Building a Conglomerate in Another World

Chapter 168: Flying Steel?

The morning after the devastating air raid on Bogotá was eerily quiet. Smoke hung heavy over the city, blotting out the rising sun. The once-bustling capital of Gran Colombia now resembled a war-torn battlefield. Streets were littered with rubble and debris, the remains of government buildings lay in ruins, and the acrid smell of burning wood and steel filled the air. Survivors wandered aimlessly, their faces streaked with soot and tears, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and fear.

In the presidential palace—or what was left of it—President Mariano Velásquez stood in what had once been his office. Now, the walls were scorched black, the windows blown out, and the grand desk splintered into fragments. Velásquez, his face pale but his eyes burning with fury, turned to his gathered cabinet and military advisors. The group was smaller than usual; several key officials had perished in the bombing, their absence a glaring reminder of the attack’s toll.

Velásquez’s voice was low and cold, cutting through the heavy silence. "What... were those things?"

General Rodrigo Ibarra, his uniform stained with soot and his arm in a hastily applied sling, stepped forward. His face was lined with exhaustion, but his tone was firm. "Mr. President, our intelligence is still gathering details, but from what we’ve pieced together... they were flying machines. Bombers. Unlike anything we’ve ever seen."

Velásquez slammed his hand onto the remains of the desk, his anger finally breaking through. "Flying steel. Machines that rained fire and death upon our city. How could we not have known about this? How could our intelligence have failed so spectacularly?"

Felipe Ortega, the foreign minister, cleared his throat nervously. "Mr. President, Amerathia’s technological advancements have always been a closely guarded secret. It appears they have taken their partnership with Hesh Industries to unprecedented heights. These bombers... they are a new weapon of war. One we were unprepared for."

Velásquez’s gaze bore into Ortega, his voice dripping with venom. "Unprepared? Is that supposed to excuse this disaster? Our capital is in ruins! Our people are terrified! And Amerathia thinks they can get away with this?"

Ortega hesitated, then replied cautiously, "We must act carefully, Mr. President. Amerathia has clearly demonstrated its technological superiority. If we retaliate recklessly, we may provoke further attacks."

Velásquez clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "And if we do nothing, they’ll see us as weak. This is not just about Bogotá—this is about the survival of Gran Colombia. We cannot allow Amerathia to dictate the terms of this war."

Back in the Amerathian capital, President Theodore Clay reviewed the reports of the air raid with a sense of grim satisfaction. The mission had been a success. Bogotá was in chaos, its government reeling, and Amerathia had sent a clear message: their technological superiority was unmatched.

As Clay addressed his cabinet, his tone was resolute. "This war will not drag on," he declared. "Gran Colombia now knows what they’re up against. If they have any sense, they’ll back down."

Eleanor Moore, the Secretary of State, leaned forward, her expression cautious. "And if they don’t, Mr. President? What’s our next move?"

Clay’s gaze was steely. "Then we continue to strike. This isn’t just about Panama—it’s about securing our place as a global power. We cannot afford to show weakness."

Jonathan Graves nodded in agreement. "The bombers are ready for additional missions, sir. If Gran Colombia refuses to surrender, we’ll cripple them piece by piece."

Clay turned to his military advisors. "Begin preparations for a follow-up strike. Target their supply lines, their military infrastructure. If they want war, we’ll give them war."

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As his advisors dispersed to carry out his orders, Clay remained seated, his mind racing. He knew the risks of escalation, but he also knew the stakes. This was no longer just about the Panama Canal—it was about the future of Amerathian dominance.

And he was determined to ensure that future, no matter the cost.

As the Amerathian war machine roared into motion, preparations for the next wave of strikes unfolded with cold efficiency. In Gran Colombia, Velásquez convened his generals, desperate to devise a strategy to counter the "flying steel" that had decimated his capital.