Eagle Sauce: The 055 destroyer was launched into the sea just after the founding of the country?

at the same time.

Cairo, Egypt.

Cafes around Liberation Square

Nasser sat at the polished wooden table, twirling a string of somewhat worn Tesby prayer beads in his hand.

The old-fashioned German-made radio in front of him was rebroadcasting the translated text of Wang Bingnan's speech at the United Nations General Assembly in Arabic.

Behind him, the entire street was blocked by an excited crowd.

"Get rid of the hawks! Suez doesn't need cannibalistic friends!"

Several simple Stars and Stripes flags were set on fire.

A thick column of black smoke shot straight into the grayish-yellow sky.

This time, even the military and police who were supposed to be maintaining order simply placed their shields on the ground and pretended not to see anything.

Beside Nasser, a gray-haired advisor whispered:

"Your Excellency, Ambassador John just called. He said he hopes we can exercise... 'appropriate restraint' on this issue."

He also hinted that if the US is overly provoked at this time, the follow-up loans for the Aswan Dam might be affected...

"loan?"

Nasser gave a cold laugh, his eyes displaying the arrogant arrogance typical of a lone wolf in the desert.

"Do they have the spare money and the time to manage our dam?"

“Look,” he said, pointing to the silhouette of the “Black Bird” bomber printed in the newspaper, “and look at this projection. The trick the Chinese have shown is enough to keep them up at night, even if they take sleeping pills.”

"If we don't step up and kick this giant at a time like this... we might not have another chance like this."

Nasser stood up and straightened his collar.

“Send a telegram to all member states of the Bandung Conference.”

"Let me tell you all—Egypt, as a member of the Non-Aligned Movement, expresses its strongest indignation at this inhumane experiment that is rare in the history of human civilization and violates human ethics!"

"and……"

He picked up the sunglasses that were on the table and put them on.

“We demand that the United States withdraw all members of its military advisory group stationed in Alexandria within 24 hours.”

"Because we're afraid they'll 'accidentally' eat us."

……

England, across the Strait of Dover.

Cabinet Room at 10 Downing Street

Prime Minister Eden had never felt the air in the room so oppressive.

Everyone in the room had their heads down, as if studying the grain of the oak table that had been passed down for hundreds of years.

Outside the window, the sound of the marching crowd crashed against the single-pane glass, which was not very soundproof, like the rising tide.

"A disgrace... This is the most embarrassing day in the diplomatic history of the John Empire."

Foreign Secretary Macmillan took off his glasses and irritably wiped non-existent dust off the lenses with a handkerchief.

"The French have just made a statement."

“That old fox de Gaulle… In an interview with Le Figaro half an hour ago, he said: ‘This proves my long-held view—the other side of the Atlantic is sometimes not our salvation, but rather the abyss of our souls’ depravity.’”

"Then, he directly announced the suspension of participation in NATO's upcoming 'Spirit of the Ocean' joint naval exercise. The reason given was... that the French Navy did not want to be 'contaminated'."

"That opportunistic coward!" The Defense Minister slammed his fist on the table in anger.

This is not a matter of cowardice!

Prime Minister Eden turned around abruptly, his face, which was always pale due to poor health, was now frighteningly red.

"This is a fact that even a madman would find hard to accept!"

He pointed to the document on the table, urgently sent by the intelligence department, assessing the authenticity of the holographic video and genetic report—stamped with a red seal representing the highest level of credibility.

"Did you see clearly? Thirty thousand people. Thirty thousand of our own!"

"Even at our most difficult Dunkirk... we never thought of turning our own people into damned ghouls to stop the Germans!"

“This kind of thing…” The Prime Minister’s breathing quickened, filled with the instinctive disgust of having one’s moral bottom line crossed, “It’s not just disgusting. It’s… toxic.”

"If we stand next to them like nothing happened, then this shit... will splatter all over us."

The room fell silent for a moment. The only sound was the crackling of the charcoal in the fireplace as it burned.

"Then... what should we do?" the Chancellor of the Exchequer asked cautiously. "Offending Washington, and what about the pound..."

"offend?"

Eden coldly retorted, "We're saving ourselves now."

"Issuing a statement in my name."

He walked back to the seat that symbolized power, the seat Churchill had once occupied.

But now he lacks the fortitude Churchill displayed when facing his "darkest hour," and instead displays a resolute determination to distance himself from the situation.

"Her Majesty's Government...is deeply concerned about the highly controversial bioethical issues involved in this humanitarian disaster in Cuba."

"At the same time," he paused, "we demand that the United States, as one of the permanent members of the UN Security Council, provide a comprehensive and internationally convincing investigation into the Kowalski incident."

"Until the results are in."

"We will... reassess our cooperation projects with the U.S. in certain 'unconventional technology areas'."

---

South America.

Underground resistance movement centers in countries such as Argentina, Brazil, and Bolivia

Che Guevara, the young Argentinian.

It has now become the embodiment of a certain spiritual symbol for the entire South American continent.

Those blurry photocopies of Castro holding an electromagnetic rifle, and Kowalski's tearful photo identifying the murderer.

It spread like wildfire through the Amazon rainforest, the mines of the Andes Mountains, and the streets of slums.

A Brazilian strike leader stands on an abandoned oil drum, waving a speech he copied from a radio.

"Did you hear that!?"

"Brothers! Miners! Rubber tappers in the rubber plantations!"

"Our enemy...that arrogant vulture! It is not a god!"

"They bleed! They were even so afraid they ate their own babies!"

"Even their own people are starting to oppose them!"

"Our brothers from the Dragon Kingdom have proven... that the Steel Leviathan can be broken!"

"Should we continue to endure the whips of those company bosses? Should we continue to let our children starve to death like worms?"

"Do not!!"

The shouts below were like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing.

"Just like the Cubans!"

"Pick up your gun!"

Burn down the manor!

Countless calloused arms were raised, like a forest.

In those sweat-soaked gaps, a spark called "a single fire" was rapidly spreading from that small Caribbean island to the entire Southern Hemisphere.

Meanwhile, on the distant southern border of the United States.

A group of refugees preparing to enter the country listened to the radio. One of them, an old cowboy, took off his hat with the American flag logo, remained silent for a long time, and finally threw it forcefully into the cactus bushes by the roadside.

Then, without looking back, he walked back the way he came.

"I don't go to places like that."

He said to his son.

"There... even the grass on the ground might have grown from feeding on human blood..."