Chapter 184
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Chapter 184: Dominance! A Body Full of Stars!
The erratic maneuvering path, if not for the FC-1 Fighter Jet’s slightly deficient agility, should have displayed thirty percent of the Wind Dragon "Sparrow Hunting Trajectory," but it only showed less than ten percent.
Yet this is ultimately the air combat skill of the dragon kin, applied to fighter jets, showing extraordinary brilliance.
With Gold Coin seamlessly integrated into the airframe for protection, Lin Mo could perform various wild maneuvers that didn’t exist in textbooks, swiftly approaching the three Mirage-2000s like a sea holly locking onto sparrows, leaving profound trails in the sky.
The Mirage-2000 missiles could not lock onto the FC-1’s bizarre maneuvering path; the Indian pilots could only fire their cannons continuously, creating a crosshatch of bullet patterns in the sky.
The FC-1 moved like a real dragon, effortlessly weaving through the deadly trajectories of bullets time and again.
The 30mm DEFA cannons could hardly hit the agile form of the FC-1, while the FC-1’s counterattacks made the Mirage-2000s feel anxious.
Entering the attack envelope of the Mirage-2000 formation, another fire dragon burst forth from under the wings of the FC-1.
The gray silhouette of the aircraft flashed by like a lightning bolt, delivering a swift, deadly blow; one Mirage-2000 exploded into a fireball.
"Ah!"
A chorus of screams filled the channel, not from the Indian pilots, but from the Chinese volunteer pilots in the FC-20 formation, infuriated that the damn Dragon Knight had snatched another kill. Were they supposed to play rock-paper-scissors for the last two jets?
But the Indian pilots would not give them that opportunity; the remaining two Mirage-2000s turned and fled, terror gripping their hearts. Faced with such a ruthless opponent, fighting was out of the question—they couldn’t handle this monster.
"Missile lock! Launch!"
The three FC-20s surprisingly entered beyond-visual-range missile lock simultaneously, and three white smoke trails eagerly shot out.
Wow, three spectacular Sparrow mid-range missiles launched at once.
They were overestimating the Indian pilots.
Having exhausted air-to-air missiles and ready to use the limited cannon to finish the fight, Lin Mo saw the Sparrow missiles racing toward the adjusted direction of the Mirage-2000 at Mach 3, not caring which unlucky kid would be targeted by two Sparrows simultaneously.
“These guys!” He turned the aircraft and chased after them, aiming at the Mirage-2000s, adjusting to launch the Rocket Pod. No matter whether it was guided or not, he was clearing everything out.
With a turning radius smaller than the missiles, the FC-1 remained in pursuit of the Mirage-2000.
Swish, swish, swish! It was a spectacular sight, like a volley from a Katyusha! The remaining rockets in the Rocket Pod truly poured out like a nest emptied, and rockets were cheap, so he went all out.
It was unclear whether the Sparrow missiles hit first or the rockets struck first, but the sky erupted in a cloud of fire.
Even in the cockpit, wearing a helmet, Lin Mo could hear the deafening explosions that shook the aircraft, causing it to tremble. To fire the Rocket Pod, Lin Mo nearly chased the Mirage-2000’s tail as he launched.
“Beautiful!”
Cheers erupted from the Persian Cat command center and the Tiger Shark cockpit, reminiscent of the Chinese national football team finally breaking their goal drought and scoring against one of the world’s top ten teams.
“Damn, Dragon Knight, you, you, you…” Meat Sauce struggled to find words in the channel, overwhelmed by the chaos; three Sparrow missiles and a mass of rockets flying around made it spectacular. Even the Indian pilots could not eject in time.
Gold Coin from Sichuan was completely confused, dumbly asking, “Who should claim this?”
“I say, Little Junior Brother, can you leave one for the Senior Brother?” Wild Chicken protested, feeling mixed about the little junior brother’s overwhelming performance.
“Then I’ll give you each half a wing; you can piece together a plane when you’ve got enough one day,” Lin Mo replied happily, shaking off the frustration of being bait for nearly a week.
“Do you think this is like dividing chicken wings?”
“What’s this half a plane nonsense! That’s not fair!”
“Next time I’ll be the bait, and we can take turns.”
Thus, the tardy FC-20 formation began to divide the spoils.
"You?! Come on, without the skills of a Dragon Knight, you’ll only be a target for fireworks."
"Hahaha, can you perform an attack combo? The Dragon Knight can do three or more combo moves in a row, but with your small build, you’d probably get hurt right from the start."
As one pilot complained, others simultaneously launched their close-range air-to-air taunts.
"Don’t bring someone down like that!" The one hit was Gold Coin from Sichuan, who was young and piloting Lin Mo’s FC-20, while the previously damaged FC-20 was still being repaired after returning home.
"Let’s continue tomorrow!"
Lin Mo gripped the control stick with one hand, counting his victories with his fingers. "Four planes shot down directly, one shot down in cooperation, and the other casualties unknown—this is a bit complicated to calculate?!"
He seemed to be preoccupied with counting his earnings. The Pakistani Military had secretly quoted a price of 200,000 RMB for each downed plane and between 50,000 and 100,000 RMB for cooperative kills, including meals and accommodation.
Lin Mo and his team had decided beforehand to present it as paid hiring rather than official military aid, straightforwardly working for money.
The pilots made quick money on this trip, while the ground troops might take much longer to get adequate pay.
For an average person, this amount would be enough to splurge for a while, but for Lin Mo, it was merely a drop in the bucket. The cost of a landing gear alone exceeded 500,000 RMB—how many planes did he need to bring down?
Lin Mo longed to knock all the Indian fighters out of the sky.
"Alright, alright, don’t count anymore; you definitely won’t be short-changed. No wonder your original code name was ‘Gold Coin’; you seem to be swimming in cash."
As Lin Mo’s teammate, Meat Sauce was stunned to hear Lin Mo calculating money in the communication channel. This guy was truly a talented mercenary; the more money offered, the harder he worked.
The four Mirage-2000s put on a firework display, leaving the Indians with a single thought—what a troublesome trap!
This "bait" was scarier than the trap itself; a single FC-1 Fighter Jet took down two Mirage-2000s—so arrogant! The dazzling explosion in the sky instilled fear in the ground troops, both Pakistani and Indian.
The ground crew at Peshawar Air Force Base hadn’t slept a wink the entire night, painting the FC-1’s body with pentagram stars, just as Lin Mo requested, simply to annoy others.
After yesterday’s battle, if the Indians saw a FC-1 decorated with numerous downed plane markers flying overhead, it would drive them crazy. Not just the Indians; even before taking off, the Chinese volunteers were feeling dizzy just looking at it.
There was flaunting, but this was too much!
"Brother, come on, can you not spray so many stars? I called you ‘brother,’ and my eyes are spinning; I’m seeing stars even now." Gold Coin from the Ghoul squad tugged on Lin Mo’s arm, covering his eyes and pleading for mercy.
Pilots had exceptional vision, but this visual bombardment felt like torture to their eyes, more than the typical person could bear.
Wild Chicken, sharing the same space with Lin Mo, watched the refreshed FC-1 Fighter Jet roll out of the hangar, shaking his head and twitching at the corners of his eyes. "You’re harsh; I knew you were from a Chicken Coop!"
He gave a big thumbs-up, turned around, and left, truly unable to tolerate this visual pollution.
When the colorful, starry FC-1 appeared in the air over the ceasefire line, it truly stirred up a hornet’s nest. The Indians were furious. The ZDK-03 warning aircraft, Tiger Shark, had just entered the airspace, and after locking onto the Dragon Knight, the radar screen filled with alarms: eight Su-30s, nine Mirage-2000s, six MiG-29s, and twelve Indian-made LCA Tejas light fighters, representing nearly five squadrons rushing towards Lin Mo’s FC-1 Fighter Jet.
On the radar screen, a small dot appeared, surrounded by a multitude of brightly lit points.
"The Indians have lost their minds!" The Tiger Shark team member, manning the warning radar, felt his teeth nearly biting his tongue.
The people at the Persian Cat command center gasped; these pilots’ terrible ideas had worked, though the effect seemed a bit too overwhelming—too much for them to handle.
When the fish is small, it complains about the large net; when the fish is big, it complains about the small net.
"Take off, take off, quickly! The Lion-Crowned squad launches first, the Black Panther squad second, the Black Spider squad third, and the Wild Wolf squad last!"
The control tower issued takeoff orders to the awaiting fighter squadrons, and simultaneously, the Pakistani Rafique, Mesaur, and other air force bases launched their aircraft.
This was bound to be a tough battle; the fishing plan of the Chinese volunteer pilots had stirred up a monumental hornet’s nest, making conflict inevitable.
"Oh! Naked RMB!"
Trapped in a desperate situation, Lin Mo still had a sense of humor. His radar screen was filled with enemy aircraft, and multiple bright dots raced toward him at high speed.
It went without saying—they were all missiles!
To him, they were just mouse traps before the cash, and he thought he could dodge them without issue.
As Lin Mo prepared to move, the ZDK-03 warning aircraft crew, Tiger Shark, was already busy in a frenzy.
They threw themselves fully into electronic warfare with the Indian Air Force. Lin Mo’s complaint merely brought a helpless smile; this guy was still counting the RMB even when they were under urgent attack.
