Chapter 519

Chapter 519: Classified Flight

“What’s happening?”

Omar, surprised by the sudden change, couldn’t help but show a look of shock, even after experiencing various unexpected situations. What had just occurred? A J-6 was blown up in mid-air without any warning.

The three members of the 5th reconnaissance team hadn’t reacted yet when a deafening roar filled their ears, drowning out the previous thunderous sound of the J-6 engines, causing temporary deafness.

A deep gray jet fighter burst forth from the left side of the mountains behind them, trailing a series of sonic booms. It nearly grazed their heads as it soared into the sky, whipping up a whirlwind along the mountainside.

The twin engines roared like continuous explosions, sending the members of the 5th reconnaissance team into a frenzy, their hearts racing and blood surging as they stumbled around.

“F-22! It’s an F-22, Americans!” Hafar shouted, pointing at the sky.

Larry, nearly trembling in shock, almost launched the Stinger missile on his shoulder. He then yelled, “It’s a Raptor! Run! Americans!”

“It’s a Raptor, how is this possible? No, this can’t be real.”

As an Afghan, Omar was very familiar with the shape of the F-22. The Bagram air force base in Parwan Province, eastern Afghanistan, was home to some F-22s. Although they hadn’t carried out combat missions, their silhouettes were sometimes seen flying over provinces in Afghanistan.

After China deployed the Hongqi-15 long-range air defense missile system, with its 90-kilometer strike radius, it became increasingly difficult to see an F-22 in the four northern provinces of Afghanistan.

But now, Omar had witnessed an F-22 appear out of nowhere and shoot down a J-6.

It was simply hard to believe. Were the Americans just looking for trouble, getting involved in affairs that weren’t theirs?

Even if the Dragoon Corporation had significant influence, they couldn’t possibly convince the stationed U.S. military in Afghanistan to deploy an F-22 for assistance.

The entire 5th reconnaissance team felt as if they were in a dream.

…

In the sky, the situation was entirely different.

“Zork! Zork! Damn it, what’s going on?”

Bell, piloting the J-6, disregarded engine wear and overheating to push the throttle to its limit. The J-6 let out a piercing scream as it suddenly broke the sound barrier.

Just moments ago, a J-6 piloted by Zork, only fifty meters apart, suddenly exploded, catching Bell completely off guard.

But he quickly spotted the trail of a missile and a jet fighter approaching at an incredible speed.

“Oh my God! This can’t be real!”

He was stunned for a second or two but quickly snapped back to reality, turning the aircraft around without hesitation to prepare for a counterattack.

Run away?

That was completely out of the question. Could an antique like the J-6 outmatch an F-22 Raptor? Not a chance.

Even the speed wouldn’t allow them to escape; it was clear they would be toyed with, just like when the J-6 had previously flirted with the Super Dodo.

They spent all day hunting wild geese, only to end up being pecked in the eye—sooner or later, retribution would come.

However, no matter how Bell tried to maneuver, the radar screen remained unresponsive. Even the fire control system didn’t provide any locking indications.

When the missile was launched, the onboard electronic systems didn’t react at all.

The opponent is a stealth fighter, with technology advanced multiple generations beyond the J-6, making it completely invisible to the radar of the J-6.

The PL-1 close-range air-to-air missile, acquired under the pretense that it was scrapped from Albania, holds no qualifications to lock onto it.

To take on the F-22 Raptor, the Chinese would at least need to start with the PL-12 medium-range air-to-air missile.

That old relic under his J-6 could manage against helicopters and bully slow-propeller fighter planes but stood no chance against the mysterious F-22 that appeared out of nowhere.

Compared to Zork, who was silently taken down, Bell didn’t even dare to think about escaping. He could only rely on the J-6’s meager maneuverability to buy himself a chance to eject.

The only weapon at his disposal was the cannon, but it felt like the enemy had eyes everywhere. No matter how hard Bell tried, he couldn’t aim at the opponent for even a second.

Moreover, with a bullet speed of only 780 meters per second from the 30mm cannon, he couldn’t even catch up with the supersonic cruising speed of the incoming foe.

Judgment was inescapable.

Bell recognized the U.S. military insignia on the enemy aircraft with a pilot’s keen vision.

The gap in strength was staggering. Even after a brief chase, the enemy’s wing ignited with a flash of flame as a missile launched, streaking toward Bell’s J-6 from an unexpected angle.

“Damn it! All-aspect combat missile!”

A grim look crossed Bell’s face. The enemy didn’t even need to aim directly at him, yet he found himself within the range of their all-direction missile attack.

He had no way to retaliate; the enemy had effortlessly locked onto him in such a graceful manner.

Without hesitation, Bell reached for the ejection switch of the J-6.

No response!

He pulled again!

Still no response. It felt as if the ejection mechanism had failed, turning into a cold chunk of metal.

The incoming all-aspect air-to-air missile seemed to grin menacingly, mocking his foolishness.

“Jidin! I curse you in the name of God…”

Bell’s last desperate shout was swallowed by a violent explosion.

Once again, a fireball from a J-6 appeared in the sky.

Lin Mo piloted the Red Eagle, circling the exploding fireball before turning south.

Against two pathetic J-6s, he didn’t even feel like making a few tactical maneuvers; he simply took them down with two missiles swiftly and decisively.

“He’s gone!”

Omar and his men peered out from behind a large rock, observing the sky.

The entire battle had lasted less than fifteen seconds, finishing so quickly.

Indeed, they were the best fighters in the world; dealing with the two J-6s was like playing a game.

The two feeble J-6s had no chance of retaliating; they were easily blown up in mid-air.

Omar was astonished by the vast power of Sally, the CEO, realizing that serving the Dragoon Corporation, which could even bring in an F-22 for assistance, was worth it.

Just as many people mistook J-6s for MiG-19s, Lin Mo successfully made everyone who saw the J-18 believe it was an F-22.

After all, the similarity between the J-18 Red Eagle and the F-22 Raptor was extremely high. When he initially brought the young Tabby Cat, Lin Mo had deliberately misled others by claiming his aircraft was an F-22, fooling even the Tabby Cat for quite a while.

“Boss, should we report this?”

Larry said, trembling as he dragged the Stinger launcher.

“Of course!” Omar nodded, quickly dialing on his satellite phone to report the downing of two J-6s by an unidentified fighter.

As expected, the headquarters replied with just a “Got it!” Their acknowledgment revealed that today’s sudden air battle had likely been anticipated by the higher-ups.

Inside the cockpit, the Light Mirror Technique array enveloped the entire canopy.

The Red Eagle had to pretend to be an American fighter, circling southward a distance, with the roar of engines and traces in the high sky failing to hide its presence.

It was easy to come out, but difficult to return.

Having the J-18 Red Eagle fly out of the border line was already extremely risky. If the pilot were not someone of Lin Mo’s caliber, the higher-ups would never approve such a plan.

Lin Mo might be the first pilot in China to fly the top-level fighter out of the country for a combat mission.

After all, the Red Eagle could only achieve radar stealth but not optical invisibility; anyone with a high-powered telescope could easily spot it.

“Oh! Two F-22 Raptors spotted!” Lin Mo’s voice was confined to the cockpit, while the radio and radar equipment were all in electronic silence.

The Light Mirror array showed two F-22s flying in this direction. Clearly, the explosions had alerted the stationed U.S. military in Afghanistan. Whether through satellites or other means, they would detect the high-energy response and shockwaves from the blasts.

The four northern provinces controlled by the Dragoon Corporation were close to the capital in Kabul Province, with the Bagram Air Force Base situated right next to Kabul in Parwan Province.

Estimating the distance, they were still beyond the main radar scanning radius but would soon be within range.

Lin Mo maneuvered the control stick, continuing to descend and turning west.

If he flew another five or six hundred kilometers to the east, he could safely reach Pakistan directly, but that would be too obvious.

The whole world knew about the relationship between Pakistan and the Chinese. It was the only country to have its ties to China enshrined in law and taught in elementary school, practically ingrained in its very culture.

For a secret combat mission, he certainly couldn’t lead trouble toward his allies.

Following the escape steps in the action plan, Lin Mo piloted the Red Eagle to fly at ultra-low altitude, using the terrain for cover as he chose to evade the alerted American fighters from the west.

The mission naturally caught the attention of the Bagram Air Force Base, which Lin Mo anticipated, remaining calm and not intending to engage in a reckless fight with two F-22 Raptors.

The time, place, and circumstances were not right.

Not long after the Red Eagle departed, the two F-22 Raptors arrived at the air battle zone, where they only saw countless metal fragments scattered across the ground and the wreckage of a fighter still emitting smoke. There were no pilot traces from any ejection escapes.

After circling for a while, the two Raptors found nothing and were about to return. However, just as they turned their noses halfway, they seemed to sniff something and continued to maneuver, flying off to the west.