In the grand expanse of the commanding hall for military operations, an air of sorrow hung heavy. Dominating the immense central display screen was a vivid projection of satellite-linked images, which unfolded before the assemblage.
Upon the open sea!
Both naval vessels continued their inexorable descent into the depths, their severe tilting glaringly evident. One ship, in particular, lifted its stern to a remarkable height, even to the extent of exposing the submerged propeller.
The hearts of the onlookers bled collectively, their empathy poignant and palpable.
A lamentable realization surged through the room. These were the pinnacle of guided missile destroyers, each an investment of considerable value. The country's reserves boasted only a handful of these vessels, and they were now irrevocably compromised.
On the sea's surface, sailors became mere apparitions, their forms ephemeral and vulnerable to the perilous embrace of the waves.
"It's concluded, all is lost," a somber military officer approached, his visage a mirror of desolation. "Your Excellency, what course of action do we take?"
Matthew Ryan's countenance transformed into a tableau of discontent, his expression rife with frustration. "Initiate immediate communication with our fleet. Mobilize a rescue operation," he declared through gritted teeth.
A voice interjected with an unsettling revelation, "Your Excellency, I've investigated. There is a regrettable lack of our own vessels in proximity to the disaster zone. Not even a solitary merchant ship."
The gravity of the news reverberated through the room.
What!
Shockwaves of consternation rippled through the gathering. The location of the incident was situated in the ocean's heart, at an unfathomable distance from the nearest mainland, separated by a thousand nautical miles.
The scene of the crisis unfolded thousands of kilometers beyond the reach of Country E's territory. Within that sea expanse, their vessels navigated, acting at the behest of Country M's requests, their role mere pawns in a larger strategy.
But not a single one of their vessels was within reach.
What avenue remained? A question echoed desperately.
"Your Excellency, over three hundred crew members are stranded at sea. These are our elite sailors. We must mount a rescue effort!" implored another voice, fraught with urgency.
"Your Excellency, General, may I suggest broadcasting an international distress signal? Enlist the aid of any nearby vessels, irrespective of their flag, to hasten to the site and lend aid."
"Your Excellency, General..."
The passage of time seemed interminable until Matthew Ryan finally voiced his decision, each word measured. "Then, dispatch the international distress signal."
He was all too aware of the implications. The signal's issuance would necessitate relinquishing pride and dignity.
Anticipating the event's imminent revelation, it was but a matter of time before neighboring nations and foreign shores alike became privy to the debacle.
The matter was ignominious, a blow they couldn't evade.
The forthcoming storm was impossible to elude.
If the adversary succeeded, the narrative would reshape itself, and falsehoods would parade as truth.
What recourse remained?
A wry, almost rueful chuckle escaped.
In the confines of necessity, only one path presented itself, despite the price it exacted. Over three hundred elite lives hung in the balance, leaving Matthew Ryan with no alternative but to issue that international distress signal.
As for the aftermath, as for orchestrating an apt narrative, the wheels of strategy were already in motion within Matthew Ryan's cogitations.
"May the Global Shipping Group refrain from exploiting this incident for spectacle…" he muttered, his plea whispered into the unyielding abyss.
Out at sea.
A mere hundred nautical miles distant from the calamity's epicenter, a colossal container ship traversed the ocean expanse. It bore an insignia that denoted its affiliation with the Global Shipping Group, a customary sight along these international waters.
"Captain, an international distress signal has been received on our public channel. Two of Country E's naval vessels have sunk. They beseech all vessels in proximity to lend assistance."
"Curious," mused Captain Ji Hongjiang, brows knit in perplexity. The sea offered no fierce turbulence to account for a vessel's misfortune.
Could conflict have broken out? Yet, the incident site remained distant, far removed from the mainland of Country E. The circumstance baffled reason.
In pursuit of clarity, Ji Hongjiang concluded that intervention was vital. He lifted the satellite phone, poised to seek guidance from his superiors.
Instructions arrived promptly, routed to Liu Yong. Qiu Yang entered Liu Yong's sanctum, his brow furrowed in concern. "Boss, our vessel Shishi has solicited instructions…"
Liu Yong listened intently, Qiu Yang's account unveiling a curious tale. An undertone of jest inflected Liu Yong's chuckle.
Qiu Yang detected a subtlety in his boss's laughter, prompting inquiry. "Boss, is there some hidden intricacy here? Is there a complication?"
Liu Yong's eyes danced with a knowing gleam. "Absolutely, Qiu Yang. Our Blue Whale and Shiwang found themselves on the brink of capture by Country E's navy…"
The account woven by Liu Yong unfolded before Qiu Yang, painting a vivid tapestry of audacious maneuvering.
Uncertainty shaded Qiu Yang's countenance. "And our ships? Are they secure now?"
"They've slipped the snare," assured Liu Yong, confidence radiating from his demeanor. "Country E's navy harbored lofty illusions."
A grin surfaced, concealing the secret guardian named Overlord, unseen but potent in its guardianship. The audacity of Country E's navy to ensnare the "Blue Whale" and "Shiwang" was nothing but folly, given the hidden sentinel's vigilant watch.
Unbeknownst to Qiu Yang, Overlord was Liu Yong's concealed gambit, a play reserved for the highest stakes.
Bawang remained veiled in Qiu Yang's knowledge, yet the aura of certainty projected by Liu Yong allayed his reservations.
"Boss, a distress signal from our vessel beckons. Should we extend aid?" Qiu Yang queried.
Liu Yong deliberated, a scheme already laid bare within his thoughts. "We've assisted in prior crises, though the number saved should not exceed ten. A symbolic gesture of rescue will suffice."
"Understood. I'll relay instructions to Shishi, urging them to proceed to the incident site for limited rescue operations."
However, Qiu Yang's motion was stilled by Liu Yong's voice. "Mr. Qiu, Country E's navy endeavors to apprehend our vessels. This affront demands recompense. The Global Shipping Group is not to be trifled with."
Qiu Yang sensed unwavering resolve in Liu Yong's words.
"Boss, what's our course of action?"
Liu Yong's strategy was a foregone conclusion, a plan calculated long before. "Convene a press conference forthwith. Illuminate the matter, condemn Country E's navy with force. Unveil our stance without reservation."
Qiu Yang exited, embarking on the task assigned.
In less than half an hour, the news reverberated through the Global Shipping Group's official channels. Video clips accompanied the damning narrative.
The Group's official denouncement echoed resolutely, a clarion of condemnation aimed at Country E's naval actions. A
press conference was scheduled, its purpose to broadcast the Group's stance on the matter.
Afternoon descended.
Within the Global Building's News Hall, an audience swelled. Cameras poised, journalists prepared for the spectacle. Qiu Yang and his compatriots from the Group stood before the assemblage, their gazes steadfast.
The press conference, a momentous occasion, commenced at four o'clock.
Addressing the world, Qiu Yang's voice carried gravitas. "Esteemed attendees, friends, welcome to Global Shipping Group's press conference. We gather today with heavy hearts, to divulge a truth. At approximately 1:00 p.m., an unsavory incident transpired upon the waters of the North Pacific Ocean..."
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