Chapter 539

Chapter 539: Stabbing the "Flying Wolf’s" Rear

The fire control main display screen in the cockpit of the "Flying Wolf" showed a map of Palmdale, with red and green markings indicating the positions of the enemy and allies below.

Six short-range missiles were selected.

The missile pods on both sides of the aircraft flashed with light multiple times, and white smoke shot out like festive fireworks, producing a long, piercing wail as they raced toward the vehicles on the ground.

Seeing the strange aircraft suddenly appear in the sky, the security guards at the Skunk Works factory were unsure if it was one of their special craft, but upon seeing the white smoke illuminated by the streetlights, the answer became clear.

“Not good! Enemy attack!”

“They’re the enemy!”

“Quick, evade!”

The security guards shouted in panic.

As the vehicles twisted and turned to avoid the missiles, the wailing sound followed a seemingly unpredictable trajectory and struck like lightning.

Suddenly, several massive fireballs erupted on the street, the shockwave expanding hundreds of meters in an instant, shattering all nearby glass and causing the streetlights to spark and lose power.

The ground seemed to be swept by a tornado, with countless debris, dust, and small stones lifted into the air, mixing with the smoke to form black-yellow clouds of explosion.

Several jeeps rolled with flames, while some armed guards screamed as they were thrown from the vehicles or crushed beneath them, becoming a mass of blood and mud.

Not only did they get hit by the sudden missiles, but some were also lifted several meters into the air and came crashing down heavily.

In this first round, the convoy of jeeps that rushed out of the factory was left overturned and in chaos, suffering heavy casualties.

“‘Yellow Sparrow’! I’m coming! Five hundred meters behind you! Get ready!”

With his night vision activated, White Wolf piloted the "Flying Wolf" rotorcraft toward the wide road, switching flight modes again.

The two enormous rotors on top of the "Flying Wolf" lifted up and began to spin with added power. The lift generated by the wide and long wings was no less than that of a conventional multi-blade helicopter.

Unlocking the locking mechanism, the aided rotors regained their primary lift; the unique structure and free center of gravity of the "Flying Wolf" supported the changes and operations of both power modes.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

White Wolf heard a series of sharp sounds against the cockpit windshield, as if something small was violently hitting it.

Switching to infrared mode, he quickly spotted a person shooting at him from below a fruit shop’s sign, the gunfire’s infrared response flashing like a signal light, flickering on and off.

“‘Yellow Sparrow,’ someone is shooting at me. I’m going to land; you cover me.”

White Wolf tightly gripped the control stick, maintaining his landing readiness and not planning to waste valuable ammunition on this small fry; a more dangerous battle awaited him.

“‘White Wolf,’ I see him! A leak in the net! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!”

White Wolf replied confidently; a small-caliber rifle under 9 millimeters wouldn’t penetrate the "Flying Wolf’s" armor at fifty meters unless it miraculously hit the warhead in the missile pod.

The attacker known as "Human Meat Sparrow" clearly did not expect his attack to be ineffective, nor did he realize that his opponent was completely ignoring him, continuing to surge toward the ground. Panic filled his heart.

Clearly, another force was also eyeing them, utilizing their heist of the "Fenrir" alloy from the Lockheed Martin Skunk Works to intercept the miraculous alloy while they were off guard.

After planning and preparing for so long, they were double-crossed at the first moment of success.

They couldn’t let the attackers escape so easily; even if the Skunk Works personnel caught them, they had to prevent that strangely-shaped aircraft from landing and take the "Fenrir" alloy away.

“Is the enemy’s helicopter some kind of Transformer? Its wings can turn into helicopter blades! ‘Ghost Bird,’ come support me! I can’t intercept them. Notify ‘Yamata-no-Orochi’ to set up a blockade outside the city. We must do whatever it takes to stop their escape.”

“Human Meat Sparrow” kept firing. As support personnel, he was not equipped with powerful firearms, only a standard 9mm handgun. His weak firepower couldn’t even leave a white mark on the opponent’s windshield.

“Hold on! ‘Human Meat Sparrow,’ I have an RPG on my vehicle; I will definitely take that thing down!”

On a bustling street, a seafood transport truck suddenly emerged, turning its front at the intersection. The tires screeched against the asphalt as it aimed directly for the "Flying Wolf," which was preparing to land.

“Damn it, you think you can stop me, ‘White Wolf’? No way!” White Wolf gritted his teeth, seeing the truck speeding straight toward him. He showed no intention of climbing with the "Flying Wolf," maintaining his focus on landing.

“Damn! Go to hell!”

The driver of the seafood truck yelled as he slammed down the accelerator, charging toward the increasingly lower helicopter in a desperate attack.

If the mission failed, he would drag his enemy down to hell with him.

“‘White Wolf,’ pull up, pull up! Your altitude is too low!”

“It’s fine!”

White Wolf spat on the dashboard, uninterested in altitude. He focused intently on the road below, his expression unchanged.

As everyone braced for a catastrophic collision,

whoosh!

The top of the seafood transport truck barely brushed against the bottom of the "Flying Wolf" rotorcraft, with less than five centimeters separating them as they narrowly passed by each other.

The tail of the "Flying Wolf" seemed to touch the top of the truck, causing the already unstable aircraft to shudder, as if it could tip over at any moment.

But that didn’t matter now; the landing gear had fully engaged with the ground.

Fueled by the rocket assist, the rotorcraft’s landing distance was not much longer than the takeoff distance, quickly gliding to a stop in under a hundred meters.

“‘Yellow Sparrow,’ get up here!”

White Wolf took a risk and opened the side door of the "Flying Wolf" early. Just as it came to a halt, a figure stumbled in, clutching their chest and crashing into the cabin. Without hesitation, he pushed the engine again, preparing for takeoff.

“Yellow Sparrow,” holding his chest and looking pale from obvious injury, struggled to shift his body further into the cabin and urgently urged White Wolf, “‘White Wolf,’ take off! Hurry!”

The rotors on top of the helicopter readjusted to be level and vertical, descending and automatically locking into place within the frame, while an unusual noise indicated the alloy balance blocks had also adjusted the center of gravity.

“God bless, may Buddha watch over you, may the three pure ones protect you, and may Allah’s blessing be upon you. You’re still alive; that’s great! Can you pull your legs in a bit more? I need to close the cabin door.”

With his sharp tongue, White Wolf didn’t forget to tease his weak companion while awkwardly initiating the takeoff sequence.

“Yellow Sparrow” managed a weak smile, barely able to speak and lifted his legs enough for the door to close. The sound of bullets striking the door echoed; the assailant outside continued firing, but at this point, it was too late to change the outcome.

Suddenly, the "Flying Wolf" jolted, and everyone in the cabin felt a powerful vertical thrust as the jet engine, equipped with infrared suppression, expelled a massive heat stream that distorted the light around it, like a high-performance sports car. The "Flying Wolf" surged forward, displaying such fierce power that even expensive sports cars paled in comparison.

The cost of the "Flying Wolf," a variable wing rotorcraft, was far more than that of the world’s most expensive sports car.

Yes, this time the takeoff wouldn’t be a simple rotor-based ascent but rather a conventional fixed-wing aircraft style, accelerating to gain enough lift to escape the pull of gravity.

Of course, this required a longer distance to run, but fortunately, this road leading into the city was long enough, and the traffic was light at this moment. Both those attacking "Laboratory 41" and those defending it had coincidentally chosen to act during this low-traffic period.

The choice of this takeoff method was not due to White Wolf showing off; the seafood transport truck that had narrowly missed colliding with him had turned around with all its might to charge from behind.

On top of the transport truck, a figure leaned against the front end of a small boat, shouldering an RPG rocket bomb, aiming at the tail of the "Flying Wolf."

The "Flying Wolf" could ignore small-caliber rifle bullets, but a hit from an RPG could be disastrous.

“RPG! Damn you! Accelerate now!”

White Wolf did not want a rocket bomb pricking him where it hurt; he focused on the speedometer, managing the engine output within the aircraft’s balanced limits, reaching 80, 90, 100, and 120 miles per hour…

The critical takeoff speed for the "Flying Wolf" was 140 miles per hour, and if it had one less person aboard, that would reduce the requirement by five miles.

The auxiliary booster rocket shot out a long flame tail, and this was the emergency power for the "Flying Wolf;" however, in just a short time, White Wolf had consumed it all.

In just three hundred meters, the "Flying Wolf" approached the critical takeoff speed, beginning to pitch up.

The RPG rocket bomb was not a missile; it could not be interfered with by electromagnetic or infrared means. Even an armored vehicle would be in serious trouble if hit, let alone an aircraft. The best way to avoid being hit was to maneuver in a zigzag pattern or quickly exit the RPG’s 1,000-meter firing range.

“Come down!”

Unwilling to lose its prey, the "Flying Head Man" hoisted the RPG rocket bomb, preparing to lock onto the target. With a squeeze of the trigger, a faint trail of blue smoke shot out.