Chapter 542

Chapter 542: The Duel of the Rotorcraft

As White Wolf had expected, the Cheyenne was not as easy to handle as the Apache. This aircraft was designed for superior performance in both air and ground operations. It required the capability to conduct high-speed, low-level flying and hit ground targets with a single shot of a 30mm cannon during such flights.

This meant that even though the Flying Wolf was powerful, it could still struggle against its opponent.

White Wolf used all his skills to maneuver the Flying Wolf, constantly dodging left and right, and waiting for the right moment to strike.

Being on the receiving end of attacks was simply not White Wolf’s style.

However, just a moment ago, he barely managed to launch an air-to-air missile to shoot down a Cheyenne, but he was hit by the fire from the six-barreled 7.62mm Gatling gun at the nose of two encircling Cheyennes. The right side door of his aircraft was blown off, and turbulent winds flooded the cabin, making it hard to speak.

If White Wolf hadn’t reacted quickly, the dense barrage would have turned him and the Yellow Sparrow into mush.

“Cough, cough! Now I understand why you’re called the pilot with the highest equipment loss and accident rate, haha!”

Just moments ago, in the midst of a truly dangerous evasive maneuver, a recovering Yellow Sparrow climbed into the co-pilot’s seat as the aircraft shook, managing to fasten his seatbelt before slumping in his chair, gasping for breath. He felt like he had handed over his life to this bastard.

Fortunately, he had forgotten to anesthetize himself; otherwise, his limbs would be too weak to do anything and he’d have been thrown out.

“Aren’t you dead yet? That’s great! Take two life-saving pills right away; we’ve got more trouble ahead. The medicine box is under your seat; just reach for it. I’m too busy to help you right now.”

White Wolf, frustrated, operated swiftly, releasing infrared decoys. In the night sky, the tiny glowing points scattered beautifully around the aircraft, making the Flying Wolf appear as if it had extended magnificent and dazzling wings.

If it weren’t absolutely necessary, he wouldn’t expose himself in the night; infrared decoys were far too noticeable at night.

Boom!

White Wolf’s emergency response was undoubtedly correct; two massive fireballs exploded less than 100 meters behind the Flying Wolf, crashing into the decoys like they hit an invisible wall.

The Flying Wolf had not shaken off the pursuit of the Cheyenne.

His coordinates and flight path must have been reported to the North American Air Defense Command by Lockheed, and it was only a matter of time before the Flying Wolf was shot down. This was American territory, and White Wolf had never thought he could escape unscathed; otherwise, how could America retain its title as the world’s strongest military power?

If it weren’t for the Flying Wolf being a special stealth aircraft and maintaining ultra-low altitude flying, it would have likely been taken down long ago by U.S. Air Force fighters or surface-to-air missiles. The delay in the appearance of other fighters suggested that the U.S. Air Force had instructed Lockheed Martin to use all force to bring him down.

One against six, and the Cheyenne was even more formidable than the Flying Wolf; White Wolf was sure he hadn’t lost his mind tonight.

Even with ten times his usual courage, he wouldn’t dare fly toward Death Valley; if he crashed, he and the Yellow Sparrow would have no place to hide in the desolate Death Valley.

He wouldn’t even need Americans to hunt him down; a lack of food and transportation could trap him in Death Valley National Park.

Halfway through, he canceled the autopilot and turned toward the metropolitan city of Las Vegas in the desert.

Big secrets hide in plain sight, and only a place like this could serve as a refuge. In 1990, Chinatown settled in Las Vegas, quickly becoming a gathering place for Asian Americans. Finding the two of them would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

As for the Flying Wolf, White Wolf could only apologize once more; he never hoped to evade American pursuit but could only prolong the inevitable, playing out a last act of escape at the nearest point to Las Vegas.

The nickname “White Wolf” as an “assassin of combat equipment” might have come from situations like these.

Seeing the number of decoys on the LCD screen rapidly decrease, White Wolf armed two all-aspect missiles and quickly locked onto the five Cheyennes behind him. With a press of a button, two trails of white smoke shot out and rapidly reversed direction toward the rear.

Behind the Flying Wolf, the firepower network formed by the Gatling gun’s fire was like a true fishing net, closing in on the Flying Wolf.

White Wolf could only fight and retreat. With the fragile frame of the Flying Wolf, it resembled a small victim, unable to endure the powerful Cheyenne’s fire. A few direct hits would lead to mid-air disintegration.

Now, in the sky, there were five attackers and one defender; this mission was truly a terrible challenge.

Boom! Boom!

Two fireballs erupted behind the Flying Wolf; the smaller one was demolished by the dense barrage of the Gatling gun, while the larger one struck its target.

White Wolf shook his head but said nothing; it seemed this performance was hardly worth mentioning.

Hmm, there are only four attackers left, and the situation remains grim.

Even one-on-one, the Flying Wolf struggles to gain an advantage.

Fortunately, the rotorcraft has a high safety rating; as long as the rotor remains intact, it can still make a safe landing even without power. The hardest parts of the Flying Wolf are its two wide rotors, which can only deflect 7.62mm bullets without being penetrated.

Crack! Crack! The aircraft let out a terrible cracking sound, and the Flying Wolf groaned, beginning to sway violently.

An ear-piercing alarm blared inside the cabin.

“The left engine has been hit, and the armor has been blown apart. My God, what a shot! My poor thing! I hope you can last a few more seconds—oh no, a few more minutes. Of course, if you could hold out for a few hours, that would be even better. But I know that’s impossible. May God bless us, may Buddha look after us…”

White Wolf saw the engine section on the LCD screen turn completely dark red, indicating failure. He could feel the aircraft’s speed and altitude dropping significantly, swaying left and right as if it had malaria.

It was already remarkable for White Wolf to maintain control of the Flying Wolf while lacking power balance.

At this moment, the Flying Wolf resembled a frail, helpless girl surrounded by four burly men, and what followed would be a storm of attacks.

“Look, up ahead, Las Vegas!”

Yellow Sparrow suddenly found a burst of strength from somewhere, pointing at the bright light glowing on the distant horizon. That wasn’t the sunrise but the brilliant lights of the city that never sleeps, with beams of light piercing the sky—definitely the best navigator.

With a mischievous glare at Yellow Sparrow, White Wolf’s voice turned cold as he said, “Thank God, we’re finally saved! Yellow Sparrow, see you later!”

“What are you looking at me like that for, White Wolf? What are you planning?”

The look sent chills down Yellow Sparrow’s spine, feeling worse than being shot twice.

“Hehe! Bye-bye, let’s go! Young man!”

White Wolf quickly waved one hand at Yellow Sparrow, then pressed a button.

Before Yellow Sparrow could react, he felt his body drop, his seat plummeting downward.

“Ha! Hahaha…” Amid the roar of engines, White Wolf’s wild laughter faded rapidly from Yellow Sparrow’s ears.

“That madman! I knew he was a heartless bastard!”

Yellow Sparrow, abandoned, trembled in anger as he watched the swaying Flying Wolf drag four Cheyennes through the sky.

The night in the wild outskirts of Las Vegas provided excellent cover for Yellow Sparrow, as the ejection seat with a gliding wing and parachute fell to the ground without any lights shining.

Just four seconds after detaching from the Flying Wolf, he felt a series of impacts, spinning like the world was turning upside down until he finally stopped. Yellow Sparrow realized he had landed with his seat.

He quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and looked up at the sky, where the five Cheyennes’ signal lights shot rockets into the dark night. Streams of fire dragons shot outward, creating a spectacular scene.

As the rockets struck the ground, they exploded into dense fireballs, the brief red flashes illuminating Yellow Sparrow’s face.

He felt the special bag tied to his body still hidden under his clothes, filled with treasures from tonight’s black market deal, and he braced himself to gaze at the brilliantly lit Las Vegas. Unable to hold back, he muttered, “That damned White Wolf, one day the heavens will get you.”

He stumbled towards Las Vegas, hoping to seek shelter before the Americans responded.

“Las Vegas! Here I come! Whoa!”

White Wolf finally spotted the bright headlights of cars flowing continuously on the highway ahead. He hurried forward, posed with his fist and thumb raised, looking ready to hitch a ride.

“Where are you going, buddy?”

Soon, a large truck pulled over slowly to the side. The people of Nevada were all like Lei Feng.

“Brother, I’m going to Las Vegas!”

White Wolf flashed what he thought was his most handsome smile.

“Fool, you’re heading the wrong way! You should be going the other way!”

The overweight driver, sporting a Bearded Squad Leader stubble, scoffed and spat outside, giving White Wolf the finger. That bastard made him lose out on some easy money, and then he hit the gas and sped away.

Living Lei Feng turned into a penny-pinching miser in a blink.

“Ah!”

White Wolf stood there, dumbfounded, watching the taillights of the truck disappear, feeling utterly ashamed and without a place to hide.