected."
Damian nodded.
"It’s natural that the United States can crush a small country like Lebanon with ease. Personally, I won’t make any judgment until I see how my brother plans to respond to this."
Rin nodded. With war now declared between brothers, it had always been expected that Kaizer would make a move to aid his side. What neither of them knew was how he intended to pull it off.
One after another, Blood Dunes strongholds disappeared from the tactical map unfolding within Damian’s consciousness. Yet his expression never softened.
This was only the opening move.
Wrath had ruled the Middle East through hidden influence for at least a century. They would not disappear in a single night, and very quickly that belief proved correct.
The opening victories lasted less than forty eight hours.
At first, every operation unfolded exactly as the Pentagon had predicted. Carrier strike groups dominated the eastern Mediterranean. Stealth aircraft operated almost without opposition while precision missiles dismantled military infrastructure faster than it could be rebuilt. Analysts confidently concluded that the Blood Dunes would collapse within a week.
Then the impossible began.
The first indication came from an F 35 squadron returning from a successful strike against an artillery position outside Beirut.
"Crossing back into Lebanese airspace."
"Altitude thirty thousand."
"Systems green."
For barely two seconds, everything remained normal.
Then every warning light inside the cockpit illuminated simultaneously.
"What the..."
The pilot never finished.
Boom!
The aircraft erupted into a massive fireball without any missile ever appearing on radar. The explosion was so sudden that the remaining pilots instinctively pulled away.
"Viper One is down!"
"No missile launch!"
"I repeat, no missile launch!"
Before anyone could process the report, another aircraft vanished.
Then another.
Within moments, the squadron had lost half its strength.
Far away aboard an American destroyer, officers stared in disbelief as dozens of radar operators searched desperately for the source of the attacks.
"Nothing!"
"There are no aircraft, no missile signatures, no heat sources and no radar contacts!"
The commander slammed both hands onto the console.
"Then what the hell is killing my planes?"
Nobody could answer the question.
Within hours, reconnaissance drones suffered the same fate. Cruise missiles disappeared from radar seconds after crossing the Lebanese border. Armed helicopters detonated in midair without ever reaching their objectives.
Satellite footage showed only brief flashes of crimson light before every aircraft simply ceased to exist. The Pentagon initially believed it to be an undiscovered anti aircraft weapon.
That theory lasted until the Navy became involved.
Far out in the Mediterranean, the USS Bunker Hill maintained position alongside the carrier strike group while Aegis radar scanned hundreds of miles in every direction.
The bridge remained calm.
Then every alarm activated at once.
"Unknown energy spike!"
"Source?"
"We don’t have one!"
"What does that mean?"
"It means... it appeared inside the ship!"
Before anyone could react, crimson cracks spread beneath the deck plates like veins of molten lava. Several sailors stepped backward in confusion as the steel beneath them exploded.
Boom!
The entire warship lurched violently as an internal explosion ripped upward through multiple decks. Fire erupted from within the vessel itself as though something had ignited inside its very skeleton.
Men were thrown overboard while helicopters parked on deck toppled into the sea. The captain struggled to remain standing.
"Damage report!"
The response never came as a second explosion tore the vessel completely apart. From satellites overhead, the destroyer simply disappeared beneath a towering column of fire before slowly sinking into the Mediterranean.
Within minutes, identical reports emerged across the fleet. Anything attempting to support operations near Lebanon suffered catastrophic destruction. It was as though the nation itself rejected anything flying above it or sailing toward it.
Inside the White House Situation Room, silence dominated the room. The President stared at casualty reports piling across the conference table.
"We’ve lost another twelve aircraft."
"The Seventh Destroyer is gone."
"Our missile inventory has achieved almost zero effectiveness."
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs slowly folded his hands before looking around the room.
"I’ve spent forty years studying warfare. I have absolutely no explanation for this."
"So what do we do now?" President Vance asked.
The Secretary of Defense finally broke his silence.
"If we cannot dominate from the air, then we go in on the ground."
It was the only viable choice, so no one objected.
Within days, American Marines and Army units began landing along secured sections of the coastline under the protection of overwhelming naval gunfire. Unlike aircraft, men could still cross into Lebanon. Entire mechanized brigades rolled inland.
M1 Abrams tanks spearheaded the advance while Bradley fighting vehicles transported infantry through ruined suburbs. Combat engineers cleared barricades while special operations teams secured major intersections.
For the first several hours, resistance remained light. Many Blood Dunes soldiers simply retreated while others even surrendered. For a while it seemed this approach was working until they met Wrath’s true devotees.
The first encounter happened inside a ruined district on the outskirts of Beirut. A platoon rounded a collapsed apartment complex when dozens of black robed figures emerged from the smoke. There was no fear in their eyes. Only absolute fury.
"Contact front!"
The Marines immediately opened fire.
Hundreds of rounds tore into the advancing men. Ordinary soldiers would have fallen, but these men kept running. Bullets shattered ribs. Arms were blown away. Legs snapped beneath heavy caliber fire, yet they continued advancing.
One devotee lost half his jaw to a rifle burst, yet continued sprinting until he reached the American line. He grabbed a Marine by the vest and drove both of them through a concrete wall before finally collapsing.
Another continued fighting despite both lungs having been destroyed. Blood poured from his mouth with every breath, yet his sword never stopped swinging.
"They won’t go down!"
"Keep firing!"
"Headshots!"
Even headshots failed to stop some immediately. Several continued moving for precious seconds after suffering wounds no human body should have survived. It was as though their muscles ignored agony itself. These men fought until their bodies physically failed.
Elsewhere, another American battalion attempted to secure a government district. Three Blood Dunes devotees charged directly toward an Abrams tank.
The machine gun cut two of them apart, but the third reached the tank anyway. The man laughed and screamed at the same time as his entire body burned with a crimson aura before hurling himself beneath the vehicle.
Boom!
The explosion lifted the seventy ton tank onto one side. Nearby infantry watched in disbelief.
"He killed himself just to destroy one tank."
Across Lebanon, identical reports flooded American command. Enemy combatants ignored suppressive fire and every engagement devolved into brutal close quarters combat.
Every street had to be taken building by building. Floor by floor. Room by room. Every Blood Dunes devotee fought like a man who had accepted death long before the battle had ever begun.