At 3:37 a.m. local time in the Arabian Sea, radars aboard a US carrier strike group screamed as operators watched the unthinkable: 13 Iranian hypersonic missiles lifting off almost simultaneously from deep inside Iran, streaking toward the USS Abraham Lincoln at blistering speed.
Within seconds, the task force went to full battle stations. Aegis destroyers launched SM‑6 interceptors in rapid salvos, while electronic‑warfare suites blasted jamming toward the incoming tracks. Pilots on the flight deck were ordered to stand down as the carrier swung hard, churning a white wake in the dark water. Several hypersonics were sH๏τ down; at least one detonated close enough to send a towering column of spray over the bow and slam sailors to the deck.

Then came the part that stunned the world. Before Iranian state TV could finish declaring victory, America’s pre‑authorized response plan triggered automatically. Submarines and destroyers fired volleys of Tomahawks; B‑2 stealth bombers already in the air dove in; cyber teams crashed Iranian air‑defence networks. In under an hour, satellite images showed burning launch complexes, shredded radar fields and a key IRGC command bunker reduced to a crater.
Tehran hailed its “historic hypersonic strike.” Washington calmly released cockpit video of hypersonic contrails evaporating under SM‑6 impacts—and infrared footage of Iranian bases erupting in fire.

For allies and adversaries alike, the message was chilling: hypersonic warfare has arrived, but the US answer to thirteen missiles in the air was a playbook that could dismantle a nation’s strike arm before dawn.