Chapter 244
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Chapter 244: We Have an Airplane
“What’s wrong, Mude? Do you have one? Like magic, did you make it appear? Hahaha, oh well, let’s go call a doctor!”
“Ah, poor Mude. He worries too much for us; he should get some rest; he’s too exhausted.”
“Yes, I’ll go get a doctor. Sigh!”
“I told you not to call a doctor! I remember now! I remember!” Mude Zariyev, the village chief, exclaimed with joy, standing up from the carpet. He crossed his arms and spun in place, loudly praising Allah, and then declared, “I don’t have tanks or cannons, but perhaps we have an airplane!”
“An airplane?”
Mude Zariyev’s words shook the tent like an earthquake. Others, including the mercenary leader Abik, looked astonished, and even Lin Mo couldn’t help but show interest.
An airplane wasn’t something you could just find on the side of the road; it wasn’t that simple. Beyond maintenance, even training a pilot had a very high cost.
If there was air superiority, those disorganized masses would definitely be suppressed and might even be driven back. The presence of an airplane represented a difference as vast as the sky and the earth.
“Yes, we have an airplane! I’m not talking nonsense; it’s true, absolutely certain!” Mude Zariyev’s face lit up with joy as he nodded vigorously.
“How do you have an airplane, and where is it?”
Others looked shocked; even Lin Mo was curious.
“It’s to the west, not far from here, in a cave. Only the previous village chief from Mica Village knew about it. It’s a P-51 Mustang, an old plane from World War II. I don’t know who left it here, but I remember there was a skeleton next to the plane; it must have come with it. The plane is in good condition, not damaged at all.”
Mude Zariyev, forgetting his image as an elder, announced this news to everyone.
The young men with guns in the tent gazed in disbelief at the respected Mude Zariyev, who was dancing and babbling in excitement.
“But we don’t have any fuel! How can we use the airplane?”
“What about a pilot? This isn’t a car!”
Others immediately raised the most critical questions.
“Fuel is not a problem; I’ve looked into it. We can use gasoline, just a higher grade. We have 97-octane fuel, and we can add an additive. Yes, we have several barrels, a lot of it, haha! But…” Mude Zariyev laughed several times, then suddenly fell silent, sitting down with a frown, profoundly nodding, “We don’t have a pilot.”
“Mude Zariyev, maybe we could try to operate it and gain some flying experience.”
A young Pashtun man with a gun couldn’t help but volunteer.
“Shut up! Pashtun, this is not a joke. If it crashes, this precious plane will be ruined, and we don’t even have anyone to repair it.”
The young man’s boldness drew scoldings from the village chiefs.
“I can give it a try. I have a flying license.”
Suddenly, someone else spoke up in the tent.
What? Just as the village chiefs were about to scold the irresponsible Pashtun youth again, they were astonished to find the speaker was the “knight” sitting quietly in the corner of the tent.
“What did you just say?” an elder village chief turned his attention to Lin Mo.
“I said I can fly that airplane. I have a flying license; I’m a professional.” Lin Mo blinked and repeated.
He hadn’t revealed everything; he was indeed a real air force pilot, specialized in supersonic jet fighters. The P-51 Mustang wouldn’t even qualify as a training aircraft for him.
“Really?”
A stir went through the tent; they still couldn’t believe their luck at finding such an unexpected opportunity.
“Really!”
Lin Mo confirmed once again.
“Allah bless! I must go to Mecca for pilgrimage!”
“Allah bless!”
The tent erupted in cheers, filling the air with a welcoming sound.
The mercenary leader, Abik, widened his eyes at Lin Mo, seemingly unable to believe it. This “knight” was truly capable of anything.
“Good, good! ‘Knight’ Sir, we Pashtun people acknowledge you as our friend. My previous promise still stands, and I hope our friendship lasts forever,” Mude Zariyev, the village chief, no longer viewed Lin Mo merely as a hired protector but as a genuine ally and benefactor. He extended his hand, representing the Pashtun people, fully considering Lin Mo as a steadfast ally.
“Thank you for the friendship of the Pashtun people!” Lin Mo responded without hesitation, shaking his hand firmly.
Mude Zariyev laughed heartily, clearly overjoyed, and nodded vigorously, “Wait a moment! I will take you to see the airplane. It’s not far from here.”
Cheers filled the tent once more.
With an airplane, fuel, and a pilot, they felt utterly blessed by Allah, seeing Lin Mo as a messenger from Allah, their eyes gleaming with unreserved excitement and respect.
After all, being outsiders, they thought that as long as there was a plane, fuel, and a pilot, it could take off. In reality, a lot of maintenance and inspection were required to check for aging or damage, tasks that needed professionals.
However, for Lin Mo, this was not an issue. He didn’t say much; he could handle all of this himself. Besides, with Gold Coin around, it was practically child’s play.
As for the runway, it would only take a little over a thousand people working for half a day to get it ready. Piston-powered propeller fighters were far less picky about runways than jet fighters; even a flat piece of grass would suffice.
“However, there’s one problem: our communication equipment is damaged for some reason. If we can’t fix it, it will severely impact our command,” Abik, the mercenary leader, pointed out a significant issue they were facing.
More than half a month ago, most of their electronic devices had malfunctioned simultaneously, even sparking. They thought they were under attack, causing anxiety for some time. As a result, many electronic devices failed, including some equipment in their vehicles.
Long-range communication was cut off, and they had to rely on shouting to maintain contact.
Thinking back, it was likely that someone nearby had released an electromagnetic bomb. Many had experienced the extensive electromagnetic pulse attacks during the U.S. military operations in Afghanistan, resulting in numerous electronic devices failing or outright breaking down.
“Abik, can’t anyone fix it?” The village chiefs furrowed their brows again after their moment of joy. Everyone knew the importance of communication in warfare; otherwise, there wouldn’t be dedicated electronic warfare programs.
“No, my subordinates can only replace plug-and-play parts and don’t even understand circuits and components,” Abik shook his head. Most of the mercenaries were desperate and valiant poor people, and it was a waste of talent to have an engineer who could handle electronics join their small team.
“Sigh!”
Almost everyone sighed in unison.
“Leave this to me; I can fix it!”
Lin Mo spoke up again. With his and Gold Coin’s knowledge of electronics, repairing the communication equipment shouldn’t be too difficult. After all, he believed in the idea of helping others to the end.
Everyone in the tent looked at Lin Mo with shining eyes, eagerly focused on him.
“…”
He truly seemed like a messenger from Allah!
…
When Mude Zariyev took Lin Mo and a group of strong young men to the foot of a pile of rubble, they moved a few stones aside to reveal a dark, large hole. He pointed inside and said, “The airplane is right in here. The cave isn’t big; it barely fits the plane. Initially, the previous village chief, Adeli, and I only cleared a space for one person to pass. We took a look inside and piled the stones back up. This pile of rubble has never been completely cleared; the pilot’s skeleton is still inside. When we found it, it was already bone.”
Mude Zariyev’s strong young men quickly rushed in, using rebar to break the stones, shouting commands as they started to dig out the pile blocking the cave entrance.
Lin Mo joined in, using his bare hands to move the stones. He couldn’t wait to see what the P-51 looked like; he had only seen pictures on his computer before, but seeing it in person was entirely different.
He had originally planned to use an off-road motorcycle when leaving, but now it seemed he had a much better mode of transportation.
The heavy stones felt almost as light as feathers in Lin Mo’s hands. With Mude Zariyev watching in horror, swallowing nervously, he stepped back and witnessed Lin Mo tossing the large rocks aside as if they were nothing, from several dozen to over a hundred pounds. Lin Mo alone was doing far more work than all the strong young men combined.
What a terrifying guy; thankfully, he’s on our side! Almost everyone shared the same thought.
By noon, the shallow cave had been completely cleared out.
Inside the entrance, about ten meters deep, lay a dusty fighter jet, quietly telling its history.
The P-51 Mustang, the Allies’ best all-purpose fighter during World War II, featured advanced laminar flow wing design, a highly streamlined fuselage, rational internal layout, excellent aerodynamic resistance, and a longer range than the P-40. It could carry out long-range bombing missions alongside the B-17 bomber. Highly favored by Allied pilots, it even shot down the world’s first jet fighter, the ME262, ranking first among the top ten fighters in history, truly the king of propeller fighters.
Comparing to his memory, Lin Mo stood before a complete P-51D, equipped with six .50 caliber Browning heavy machine guns.
