A nation's industrial development begins with junior engineers.

Chapter 794 Of all things to steal, why steal gold? He got blown up!

At the mouth of a distant mountain gully, the morning breeze made the hem of their clothes flutter as Jiang Xia and the others stood side by side, looking up into the distance.

The distance was too far to see the specific movements of "Thunderclap," but one could see a silver figure on the distant horizon sometimes circling and sometimes diving up, like a nimble silver blade slicing through the pale blue sky.

Immediately afterwards, clusters of black and red smoke, accompanied by sparks, suddenly rose into the air from the lush green forests of the target area. They were not scattered smoke, but rather pillars of fire carrying scorching heat waves, surging and expanding like flowers of hell exploding on earth, instantly obscuring half of the treetops.

The continuous explosions rolled across the valley like thunder, "Boom - Boom -", and even several miles away, the frozen ground underfoot was still trembling slightly, and even the metal of the armored vehicles made a soft hum.

A more intense "rat-a-tat-tat" sound followed, the 23mm cannon of the Il-28 being strafed, the sound as deep as a steel whip lashing the ground, each sound striking the heart.

Zhou Wenbin and his companions stared wide-eyed, their hands crumpling the mining maps in their hands, their faces pale. They had spent their lives dealing with geological hammers and compasses; they had never witnessed such overwhelming firepower. They felt as if that force could overturn an entire mountain.

Chief Guard Cheng and Reconnaissance Yan remained silent. Their faces were tense, their brows furrowed tightly, and their eyes held a deep, unsettling emotion. The wind ruffled their clothes, but they stood motionless, only their Adam's apples occasionally bobbing.

The sight of the silver eagle before them slowly overlapped with the days when they lay in the trenches listening to the roar of enemy planes. Back then, the sky was gray, and all they could hear were the shouts of their comrades. Now, the sky was blue, and their own planes were flying overhead. But the contrast was so stark that they were speechless.

Jiang Xia squinted, watching the distant column of smoke slowly drift away, a slight smile playing on his lips. He gently nudged the guard captain's arm with his elbow, his voice soft, as if afraid of startling something: "Don't just stand there, this is our own."

A seemingly random sentence made Chief Guard Cheng turn his head sharply.

He looked at Jiang Xia, his eyes still misty, his Adam's apple bobbing several times as if he wanted to speak, but he could only manage a muffled "ah".

It wasn't that he forgot his lines; the words were stuck in his throat, and he couldn't get them out. He raised his hand, his fingertips trembling slightly. He first tried to touch Jiang Xia's ahoge (cowlick), as if touching a rare object, but he hesitated just before touching it, and finally gently placed his hand on Jiang Xia's shoulder.

The shoulder was very thin. Chief Guard Cheng subconsciously squeezed it, his fingertips able to feel the bone beneath the fabric. He still couldn't speak, only looking at Jiang Xia, his eyes slowly reddening. He quickly turned his face away, gazing at the silver eagle in the sky. His Adam's apple bobbed again, and he finally let out a soft "Ah," softer than before, with a slight tremor.

Detective Yan, standing nearby, remained silent. Looking at the silver figure, he suddenly raised his hand and wiped his face.

No one could see whether he was wiping away sweat or tears; they only saw his lips twitch as if he wanted to laugh but didn't, and in the end, he just clenched his fists tighter.

“Our…” Suddenly, a young soldier’s voice drifted over, choked with emotion.

No one gave the order, no one took the lead; the first to raise his fist was a young badge soldier. His fist clenched, his voice trembling with sobs: "It's our own plane..."

These words were like a spark, instantly igniting everyone's anger.

"Ours! Ours!" someone shouted, their voice trembling, a mix of sobs and laughter. The soldiers standing guard beside the vehicle all raised their right fists, their knuckles clenched tightly, pointing towards the silver eagle in the sky.

Some people had tears streaming down their cheeks, mingling with the mud on their faces, yet they still grinned; others shouted until their voices were hoarse, but they kept shouting, pounding their fists on their legs, again and again, with force.

The cheers, like a surge of heat, rolled through the ravine, shaking the very grass.

Ke Cheng, the chief guard, did not shout.

He was still standing there, his hand still on Jiang Xia's shoulder, only slowly tightening a little, and he nodded gently at the silver eagle in the sky.

Detective Yan didn't shout. He wiped his face and then patted Jiang Xia's other shoulder lightly, but very gently.

The wind was still blowing, the sound of the explosion had faded into the distance, and the rattling of the machine gun had also subsided.

The soldiers' cheers gradually subsided; some were still sniffling, and others were still clenching their fists.

Jiang Xia looked at Chief Guard Cheng beside him. His lips moved, but in the end he only said one word: "Okay."

Old Wang, holding the lunchbox brought by Uncle Xiong, happily shoveled a pile of meat into his mouth. Even in his mumbled speech, he expressed his opinion: "Everyone being well is truly good..."

……

"Cave 1, Cave 1, this is 'Watching the Sparrow'. All preset markers in the target area have been attacked, with good results. Repeat, with good results. Final damage assessment coordinates: XX degrees XX minutes North latitude, XX degrees XX minutes East longitude."

"XX degrees XX minutes North latitude, XX degrees XX minutes East longitude?"

Jiang Xia subconsciously repeated the coordinates softly, her eyebrows rising in surprise. She hadn't noticed it at first, but now, thinking back, why did these coordinates seem so abrupt?

Such a professional way of representing geographic coordinates?

When grassroots teams report coordinates, they either say "800 meters east of stake number 3" or "50 meters north of the large bluestone slope"...

When did the militia team brought by my uncle have such talent? How could they use such a standard latitude and longitude reporting format? This is not the habit of ordinary militia or even general troops.

As he hesitated, Xiong Huoyan, the factory director, temporarily granted permission to connect Jiangxia's digital radio to the forward tactical communication line so that his nephew could "have a bang" and have some fun. The radio then came Xiong's loud voice, brimming with boastfulness: "Nephew! How was it? Wasn't the string of firecrackers your uncle set off loud enough? Hahaha!"

Taking advantage of a break in the call, Jiang Xia couldn't help but interject, her tone tentative: "Uncle-Master, are the militiamen at Factory 112... all this professional now? Isn't the training a bit too professional? They're even using standard latitude and longitude coordinates to report their locations?"

"Hahaha!" Xiong Huoyan laughed even more smugly on the other end of the radio. "Guess!"

Guess? Guess my ass! Jiang Xia was so angry he almost ground his teeth into the microphone. This old rascal, all he knows is how to keep you in suspense!

"Hmm?" Just then, Old Wang, who had put down his lunchbox and picked up his binoculars again to carefully examine the distant battlefield airspace, seemed to have discovered something new and curiously interjected, "That's strange... Why is there an An-2 flying slowly over there?"

As he spoke, Old Wang freed his hand to rub his back seat, while giving the badge warriors who had just punched him a rather unfriendly look.

Jiang Xia chuckled to himself as he looked in the direction the man was pointing. A grass-green An-2 was slowly circling above the valley, its propellers spinning steadily, like an old ox pacing in the sky.

An-2?

Jiang Xia was stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized!

It turns out that Uncle Xiong's radio triangulation method was true. At first, Jiang Xia wanted to laugh at Uncle Xiong for talking big again, after all, this guy had a history of such behavior.

To implement this solution, a stable platform is needed to support the precision direction-finding antenna, sufficient altitude is required to reduce ground wave interference and expand the detection range, and long periods of time are needed to perform repeated measurements and cross-positioning!

Rotorcraft have good maneuverability but limited payload; the Il-28 is too fast and focused on attack; only the slow and stable An-2 aircraft is the best platform for conducting airborne radio direction finding and establishing triangulation baselines!

That An-2 wasn't just there for show! It was the "brain" and "eyes" of this precision strike!

"Brilliant! Uncle-Master! Your method is ingenious! Using the An-2 as an airborne reference signal source, the 'Flying Cat Car' can use a radio direction finder to measure its precise azimuth angle with the An-2 reference source near the target area!"

"At the same time, another cat-themed vehicle determined the real-time precise geodetic coordinates of the 'An-2' reference source using known landmarks and other methods!"

"In this way, as long as we know the azimuth between the 'observation point' and the 'baseline source,' as well as the precise coordinates of the 'baseline source,' and combine this with the rough position estimated by the 'observation point' itself, we can use trigonometric and geodetic formulas to deduce the precise latitude and longitude coordinates of the target location observed by the 'observation point'!"

"Wow, that's impressive. Does Factory 112 have someone this capable?"

"Uh...no! But I, Old Xiong, have a lot of influence; I can get someone to help!"

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm embarrassed for you! Young Engineer Jiang, I'm from the 15th Army! Thank you for your optimization of the Il-28 and your detailed explanation of the 'radio triangulation method'! So, our 15th Army..."

"The battlefield will now be taken over by the 15th Army of the 4th Corps! Please evacuate in an orderly manner!"

"And... Comrade Jiang Xia! Thank you!"

"Ah, for the motherland. Besides, you should also thank the personnel from Factory 112 and the original Dongfeng 113 project, the researchers from the Seventh Research Institute... and all those who worked hard for the success of this project..."

There was a long silence on the other end of the radio station.

"Yes, we will. We...will not forget!"

"Really? That's great. Goodbye."

"Okay, see you later!"

Ok?