Chapter 185
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Chapter 185: When Ejection Becomes a Luxury
The Indian Air Force changed its previous approach of not deploying warning aircraft, sending out two Israeli-made A-50EIs (with the letter "E" standing for export and "I" for India) known as Phalcon warning aircraft.
The two Phalcon aircraft engaged the Pakistani Tiger Sharks in an invisible electronic battlefield, where they fought fiercely with various interference patterns, reconnaissance locking, true and false signals, and data packet intrusions, driving all the crew members within the cabins nearly crazy.
"Hurry up, suppress them using C26 mode! Send a standard false attack data packet! They have two warning aircraft—hahaha, we’ll keep attacking!"
"Stop your nonsense, establish a firewall, lock them in, don’t let them intrude, and use simulated fire control radar for illumination!"
"Block all frequency bands! Did anyone find their channel mode? We need to invade their channel!"
"Be cautious of anti-aircraft fire! Don’t let them shoot us down with surface-to-air missiles. Call the Persian Cat to send two fighters for escort; I think this is looking risky!"
Before the fighter jets even made full contact, the two countries’ warning aircraft exchanged fire from a great distance.
"It’s coming! I need to hit the restroom first!" Lin Mo’s FC-1 Fighter Jet performed a hook maneuver before turning and running, preparing to execute a wide turn to strike from the side.
He was joking; it was unwise to play the hero at such a time, especially with at least six missiles locking onto him from beyond visual range!
With Lin Mo’s exceptional flying skills and the FC-1’s Mach 1.8 supersonic speed, he could still face challenges when dealing with those air-to-air missiles.
Lin Mo never considered taking down all the Indian fighters by himself, even if, to him, their planes seemed like bundles of cash flying in the sky. However, having a lot of "cash" could also be deadly.
The Indian jets flew in a notably loose formation, clearly wary of a Pakistani ambush, leaving Lin Mo no chance to charge ahead with his six missiles.
He executed a wide turn and serpentine maneuver, getting one missile to explode in a fireball just off his left wing.
Sometimes, the goal of getting close and triggering a missile to detonate intentionally requires exceptional evasion skills; if one isn’t careful, it could lead to disaster.
Given the maneuverability of those missiles, Lin Mo didn’t dare to let them chase him for even a few more seconds.
Time was of the essence; every second was crucial. Those air-to-air radar missiles traveled more than 1,200 meters per second, able to turn him into fragments in the blink of an eye.
Facing the massive array of enemy aircraft and without reinforcements yet, Lin Mo was not willing to adopt low-altitude tactics for shallow fight maneuvers; if the Indians launched another wave of air-to-air missiles combined with ground anti-aircraft fire, it would be like having no exit—no way out.
Boom!
The FC-1 shook again as another missile followed suit, the shockwave rattling its frame.
"Dragon Knight, are you alright?!"
"Ha! I’m feeling great—it’s like a gentle massage with surround sound effects!"
Several dots on the radar representing missiles darted toward the FC-1, and the situation looked grim. Yet Lin Mo stubbornly persisted, keeping his bravado.
Boom!
Two more missiles detonated directly, and although Lin Mo played it cool, he genuinely worried whether the FC-1 could withstand any more close detonations, as he had already spotted several small ruptures on its wings. If not for the durable materials, they would have been torn apart by high-speed airflow.
"Dragon Knight, hold on! We’re coming!"
Long streaks of tails appeared in the sky as four FC-20s rushed in.
"Thank heavens! If you hadn’t come, I’d have been blown to pieces by the Indians!"
Lin Mo wiped his cold sweat; the FC-1’s annoying aerodynamic layout simply couldn’t compete with the FC-20, which was like a big toy. Though Pakistan was both economical and practical, trying to compete with the F-16 resulted in this underperforming, budget version.
Lin Mo had utilized every trick in the book to push the FC-1’s performance to the limit, narrowly escaping a barrage of missiles. The remaining few were lured away by his infrared flares, exploding in mid-air.
Just as he finished his evasive maneuvers, Lin Mo launched two Sparrow medium-range air-to-air missiles, and two white trails shot out from under his wings, heading straight for the Indian-made LCA Tejas fighter jets.
Then the FC-1 seized an opportunity, diving into the formation of Indian Mirage-2000s, aiming for easier targets—bumping into a couple of Su-30MKIs was manageable, but more than that would invite trouble.
The Indians’ fighter planes were not so fortunate; as Lin Mo infiltrated their formation, the missiles fired from the four FC-20s arrived as well. Two locked-on aircraft failed to evade in time and exploded into fireballs, while Lin Mo’s two Sparrows found their marks, ignoring the Indian fighters’ infrared flares, and took down two Tejas.
The Indian-made Tejas fighters, featuring a delta wing design without horizontal stabilizers akin to Mirage-2000s, were in the same weak category as the FC-1; they weren’t even as fast as the FC-1 and dared to brawl with the FC-20s—pure folly.
Quick-reacting Indian pilots realized the missiles closing in and ejected from their pods, small white parachutes fluttering down, with some unfortunate ones landing directly in the control area of the Pakistani ground troops.
In a matter of moments, the FC-1 executed evasive maneuvers followed by counterattacks, seemingly performing a Hollywood blockbuster right in front of the Indian fighter pilots. Although it was based on a curry-like plot, the Indians probably wished it were Bollywood; however, this show was far from entertaining—it was a nightmarish horror film.
The Indians had no idea that the ones slapping them in the face were not their old rivals from Pakistan, but the neighboring Chinese volunteer pilots.
Once Lin Mo settled into the cockpit, donned the pressure suit, strapped on the helmet, and put on the oxygen mask, even with his Light Mirror Technique, he couldn’t identify which country he was from—let alone the Indians.
His wings were laden with air-to-air weapons, and as Lin Mo pounced into the Mirage-2000s, he turned them into sheep in a tiger’s den, aggressively hunting them down. The cannon fire rained down, and Lin Mo fixed on one Mirage-2000, slipping into its attack envelope’s blind spot, where the missiles could not lock on.
While engaging in intense scissor barrel rolls against the Mirage-2000s, he activated the omnidirectional light mirror array, providing him with an extraordinary perspective superior to that of an ordinary pilot.
No matter how the planes twisted and rolled, Lin Mo could see the position of every fighter around him, even timing his shots as the other Indian aircraft hesitated, allowing him to strike fearlessly, taking opportunistic shots. This unexpected attack method left the Indian pilots frazzled.
The FC-1 suddenly executed a large loop maneuver, then performed a heart-stopping high-overload roll. The cannon flared with orange tongues of flame, and a stream of bullets slammed into one Mirage-2000, which began spewing black smoke before bursting into a fireball, while another Mirage-2000 fled in panic.
Everyone knew the pilot of the star-covered FC-1 was undoubtedly a super ace, but the sharp tactics made the Indian fighter pilots feel trapped, inadvertently leading to the realization of actual kill markers on each other.
In the midst of combat, the four FC-20s spread out, engaging in close-quarters battles against Su-30MKIs, MiG-29s, and LCA Tejas fighters, resulting in chaotic firefights amidst flying bullets.
In no time, the multiple squadrons of the Pakistani Air Force rushed in with supersonic reinforcements, joining the fray, and the entire ceasefire line filled with pursuing fighter jets.
The sky turned black from smoke and flames, cannon trajectories, missile trails, and the occasional fireball from exploding aircraft, transforming the once clear sky into a battlefield of carnage.
The all-encompassing vision provided by the Light Mirror Technique allowed Lin Mo to thrive in this clash, effortlessly toying with his pursuers while simultaneously locking onto any enemy jets that inadvertently flew into his attacking envelope.
In the chaotic melee, as he pursued the enemy jets, there was always the risk of another opponent emerging from nowhere to strike, or the cannon he fired targeting the wrong enemy altogether.
In the blink of an eye, several fighter jets either fell or exploded into fireballs. Such expansive combat made all pilots bloodshot, ignoring the dangers of stray bullets as they intertwined with their opponents, unleashing all their tactical maneuvers, utilizing every skill they had, as they oscillated between shooting down enemies and being shot down themselves.
Every second felt like a year, as nobody knew if their fighter jet would be torn to pieces by a sudden burst of cannon fire or if they would have no chance to eject before being engulfed in a fireball.
In the melee, the ejection system felt like a luxury; the scattered debris, unexplained stray bullets, and rushing wind each posed deadly threats.
With an excellent sense of spatial awareness, Lin Mo felt as if he had returned to the battlefield against the Texi Empire, maneuvering his fighter jet in a desperate fight against the enemy aerial knights. This integrated and intuitive feeling of being one with the machine was far more exhilarating than riding a giant dragon and wielding a colossal sword.
