Chapter 143

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Chapter 143: Let’s Dance Together!

For these small African nations, buying Su-30 heavy attack bombers is more for show than practicality. It’s like the Indian people purchasing the Su-30MKI single-seat model but forgetting to equip it with precision-guided missiles, leading to the absurdity of carrying World War II bombs instead, making their air force the laughingstock of others.

Though the Su-30 is advanced, Lin Mo pays it no mind. The maximum speed of the Su-30 is 2.35 Mach, while the MiG-21, designed for high speed and agility, can reach 2.85 Mach due to its lighter frame and lack of live ammunition. Although it cannot sustain supersonic cruising, the MiG-21 can accelerate faster, gaining nearly 200 meters per second over the Su-30 during short bursts. When it comes to close-range maneuvers, the Su-30, once loaded with ammunition, is at a disadvantage compared to the MiG-21.

The MiG-21 is a classic model, ranked second alongside the F-4 in the top ten fighter jets of the 20th century according to American evaluations, renowned for its maneuverability. Especially in low-altitude maneuvers, despite the Su-30’s higher overload tolerance, its flexibility suffers due to its weight—twice that of the MiG fighter, which complicates its performance.

The greatest difference lies in the pilots. Although the Su-30 is advanced and boasts many advantages over the MiG-21, the skillful handling of its weapons ultimately determines victory. Lin Mo could distinctly sense that both Su-30 pilots were novice-level, far inferior to the trainee pilots back home, lacking both quick reflexes and skillful flying techniques.

While they might be considered decent pilots in African nations, with less than 200 flying hours in a year, even a Chinese trainee still flying training aircraft would likely outperform these two Su-30 pilots. Even if they were flying F-35s, they would still find themselves at Lin Mo’s mercy.

"Hey, hey! What do you want to do? Your fighter jet can’t take this! Are you Kauala or Captain Lin Mo?" One Su-30, numbered 45, clearly startled by Lin Mo’s maneuver, desperately swerved to dodge him. Lin Mo’s MiG barely zipped past the underside of the aircraft, causing the cockpit to shake violently, breaking their formation.

Meanwhile, the other Su-30, numbered 46, hesitated out of fear of collision, keeping a safe distance, cautious not to jeopardize their safety. Lin Mo remained silent, with the MiG-21 deftly clinging to the Su-30. As long as the enemy dared not fire, Lin Mo was confident he could toy with them. This was his specialty, the close-quarters combat experience of a Dragon Knight. In this world, pilots typically used cannons, missiles, or rockets for long-range attacks, but never approached combat in such a disruptive manner. Every pilot is warned in their first lessons: “Don’t get too close to other aircraft.”

Only someone bold like Lin Mo would dare such things. The MiG-21 became an extension of his body, with every movement and adjustment perfectly under his control.

With each rapid supersonic acceleration, the engine wailed with piercing, harrowing cries, severely consuming the MiG-21’s lifespan. At this moment, though, he had no time to consider that; if he didn’t leverage this advantage, he would be forced to surrender and eject, just like Kauala.

Facing two enemies simultaneously was foolish; the best tactic was to focus on one and keep the other from acting. Soft opponents fear hard ones; the hard ones fear those who are reckless; and the reckless fear those who do not value their lives. Lin Mo has always belonged to the reckless type of Air Knight.

"We’re done playing! If you’re not coming with us, then stop. We’re leaving."

"Hey, I’m talking to you, MiG! Don’t go reckless!"

The pilots of the two Su-30s, numbered 45 and 46, cried out in a flurry. The sheer audacity of Lin Mo’s relentless pursuit shocked them, as the continual sonic booms echoed, almost grazing the cockpit of the Su-30 numbered 45. Lin Mo’s MiG appeared dangerously sneaky.

Yet such reckless maneuvers and high-g banking didn’t faze Lin Mo in the slightest. He deftly maneuvered the MiG, dancing between life and death as he toyed with the Su-30s from the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

One slip could lead to a collision, and should scrapes occur, the MiG-21 would not stand a chance against the "air surgical knife" improvements of the Su-30.

But Lin Mo skillfully maintained the slightest margins, astonishingly close—within mere centimeters of a collision—but the MiG danced like a swallow, accurately teasing the numbered 45 Su-30.

Lin Mo fully exploited the supersonic interception capabilities of the MiG-21. If Team 7759 could see this, they would hardly believe that this young lieutenant, who had barely enlisted for a year, could maneuver the MiG with such expertise.

Experienced veteran pilots know that even without weapons striking, the sky is still filled with danger. In formation flying, aside from collisions, there are also wake turbulence and wingtip vortices that can lead to a crash. What instructors patiently emphasize now became Lin Mo’s advantageous weapons.

The extraordinary imagination of a Dragon Knight, when applied to a fighter jet, transformed into an unheard-of killing machine.

As Lin Mo pushed the MiG to a theoretical overload of 5.1G, he forced the Su-30 to struggle to initiate supersonic mode and escape the MiG’s grip. Lin Mo brought the numbered 45 Su-30 to below four thousand meters, and the turbulence caused its engines to scream, shaking the aircraft substantially. At the closest approach of the MiG-21, the resulting sonic boom further disoriented the pilot of the numbered 45 Su-30.

Lin Mo dared to execute such maneuvers, while the two Su-30 pilots lacked the courage. This reckless movement destabilized the Su-30, and as the MiG approached again, it executed a vertical maneuver right above the Su-30 cockpit, engulfing it in the exhaust of the MiG-21’s thrust. The Su-30 appeared completely at the mercy of the MiG-21’s powerful thrust, losing control and beginning to spiral down.

"Let’s dance together!"

Lin Mo’s chilling voice echoed over the public channel, sending a shiver down the spines of everyone listening. Those at the control tower were utterly confused about what Lin Mo was doing, only able to helplessly watch as his MiG-21 entangled with the two Su-30s, while a swarm of MiG-21s, nicknamed "Fish Nest," rushed toward them.

Wingtip vortices!

One of the most terrifying hazards of flight was created by Lin Mo, like a magician casting an ominous spell in mid-air.

Almost simultaneously, as the MiG-21 gained altitude, it also experienced violent shaking and lost control along with the Su-30s. Being a lightweight fighter, the MiG-21 couldn’t remain unscathed while producing the wingtip vortices.

The sky spun, the ground spun, and the clouds turned. The scenery outside the cockpit became a linear palette of colors, blending simultaneously. The terrifying sound of rushing air was distinct, as if the gates of hell were opening.

Both aircraft fell into a dizzying downward spiral, resembling a pair of graceful sprites performing a deathly dance.

"Spin!? Pull up, pull up!" The rear-seat pilot of the numbered 46 Su-30 screamed in horror over Lin Mo’s public channel, urgently alerting the two pilots of the Su-30 numbered 45, who were being toyed with.

"Oh God, save me!"

"Pull up, pull up! Harder, harder, help…"

The pilot of the Su-30 numbered 45 realized in terror that the plane had lost control. The centrifugal force in the cockpit pressed him against the wall, and the seatbelt creaked painfully while his eyes filled with blood vessels, turning red like a rabbit’s. He desperately pulled on the stick to reverse the spin, trying to correct its tailspin at such an altitude—an extremely dangerous position.

One loop, two loops, three loops; the altimeter showed a terrifyingly rapid descent, and he could almost hear death calling.

Meanwhile, Lin Mo’s exceptional physical resilience completely ignored the tailspin’s centrifugal forces. He reversed the spin, pulled back, and manipulated the controls to the absolute limit. With a powerful motion, he quickly executed a recovery from the tailspin.

Finally, after the tenth loop, the spinning abruptly slowed. The MiG-21, like a wild stallion, was brought back under Lin Mo’s control, raising its nose high and charging towards the sky with thunder and flames.

Simultaneously, a massive fireball erupted on the ground, sending thick black smoke rising into the air.

Riding dangerously close, Lin Mo did not rely on his gold giant dragon for protection; for the first time, he narrowly escaped from an altitude of one thousand meters solely through his own skill.

The rookie pilot of the Su-30 numbered 45 had none of Lin Mo’s mental resilience or technical prowess. They had crossed the optimal parachute altitude and lost their calm. In panic, the pilot forgot how to eject, understanding instead the significance of a nearly $50 million Su-30 for the Democratic Republic of the Congo government. He would never ride a plane again; if he returned, he would either die or face severe consequences.

In chaotic Africa, human lives were all but worthless. If national pilots perished, mercenaries could be hired, and with various valuable minerals buried in the land, the higher-ups could continue shaking dollars to recruit new personnel.