Chapter 141

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Chapter 141: Strange Signals on the Radar

Lin Mo pulled the MiG fighter into a high-speed spiral climb, leaping into the clouds like a fish leaping over the dragon gate. He dove back into the cloud cover and quickly locked onto Kauala’s MiG-21. In the blink of an eye, the roles of attack and defense had switched, with Lin Mo closely tailing Kauala like a ghost.

No matter how Kauala maneuvered his MiG-21, Lin Mo kept the opponent within his attack range. Lacking simulation combat modules, he could only communicate through the onboard radio channel. Lin Mo’s voice was like the whisper of death, echoing persistently in Kauala’s ears.

“Cannon fire, five rounds. Three, two, one, hit!”

“Cannon fire, ten rounds. Three, two, one, hit!”

“Missile launch. Three, two, one, hit!”

Inside Kauala’s cockpit, the piercing alarm from the fire control radar rang incessantly, paired with Lin Mo’s emotionless firing commands. Although it felt like a child’s game, those listening to Lin Mo at the Lusaka Air Force Base control tower knew that the small dot appearing on the radar indicated Kauala was in dire straits. If they were using live ammunition, he wouldn’t even have a chance to eject and parachute.

Kauala was terrified to realize he couldn’t escape Lin Mo’s attack angle. The nose of Lin Mo’s aircraft always pointed at him, and had missiles been fired, he would have been hit long ago.

Lin Mo’s spatial awareness was astonishing, unaffected by the chaotic conditions around him. He moved with the grace of a fish in water, combining radar positioning, and even without using the Light Mirror Technique, Kauala’s MiG-21 never left Lin Mo’s sight for a second.

In contrast to Lin Mo’s confident control, Kauala often lost sight of Lin Mo’s aircraft. Yet, the alarm continued blaring, warning him that the enemy wasn’t escaping his vision at all. Regardless of how he maneuvered, he helplessly watched Lin Mo’s MiG-21 dart past his line of sight.

Every pilot who had faced Lin Mo knew that once trapped in his attack angle for over two seconds, escape became impossible. The two aircraft were bound together by an invisible tether, entwined in relentless pursuit.

“Kauala! You’ve already lost. Where do you think you’re going? Come back! Your father, Commander Xin Gaoyuan, is very angry. Come back now!” Major Mora’s voice cut into the channel between Kauala and Lin Mo. “Turn around! You can’t fly any further; ahead lies the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Hurry back!”

Seeing the direction Kauala flew and checking the distant map and coordinates made Mora break out in a cold sweat. Kauala was nearly flying out of the country! The border situation between Zambia and Congo was unstable, especially since the DRC was still engulfed in tribal conflicts and rampant revolts. The government had long been unable to maintain control. Kauala was asking for trouble by flying over there! This was bound to lead to a major incident!

“No, no, no! I won’t give up! I refuse! You can’t defeat me! Lin Mo, let’s continue!” Kauala shouted defiantly, pushing the MiG fighter to full power and breaking into supersonic speed.

Kauala’s MiG-21 lunged and darted through the sky, but Lin Mo wasn’t going to let up, hot on his tail. Since Kauala dared to provoke him, it wouldn’t be easy getting away.

“No way! I won’t lose, absolutely not!” Kauala sounded more like a stubborn child refusing to admit defeat after losing a game than an adult.

This spoiled brat thought he could be a pilot with this pitiful mental resilience, Lin Mo shook his head, letting Kauala go as he pulled up the nose of his aircraft and headed back to Lusaka Air Force Base.

“Kauala, the game is over!” Lin Mo finally stopped chasing and reminded him over the channel. For Lin Mo, the challenge from Kauala, the son of the Zambian Air Force Commander, was just child’s play. If he were using live ammunition, he could knock Kauala out of the sky within ten seconds; if he were flying a J-10, it would take even less than five seconds.

“Captain Lin Mo, you can’t fly any further.” Major Mora urged Lin Mo over the radio channel, warning him not to cross the border and quickly ordered four armed MiG-21s to take off and pursue Kauala.

At that moment, the two MiG-21s were less than seven kilometers from the Zambia-DRC border. Given the speed of the fighter jets, at subsonic speed, a kilometer could be covered in four to five seconds. Lusaka was only about 300 kilometers from the Zambia-DRC border, requiring less than twenty minutes of flight time.

Beep!

Suddenly, two unfamiliar signals appeared on the radar screens of Lin Mo and Kauala.

“Damn it, Captain Lin, Kauala! Return immediately! Those are Su-30s from the Congo! Damn it! They’ve crossed the border! MiG-21, get all units ready at once to bring them back!” Major Mora’s voice was clearly out of control. It was evident the Congo had not only noticed Lin Mo and Kauala’s planes but also inferred what they were doing.

Without live ammunition, and nearing the border, the older MiG-21s were easy targets. The two Su-30s clearly weren’t simply dropping by to say hello.

“No way! We’re not letting this slide!” Major Han Ringuang rushed to Major Huang De, the head of the air force instructor team, explaining that Lin Mo’s situation was somewhat dangerous.

Major Huang De frowned and shook his head. “No, we can’t. Our identities are restricted; we aren’t volunteers. Even if we declare otherwise, it’s too late. If we deploy, it will imply that China has military control over Zambian airspace, leading to serious trouble.”

“What do we do then? Lin Mo’s plane isn’t armed.”

“He’ll have to rely on himself!”

Major Huang De gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. If foreign pilots attacked a third country while in another nation’s fighter, they would immediately lose their neutral status. The third country could declare war against the foreign nation and expel its citizens, seizing all their assets, resulting in tremendous losses.

Otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many undercover pilots during various conflicts. During the Korean War, Soviet pilots didn’t dare to expose their identities even while participating.

Several better-performing FC-20s at Lusaka Air Force Base were still not well mastered by Zambian Air Force trainees. There is no wall that does not allow wind to pass; it would be too obvious for Huang De and his team to pretend to be Zambian pilots flying FC-20s. Flying MiG-21s into battle, however, was of little use. The Su-30s weren’t at the same level as the old MiG aircraft.

“No way! We can’t just sit and watch! Call the embassy immediately for authorization and warn the Congo not to mess around!” Major Han Ringuang realized the air combat exercise had spiraled into a serious issue. This was not a time for blaming fate; action was needed quickly.

“Alright, I’ll contact them!” Major Huang De said with urgency, realizing that what Major Han suggested made sense as he grabbed his phone to reach out to the embassy in Zambia, hoping to get through in time.

The Su-30MK2 formation, charging towards Lin Mo and Kauala, exhibited a clear air of confrontation. These small African nations had no real defense concepts. Seeing a chance, they boldly encroached into Zambian airspace.

“What?! Damn Congo pigs!” Kauala yelled, slapping the glass of the cockpit, as if trying to vent his frustration over being chased by Lin Mo onto the unexpected visitors, the two Su-30s.

Kauala wasn’t a completely hopeless fool; he realized the MiG-21 couldn’t match the Su-30s. He quickly turned his aircraft towards Lusaka, accelerating. If he acted fast enough, the fighters coming to support him could leverage their numbers to drive those two intruders back into the Congo. If luck was on their side, they might even be able to take them down.

Getting shot down while crossing borders would merely be a loss for them. The upper echelons of Congo and Zambia would never allow a war to erupt over this. They would just inflate their pride with excuses to gloss over the incident.

The volatile situation on the Zambia-DRC border had not emerged overnight. The DRC ranked as one of the most chaotic countries in Africa, following Somalia, Libya, South Sudan, and Egypt, holding fourth place in terms of instability. Foreign tourists and workers had been cautioned about their safety.

Air engagements often exploited gaps in each other’s defenses, frequently infringing on one another’s airspace to intimidate.

Both Zambian and Congolese ground radar stations could monitor aircraft in adjoining airspaces effectively.

Minor skirmishes on the border occurred regularly, but hadn’t escalated into full-blown war yet. The government and military high-ups turned a blind eye while those below acted recklessly. Neither side possessed substantial air defense systems; limited imported surface-to-air missiles sat only near the capitals and military bases.

Smaller, impoverished countries with air forces had a hard time sourcing pilots. Given the socio-economic conditions in Africa, finding suitable candidates was no easy task. Pilot resources were scarcer than ever. It wasn’t just about being able to fly; physical attributes, vision, reflexes, learning capacity, and spatial awareness were all essential.

Many countries spent a fortune hiring foreign instructors to train their pilots and sometimes had to employ retired foreign pilots and maintenance crews. Even then, it was common that local pilots struggled to hit the standard of 200 flight hours per year.