The danger here was not yet completely over when a third wave of torpedo attacks came.

From three different directions, the torpedoes were launched at increasingly closer distances.

After the first two attacks, the Nimitz carrier's defensive forces had been completely redeployed, leaving it with no spare capacity to intercept the attacks.

It turns out that this final attack was the enemy's real trump card.

"How is this possible?!" Emerson trembled, utterly terrified. "Three ghost submarines? Not one? But three!!!"

White sighed inwardly and urged him, "General, issue a collision warning and prepare anti-sinking and firefighting measures!"

"General?!"

"Huh?! Okay, okay, I'll issue the order right away..."

With a long siren blaring, everyone on the USS Nimitz, from the deck to the interior, went to their designated posts.

Twenty seconds later, the aircraft carrier was about to be hit by a torpedo, and the great American Navy could only watch helplessly, unable to do anything about it.

"General, a second wave of attack torpedoes has been detected in the northwest and northeast directions!"

"18 torpedoes... all expected to hit our ship within 60 seconds!"

The sonar operator's voice was already somewhat hoarse.

His words plunged the aircraft carrier's command tower into an even deeper silence.

Despair and fear quickly spread.

Two timid young female soldiers were sobbing quietly in suppressed emotions.

Emerson was deathly pale as he stared blankly at the aircraft carrier deck below.

On the deck, Super Hornet fighter jets were still racing against time to glide and take off, hoping to escape the next round of torpedo explosions.