Building a Conglomerate in Another World-Chapter 167: The Aircraft Debut

The sun blazed overhead as Matthew Hesh sat in the temporary office set up near the canal construction site. Stacks of blueprints, logistical reports, and survey maps cluttered the desk in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere. The tension in the camp had grown unbearable since the skirmish with Gran Colombian forces. Workers kept glancing over their shoulders, wary of another attack, and the Amerathian troops stationed nearby were visibly on edge.

Amber entered the room, her face drawn with worry. "Matthew, we need to talk," she said softly.

Before Matthew could respond, a soldier entered, carrying a sealed envelope. "Mr. Hesh, this just came in from the White House. It’s marked urgent."

Matthew took the envelope, his heart sinking as he recognized the presidential seal. Breaking it open, he read the letter, his expression growing grimmer with each passing sentence.

[Mr. Hesh,

In light of recent escalations in Panama and the continued aggression of the Gran Colombian Republic, I am declaring the canal region a warzone. Effective immediately, all civilian personnel, including engineers, workers, and their families, are to evacuate the area.

Your safety and the safety of your team are of utmost importance. Amerathian troops will assist in the evacuation process to ensure your swift and secure departure.

Furthermore, the Great Amerathian Republic has officially declared war on the Gran Colombian Republic. Measures are being taken to secure Amerathian interests in the region.

Do not delay.

Respectfully,

Theodore Clay

President of the Great Amerathian Republic

]

Matthew set the letter down, his hands trembling slightly. Amber reached out, her eyes scanning his face. "What does it say?"

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He exhaled deeply. "The President has declared war on Gran Colombia. We’re being ordered to evacuate immediately. This place is going to become a battlefield."

Amber’s face paled, but she nodded. "We need to tell the others."

Matthew stood, folding the letter and slipping it into his pocket. "Let’s gather everyone. This isn’t a request—it’s a direct order."

The camp was a flurry of activity as Matthew addressed the engineers, workers, and Amerathian soldiers. His voice was steady, but the gravity of the situation was clear. Your journey continues at novelbuddy

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "we’ve received official word from the White House. The canal region has been declared a warzone, and we’re under orders to evacuate immediately. Troops will escort us to the nearest port, where transport ships are waiting."

The murmurs of concern rippled through the crowd. One of the engineers, Victor Lachance, stepped forward. "What about the equipment? The blueprints? Everything we’ve worked on?"

Matthew shook his head. "We can’t take everything. Prioritize the essentials—the documents, the designs. Leave the heavy equipment. Our lives are more important than any machine."

The workers and engineers scrambled to pack their belongings while Amerathian soldiers maintained a protective perimeter. Amber moved quickly, helping organize the evacuation and ensuring no one was left behind.

The group piled into trucks and jeeps, leaving the once-bustling construction site behind. As they rumbled toward the port, the jungle seemed to close in around them, the oppressive heat and humidity making the journey even more grueling.

Finally, the convoy reached the coast, where ships bearing the Amerathian flag awaited them. Soldiers ushered the evacuees aboard, and as the ships pulled away from the dock, Matthew stood on the deck, watching Panama fade into the horizon.

Amber joined him, placing a hand on his arm. "We’ll come back," she said, her voice firm. "This isn’t the end of the canal."

Matthew nodded, though his gaze remained fixed on the disappearing shoreline. "No, it’s not the end. But it’s going to get worse before it gets better."

Back in the Oval Office, President Theodore Clay sat at the head of a long table, flanked by his top military advisors and cabinet members. The atmosphere was tense, but Clay’s resolve was unwavering.

"Is the operation ready?" Clay asked, his piercing gaze fixed on General Jonathan Graves.

"Yes, Mr. President," Graves replied. "Hesh Industries has provided the bombers, and they’re being outfitted as we speak. The crews are experienced, and the mission parameters are clear. We’ll strike Bogotá directly."

Secretary of State Eleanor Moore leaned forward, her brow furrowed. "Mr. President, this is a significant escalation. An air raid on the Gran Colombian capital could provoke retaliation we’re not prepared for."

Clay’s expression hardened. "Eleanor, they attacked our people. They killed our civilians. This isn’t escalation—it’s justice. Bogotá is their center of command. If we hit them hard enough, they’ll think twice about continuing this war."

Graves nodded. "The bombers will target military installations, government buildings, and key infrastructure. The goal is to cripple their ability to coordinate and supply their forces in Panama."

Clay stood, his hands resting on the table. "Then proceed. Launch the operation tonight. I want Bogotá to know that Amerathia will not be pushed around."

As night fell, a squadron of sleek, silver bombers bearing the insignia of Hesh Industries roared down the runway of an Amerathian airbase. The engines hummed with deadly precision as the aircraft lifted into the sky, their payloads loaded with high-explosive ordnance.

The lead bomber’s pilot, Captain Daniel Hawthorne, adjusted his headset. "Command, this is Eagle One. We’re en route to the target. Estimated arrival in two hours."

"Roger that, Eagle One," came the reply from the control tower. "Proceed as planned. Good luck."

The flight to Bogotá was uneventful, the bombers cruising high above the cloud cover. Below them, the sprawling jungles and mountains of Gran Colombia stretched out in shadowy relief.

As they neared the capital, the bombers descended, breaking through the clouds to reveal the city below. The lights of Bogotá twinkled like stars, a stark contrast to the destruction about to rain down.

"Target acquired," Hawthorne said, his voice steady. "All units, prepare to drop payloads."

One by one, the bombers released their bombs. The first explosion lit up the city, followed by another, and another. Government buildings crumbled under the impact, roads were torn apart, and the air filled with smoke and fire. The sound of the explosions echoed across the city, a deafening reminder of Amerathia’s might.

From his vantage point in the presidential palace, Mariano Velásquez watched in horror as the city burned. His hands clenched into fists, his face pale with fury.

"This is war," he muttered, his voice shaking. "They’ll pay for this."