The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943

Pacific Time, September 18th. One hundred "Superfortress" bombers, watched by the crowd, took off from Amchitka Island and headed for Tokyo. After flying 1,200 kilometers, they refueled midair from C-109 tankers before continuing on the final leg to Tokyo.

"All aircraft have completed aerial refueling!"

With the radio announcement, cheers erupted across the airfield.

As the CEO of the aerial refueling company, Pierre naturally became the center of attention. In their excitement, the soldiers even lifted him up and tossed him high into the air.

Amid the joyful laughter, Pierre could feel the genuine happiness of these American soldiers. After all, for them, bombing Tokyo was their most heartfelt wish.

And Pierre was the Santa Claus who made that wish come true.

In fact, heaven could testify—Pierre wanted this even more than they did!

"Pierre, tomorrow, all of America will know we bombed Tokyo!" Li Mei said, cigar in his mouth, looking at Pierre.

"At that time, no matter the outcome, all of America will cheer. This belongs to us, and to you as well!"

The success of aerial refueling made Li Mei visibly excited. As a strategic bombing expert, he knew very well what aerial refueling meant for strategic bombing: it meant bomber groups could strike anywhere in the world.

"To be honest, I have my own selfish reasons," Pierre said to Li Mei with a wide grin.

His smile was radiant, but as he smiled, he suddenly fell silent, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes—tears for the realization of his dream, and for the soldiers and compatriots who died in this war.

From Nanjing to Tokyo, it was a long road. Now, he too was on that path.

Tokyo time, September 18th, 7:15 a.m. Hideki Tojo, who after the Pacific War had simultaneously held the posts of Army Minister, Home Minister, and later Minister of Education, Commerce, and Munitions—consolidating all power in his hands as the former Prime Minister of the Empire—was, as usual, having breakfast.

His expression was the same as always—a look as if he were mourning his father.

Two months ago, as the Japanese army suffered defeat after defeat in China and across the Pacific, with the Allied counteroffensive in the Mariana Islands pushing ever closer to the Japanese homeland, and following the navy's disastrous losses, the Tojo Hideki cabinet—architect of the Pacific War—found itself beset by crises both at home and abroad, forcing Tojo to submit his resignation as Prime Minister.

Although he had resigned, Tojo was far from willing to accept defeat.

Deep down, he still longed for a comeback, even though he knew the chances of returning to power were exceedingly slim.

"Damn it, how did the war end up like this..."

Staring at the latest battle report, Tojo's expression grew increasingly grim. From the battlefields of China to the Pacific and Southeast Asia, there was not a single piece of good news.

Suddenly, a piercing air raid siren blared.

The abrupt alarm left Tojo stunned. He stood up in shock, muttering to himself:

"An air raid warning? In Tokyo?"

How could this be possible!

Tojo hurried out of his room and shouted,

"Is this a drill?"

This was no drill!

Eighty-nine B-29 Superfortresses had already reached the skies over Tokyo. As the air raid sirens wailed, Tokyo's citizens rushed to the air raid shelters. At the same time, people looked up to see a formation of giant aircraft on the eastern horizon, trailing long white contrails behind them, flying in neat formation across the clear blue sky like schools of silvery fish swimming through the ocean.

Donald was piloting the lead plane—"Nanjing"—the naming rights for which Pierre had exchanged for several boxes of Cuban cigars with Donald and his crew. In fact, it was more than just naming rights; there was a private deal behind it as well.

Amid the roar of the engines, the "Nanjing," as the lead plane, was followed by eighty-eight other B-29s. On their way to Tokyo, eleven planes had to turn back due to mechanical failures.

"Today is a good day!"

Donald smiled as he looked at the blue sky.

There were almost no clouds over the target area, and the objective was clearly visible—the Nakajima Aircraft Engine Factory in Musashino, ten miles northwest of the Imperial Palace. With no fighter escort, and aided by a 120 mph tailwind, the bombers would pass over the target at a speed of about 455 mph, dropping their bombs from altitudes between 27,000 and 32,000 feet.

As they drew closer, Donald said,

"Switch to autopilot! It's all yours, Todd."

At that moment, bombardier Todd took over control, aiming at the target through the bombsight. With the help of the bombing computer, he released the first bomb. The other bombers followed suit, dropping their payloads over the Nakajima factory. Only forty-eight bombs hit the factory, causing minimal damage; the rest exploded at the docks and in the city center.

During the bombing run, the planes continued flying south. After the attack, Donald did not immediately disengage autopilot, allowing the plane to fly several more miles before switching back to manual control.

It was at this moment that the green island at the center of Tokyo—the Imperial Palace—came into view. Co-pilot Thomas swallowed nervously and whispered,

"Are we really going to bomb this place?"

"One thousand dollars!"

Donald replied in a low voice.

"Each of us gets a thousand dollars!"

A thousand dollars!

That was Pierre's reward to them: if they dropped their bombs on the Imperial Palace, each member of the "Nanjing" crew would receive a thousand dollars!

In fact, he had originally planned to offer two thousand.

But these American pilots were so easily swayed; a thousand dollars was enough to buy them off. One could only say, the Japanese Imperial Palace was a bit cheap!

Sometimes, money really is omnipotent.

With enough money, even if you can't go to Tokyo yourself, you can still have bombs dropped on the Imperial Palace.

Despite strict orders forbidding them from bombing the Imperial Palace to avoid damaging it, under the lure of money, Donald still flew over the palace, and Todd, manually aiming, dropped a bomb directly overhead.

Actually, the distance from Nanjing to Tokyo isn't far—just thirty thousand feet!

As the bomb fell, the whistling of its tail fins slicing through the air echoed over the Imperial Palace. Although most Tokyo residents were already in air raid shelters, the Japanese pilots who had scrambled to intercept the bombers were dumbfounded. The pilots of more than a hundred Japanese fighters, upon seeing the "Nanjing" drop its bomb, were all left in shock.

"Baka! That—that's the Imperial Palace! The Americans are bombing the Imperial Palace! Baka, those Americans are dead, dead..."