"Beep beep beep..."
The sound of the fire control radar lock flooded the entire cockpit.
Chen Fei, seemingly oblivious, focused solely on the altitude meter, the speed meter, and whether there were any blue lines connected to the aircraft.
Danger lay ahead, the enemy behind, leaving no room for distraction.
Altitude 1800 meters!
Don't think that sea level at 0 meters is the ground.
Wrong!
Completely wrong!
On the contrary, at this altitude, the actual position is underground.
This is a mountainous area, where the highest peaks can reach up to 7000 meters, and the average altitude is generally over 200 meters. One must account for this difference beforehand, otherwise one second you're in mid-air, and the next you could be smashing into a mountain, instantly destroying both man and machine.
If visibility isn't clear, it's best to maintain sufficient altitude to ensure flight safety.
Several fine lines whizzed past the wings, but Chen Fei just gave them a glance, too lazy to care.
A few tracer bullets followed the fine lines with pinpoint accuracy, striking the ground and raising striking dust plumes.
The nearest blue line was less than a foot away from the turboprop aircraft, looking perilously close.
But that's just how it looks – scary. If it doesn't actually hit, it won't cause any damage. It doesn't matter if it's a foot or even a centimeter off; there's no difference.
Sometimes the blue lines representing the predictive trajectories do undergo dynamic changes, but the extent isn't too great, always affording Chen Fei some reaction time.
Actually, by focusing his attention, he could distinctly feel time slowing down. Bullets and missiles might be fast, but nothing is quicker than the human brain, right?
Without warning, a thick blue line shot from the front left, piercing through the wing of aircraft 211.
This time it was a missile!
Again!!!
Chen Fei could now distinguish whether the incoming threats were aerial machine-gun bullets or missiles, based on the thickness and number of blue lines.
He felt like cursing. The heart-stopping moments of dancing with missiles had arrived.
Get wrecked!
The enemy, disregarding honor, employed a pincer tactic: two jet fighters against a single turboprop – the latter should feel honored.
They were determined to take Chen Fei down, but thanks to the "Basic Optical Observer Level 2," which never cooled off, he had seen the MiG-28 circling around, preparing to outflank him.
One at the 10 o'clock position, another at 6 o'clock.
Still in high-speed dive, aircraft 211 faced the threat of a coordinated attack.
"Hold on!"
Irinei Rusios' voice, nicknamed "Devil Pepper," resounded in his ears again.
If it was just luck, then this luck was far too good.
"Cyclops" suggested, "Let's dive down too!"
"No! He has to come out eventually."
Under the cover of night, "Titan" reckoned that even with superior skills, he wouldn't dare to rashly follow into this unfamiliar canyon.
He even secretly hoped in his heart that the "Big Mouth Monster" would accidentally crash and be destroyed—it would save ammo.
"One more minute, we're almost there."
"Devil Pepper" Irinei Rusios glanced at the altimeter, 6700 meters.
The turboprop aircraft couldn't climb as efficiently as a jet fighter; without gaining a potential energy advantage through altitude, trying to ambush two jet fighters with two turboprops was a very precarious bet.
Seeing the rock wall ahead, Chen Fei knew the canyon was coming to an end. He pulled the control stick with all his might and shouted, "I'm doing all I can!"
One must not rely too heavily on onboard electronic maps and satellite positioning; map recognition is one of a pilot's basic qualifications.
Whether it was from laying out WIFI signal relays from Aircrew Base to Teacher Shen Fei's Patan Elementary School, or following Chekhov Big Bear on a raid against Aircrew Base 897, Chen Fei had spent much time poring over the high-resolution terrain maps near Aircrew Base.
He had determined the direction and position of the canyon near Aircrew Base 911 and its overall structure upon first discovering it.
This was his main battlefield for tangling with the two MiG-28 jet fighters.
As Aircraft 211 reached the end of the canyon, it climbed with all its might, using up the last of its dive's potential energy. Two thin blue lines approached from both front and back like a huge pair of scissors crossing each other and coming in for the "bite."
Aviation cannon bullets, with their conspicuous tracer colors, arrived as expected, turning the blue lines into a deadly red trajectory of doom.
Yet the turboprop aircraft seemed to dance in the rain of bullets, performing a flip maneuver, rushing out of the canyon, and then immediately turning back.
The barrage of cannon fire fell empty, striking the steep slope at the end of the canyon into a cloud of dense dust.
"It went back in!"
"Zero Point" squadron's "Cyclops" was so frustrated he wanted to twist his control stick into a crutch.
"There's a 'Big Mouth Monster' approaching, bearing 120, two of them, altitude 3200 meters."
"Titan," the commander of "Zero Point" squadron, immediately noticed the enemy and friendly identification targets that appeared on the radar screen.
Two small markers were closing in at a velocity not at all inferior to that of the jet fighters.
Estimated time to arrive, within 30 seconds.
Beep beep beep beep!
"We've been locked on!"
"Cyclops" exclaimed in alarm,
As he spoke, the markers representing missiles appeared on the radar screen.
One, two, three, four... Four missiles were closing in at high speed.
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