Chapter 267
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Chapter 267: Mighty Dragon Overpowering the Local Tyrants
Lin Mo’s eyes widened.
Wow, three J-10B jets in formation—a luxurious lineup capable of handling a moderate-scale battle.
Upon closer inspection, they were actually fighter jets from China, their "August 1" logo clearly visible on the engine’s casing.
They were like reinforcements falling from the sky.
Lin Mo’s heart raced with excitement.
Almost simultaneously, a buzzing noise crackled over the radio channel, followed by a voice breaking through.
“Azure Wolf calling, Azure Wolf calling, please respond!”
Though the intended recipient was not specified, only Lin Mo understood the situation.
The other party was searching for communication frequencies across all bands. Lin Mo’s onboard communication devices were not the same as those on the J-10; the communication platforms and modules had significant differences. He could see that one of the J-10B jets was carrying a torpedo-shaped electronic pod underneath its belly, enhancing its electronic communication capabilities and data processing power.
“Dragon Knight here, Dragon Knight here. Please switch to communication format QK54626-B!” Lin Mo quickly responded.
Military communication channels are completely different from civilian ones.
Lin Mo needed to set up a suitable dedicated channel; this was a special channel preserved in the J-10 system, rarely used and now coming in handy to prevent interception on an unencrypted public channel.
“Bzzz!”
The static on the radio returned briefly, but it quickly cleared up, and the sound quality improved significantly.
Both Lin Mo and Gold Coin had a keen interest in electronics. They had modified the communication system on the P-51 Mustang to avoid being targeted by their own people upon returning to China.
“Real people don’t show their faces; you really are extraordinary! In just a few days, you manage to score another plane? Impressive! Impressive! A P-51? Mustang! A legendary fighter from World War II—brother, I’d say you’ve really hit the jackpot! Can I borrow it sometime?”
The voice of the pilot "Azure Wolf," who had previously collaborated with Lin Mo, burst onto the line, clearly surprised by Lin Mo’s P-51.
This was the real deal, and it was astonishing.
Flying something like this into battle was, for any flying enthusiast, like committing a sin.
“Of course! Of course! You don’t think I’m still climbing hills, do you?”
“Absolutely! This place is completely remote and desolate; I thought you’d perished in there. What are you doing? With a plane, you should just come back already. It looks like you’re taking the opportunity to skive off. Have you found some new side hustle?”
“Just trying to earn my way home! You think they just give planes away? Right now, I’m protecting civilians escaping the chaos, battling those bandits. You see below? A huge valley; the civilians just migrated here, and before they could settle in, bandits arrived to raid. The mountain pass has our people, while outside it’s all enemies—the Taliban, Jamaat al-Tableeg, Holy War Army, and the World Uyghur Congress— you get what I mean.”
“Understood! Wow, there’s no better timing than this! Strike while the iron is hot, brothers, let’s get started! Cluster munition ready! Today we’re all equipped with ground-attack weapons. Dragon Knight, you lead the way; we’ll provide support!”
“Thanks! I’m forming up!”
The P-51 Mustang’s engine roared as it rapidly ascended, performing a nimble Immelmann maneuver. After reaching an altitude of 2000 meters, it leveled off, perfectly aligning with the three J-10Bs to form a slanted line.
Lin Mo’s Mustang naturally became the lead aircraft. He initiated a roll and dove down, with the three J-10Bs closely following.
Here, Lin Mo was somewhat of a local expert; how to attack was entirely up to him. Fortunately, on the ground, they were in a siege battle, and it hadn’t yet reached the point of a mixed fight.
The trio of jets led by Azure Wolf could unleash their power.
The roar of the three jet fighter engines echoed, forcing even the armed militants on the ground to look up in awe.
What they witnessed was the most terrifying scene of their lives.
Leading was that P-51 Mustang propeller fighter, and trailing behind were three jet fighters, all charging directly toward the battlefield.
Almost simultaneously, the cannons of the four planes erupted in a roar, creating a spectacular web of fire. Countless lethal dots danced to form a cascading curtain of bullets, raising clouds of dust that rolled across the battlefield like an unyielding wall, mercilessly crushing everything in its path and leaving behind a haunting image of blood and flesh.
As if the aerial assault wasn’t enough,
the four squadrons at the edge of the battlefield received a notification from Azure Wolf, delivering a ferocious hail of bullets to the armed militants below. Several heavy machine guns spewed flames, their fire nearly covering the entire battlefield, repeatedly striking the densest areas of the enemy.
To rescue the downed pilot in chaotic Afghanistan, the four squadrons brought a sufficient amount of weapons and ammunition to handle a battle of considerable scale, unleashing everything they had. After all, they were a team of kings of soldiers, and their firepower proved even more intense than that of the Pashtuns at the mountain pass.
Using the P-51 Mustang as the lead, the four fighters surged out of the battlefield and turned back—not with a deadly barrage but with aerial bombs. Each bomb exploded in a shower of small black dots that landed on the ground, immediately generating waves of death and filling the entire kill radius with shrapnel, ensuring that there were no survivors.
The Afghans, having experienced the American invasion, remembered this scene vividly: it was the controversial cluster bombs. Moreover, their power was even more terrifying. Who said Chinese products were inferior to American ones? This tore open their old memories, causing the Taliban militants, who had been scared by the Americans, to crumble first.
This hellish carpet bombing played out like an indelible nightmare, re-enacted in reality.
Each J-10B carried two 250-kilogram cluster bombs, each capable of covering the size of half a soccer field. Under the blessings of six cluster bombs, they created a vast no-man’s land on the battlefield.
Many armed militants barely had time to dodge, being torn apart by the flying shrapnel, screaming as they fell into pools of blood.
This brought back terrifying memories, as if they were once again facing an assault from American troops.
Under the relentless bombardment, the initial determination to attack faded completely.
Frightened individuals fled in all directions, desperate to live another second, disregarding whether they might starve or thirst to death lost in the wilderness—just as long as they weren’t killed by the bombs.
As for the surviving leaders, they joined in the retreat.
The militants charging toward the mountain pass couldn’t hold out for even five minutes before they scattered, and only a handful managed to escape. Most perished under the attacks of cluster bombs and rockets, realizing that if they didn’t flee, they would all be lost.
In the distance, the coalition’s camp was completely deserted. Lawrence climbed into a Humvee and waved to his trusted aide, who used to be a helicopter pilot and was now his Humvee driver, saying in a low voice, “Let’s go. We need to leave!”
Turning to look toward the Gem Valley mountain pass, when he first saw the three jet fighters, it no longer mattered whether they were targeting the battlefield. He had already realized the situation was beyond salvation.
The chance to turn things around had vanished, and staying there would only lead to further disaster.
So, quietly slipping away from the battlefield, he loaded his confidant into the Humvee, taking with them the remaining food, water, and fuel from the camp, making a hasty exit.
Also in the vehicle was Mude, his new recruit wearing a navy blue cap. Considering this guy’s loyalty, he decided to bring him along as they left.
“Mr. Lawrence, what is going on?”
“Nothing. We have stirred up a big mess!”
Lawrence could not yet confirm whether there was a secret air force base in that valley. One moment there was a P-51; the next, three J-10s appeared. The clues were too chaotic and didn’t clarify anything.
“What’s going on? How can these civilians have such formidable backing?”
Watching from a distance as the fighter jets bombed the area outside the mountain pass, Mude felt a pang of fear; if it weren’t for Mr. Lawrence’s recognition, he might have been caught in the fray.
It was easy to imagine that the coalition, including his men, could be completely wiped out.
But soon, Mude became excited again; since Lawrence wanted him along in the getaway, what did this mean? It was a dream come true to connect with someone like Lawrence. Now, he was clearly being valued, which was exhilarating.
Among his men, he had a brother-in-law he forgot to call as they left, but that regret quickly faded, overshadowed by the joy of being acknowledged by Mr. Lawrence. In this line of work, one always walks a tightrope, so it was only a matter of time before something happened. His wife would probably cry for a day or two and then move on.
At that moment, Mude was glad just to think of himself.
Lawrence, sitting in the moving vehicle, shook his head and said, “Accidents, all accidents. We underestimated these civilians.”
This mission had been incredibly frustrating; they gained nothing while finding themselves in a lot of trouble. It felt like a colossal loss.
All these unexpected events surpassed common sense, leading him to feel as though even God was working against him. Nothing was going smoothly, so he had no hesitation in abandoning these collaborators. It was better to keep himself safe; that was the only way to survive longer.
