Chapter 195
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Chapter 195: India-Pakistan Peace Talks
“What a pity!” Meat Sauce sighed. They were just one step away; it was fortunate that this fate didn’t befall him. Staying alive was already a challenge.
“Don’t worry, victory will always be ours,” Lin Mo punched Meat Sauce lightly on the chest. “I didn’t see you being so sentimental when launching missiles.”
Clap, clap, clap! A series of loud applause broke out, catching Lin Mo and Meat Sauce’s attention. They turned to see Captain Feng, who had just returned, clapping his hands and raising his voice to gather everyone’s attention, “Comrades! Welcome the safe return of the Dragon Knight! Tonight, we will celebrate with a feast! Let’s make dumplings together, shall we?”
“Sure!”
“Let’s feast!”
“Time to treat ourselves!”
“I can make dumplings! Join me, if you don’t know how, I’ll teach you.”
“Dumplings, dumplings, I love dumplings, hooray!”
Not just the Chinese, the Old Russians and Pakistani pilots joined in the excitement.
What a group of food lovers! After such a tough battle, it was time to treat their stomachs.
The special kitchen set up for the pilots started getting busy. Fortunately, there were plenty of Chinese in Pakistan, making it easy to gather ingredients and seasonings; they managed to whip up a meal of dumplings.
……
“India proposed peace talks! The war is over, did you know?” Meat Sauce rushed into the hangar, finding Lin Mo.
“Peace talks? No more fighting?!” Lin Mo, who was busy tinkering with an FC-20 alongside a Pakistani mechanic, looked up, his face smeared with oil.
The ace pilot was becoming a spotted cat.
Many people didn’t know that Lin Mo had some mechanical skills. Keeping his fighting machine in top condition was a basic warrior skill, but Lin Mo’s standards were extraordinarily high.
Generally, a pilot’s understanding of the aircraft structure is reasonable in theory. They know the components and their functions, but merely knowing isn’t enough. When it comes to hands-on work, there’s a significant gap.
“Yes, this morning at nine, India issued a diplomatic note to Pakistan, hoping to initiate bilateral negotiations to re-plan the distribution of forces along the ceasefire line.”
Meat Sauce was beaming. No wonder the recent combat missions had decreased; the Indians were scared from getting hit.
The total number of enemy aircraft shot down by the Azrael squad, made up of Chinese volunteer pilots, was an incredibly terrifying number.
“The war is over?” Lin Mo stared in shock for a moment, feeling a bit disheartened.
No more money to be made; he had hoped to shoot down a few more planes. Not only could he continue to hone his combat skills, but he could also earn some extra cash since the Pakistani Air Force never delayed payments. Their reputation was solid.
“What’s with that expression? Isn’t peace good? You can relax, have fun, and chase girls. It’s better than risking your life on the battlefield,” Meat Sauce looked at Lin Mo as if he was a monster.
With a face full of resentment, did he have relatives who had grievances with the Indians?
“Soldiers get paid to fight; how can we stop?” Lin Mo could not help but scratch his chin, smearing more oil across his face.
“Keeping an army for a thousand days means using them at a crucial moment. How can I eat if there are no tasks? I can barely make ends meet with my meager salary. The common people don’t fund you to just chat with others about principles.”
“Don’t worry about it. There will always be fighting and peace agreements, dragging on endlessly. The regular folks in India and Pakistan can’t tell the difference between intentional friction for military exercises and testing each other’s military strength.”
At this strategic level, it’s difficult for frontline combat personnel to analyze the gains and losses on the overall situation. Ordinary civilians are even less aware of the politicians’ callous attitude towards lives; that’s all for the politicians to handle. Soldiers only focus on fighting, not burying.
“What does the command center mean by this?” Lin Mo wiped his hands with a cloth and spoke a few words with the nearby Pakistani mechanics, temporarily leaving the adjustments to them as planned.
“Captain Feng has ordered a pause in missions. The patrol tasks will be handled by the Black Panther and Black Spider squadrons. We need to monitor the progress of the India-Pakistan negotiations, so we shouldn’t make our presence known right now. Our recent missions will be limited, and we will focus on rest.”
Suddenly, Meat Sauce smiled, “I’m running low on my supply of Meat Sauce cans and need to report to the command center to order more. Do you need anything? We can purchase together.”
This foodie cared about nothing but food; Lin Mo shook his head in disbelief.
On the television news, just as Meat Sauce said, the diplomats from both countries began by blaming each other for the recent skirmishes. They listed various reasons and argued for three days, finally producing the official documents for the public and outside world to see.
Once the formalities were over, they started discussing the redivision of territories, sticking to the old ceasefire line.
In reality, Lin Mo had already seen the true ceasefire line at the Persian Cat command center, which had pushed 30 kilometers further into Indian territory compared to the historical ceasefire line. Don’t underestimate these 30 kilometers; it was a proactive move to counteract India’s 50-kilometer encroachment, effectively expanding the control zone by 80 kilometers.
Although most of it was barren and sparsely populated land, every inch of territory counts for a nation. If the government is unwilling to fight for even a centimeter, how will the common people support them?
International disputes often exploit even the smallest gaps. If you concede a tiny bit today, tomorrow they will ask for everything, leaving you with nothing, not even bones. Such things must not be allowed to undermine the bottom line of war.
“Get ready to pack up and go home! The ceasefire has basically been formalized. I plan to visit Syria, does anyone want to join me? I can introduce you to some good jobs using my Russian connections!”
The Russian volunteer Caviar was playing mahjong with Meat Sauce and others, astonishingly good at it despite being an Old Russian.
While watching the news, finding entertainment activities in the Persian Cat command center became the primary task for the pilots.
“Mercenaries?! We are active duty!” Meat Sauce and others exchanged glances and burst into laughter.
After spending some time together, they had guessed Caviar’s identity might be that of an intelligence personnel trading information openly, also working as a mercenary contractor for aircraft manufacturers. Given his dexterity flying the A-5 and FC-1 Fighter Jet, he clearly had a background more than just that of a Russian air force pilot.
It seemed as if a major battle had never occurred; the once fervent frontline became suddenly quiet.
This small-scale war, carefully controlled by both India and Pakistan, could start and stop at will. Peace arrived swiftly without needing any reason.
The status of Chinese military volunteers transformed into a semi-public identity – the Chinese Military Observation Group.
After being here for so long, even if the Pakistani Air Force tried to cover things up, the truth would eventually come to light; the Indians would find out sooner or later.
However, when Lin Mo’s fighter jet made an emergency landing on high ground, he unexpectedly encountered an unidentified pilot landing at the same spot, catching both China and Pakistan off guard.
As for a certain force contacting the Persian Cat command center through some means to verify the status of the Tejas fighter jet pilot, that was unexpected as well.
But the Indians were now on the defensive. Once they discovered this evidence, they had to pull back and help cover for the Pakistanis. This was inherently a shady affair. If it came to light, not only would China be inclined to act against India, but even the Indian public would rise against their government, which would be disastrous for them.
“Guys! Good news: the Peshawar Air Force Command has arranged a short-distance tour for us! We can go explore and buy some local specialties to bring home for friends and family.”
The military girl at the Persian Cat command center appeared on the flat-screen TV in the lounge, forcibly switching from the India-Pakistan negotiation news to something more entertaining. For the talented individuals at the command center, this felt like a simple task.
Clap, clap, clap!
The girl’s announcement was met with a wave of cheers and applause from the pilots. There were no combat missions, no patrols or training, and they were deliberately keeping a low profile, which made the pilots feel stifled.
Being in Pakistan for so long without getting to explore was frustrating. Peshawar was the most culturally rich city in Pakistan; going home empty-handed would feel like a wasted trip.
The Chinese volunteer pilots risked their lives for Pakistan and achieved significant results; a special funded trip was well warranted.
Now, not only did the Chinese value these pilots, but the Pakistani side also regarded them as treasures, given their achievements in battle.
The Pakistani air force commanders even hinted to their pilots to get closer to the Chinese pilots. Learning a few tricks would be immensely beneficial.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s 2:30 PM. I’m Asan from GEO TV. Behind me is a temporary military camp near the Line of Control along the Jhelum River. After a week of friendly discussions, India and Pakistan will officially sign a new ceasefire agreement here today, ending nearly one month of fighting and bringing peace and stability to both nations.”
A suited host appeared on the screen, and across the streets of Pakistan, nearly 90% of TVs were tuned to GEO TV’s live broadcast of the signing ceremony for the ceasefire agreement from Islamabad.
