The An-148 suddenly began to drastically lower its altitude and make big maneuvers to evade—
Probably no other pilot in the world would dare to try this.
After all, this is just a civilian airliner, not ant for military use, and its fra simply cannot handle excessive G-forces.
The passengers in the cabin were suffering greatly.
The won's screams could scare the life out of a donkey.
The n were also shouting various "OH MY GODs".
Their bodies were pinned firmly to their seats, unable to move.
Jiang Feng asked loudly with a grim face, "Are we being shot down?"
"Not yet..."
Song Heping glanced out the window.
"But we've been hit."
The R-73 air-to-air missile model acquired by the Daishe Bird isn't the most advanced; they were all outdated models obtained from eastern countries. With a length of 2.9 ters, wingspan of 0.51 ters, diater of 0.17 ters, launch weight of 105 kilograms, and a warhead weight of 7.3 kilograms, they have a kill rate of around 60% against fixed-wing aircraft.
From the explosion just now, it was a proximity-fuzed R-73. The fragnts from the explosion hit parts of the An-148's body, causing so damage.
The captain's rapid descent in altitude and steep dive was perfectly tid, dodging so of the fatal attacks from the fragnts; otherwise, the 148 passenger plane would have already disintegrated in mid-air.
But not disintegrating imdiately doesn't an it won't disintegrate.
Song Heping felt the plane's body making cracking sounds everywhere, like an old man with brittle bones being dragged to run five kiloters, with his joints making noises.
Judging by this situation, it won't take a minute before the plane will disintegrate, and everyone will truly beco "flying n".
In the cockpit of the Mig-29, several kiloters away.
David, the pilot, gently rubbed his thumb on the missile launch button.
The air-to-air missile he fired earlier exploded behind the passenger plane's engine, and the aluminum fibers scattered from the An-148's body sparkled on the radar screen like silver fireworks.
"The passenger plane is falling into the sea. Should we pursue?"
He asked the command center on the channel.
"Are you sure it's shot down?"
Yager from the command center inquired.
David lightly pulled the control stick, tilting the plane, and took the chance to look down at the sea.
"It's descending rapidly."
"Give it another shot to ensure the target is destroyed."
"No problem."
David responded to the command center, gave a thumbs-up to the nearby wingman, then pointed his index finger at the sea.
aning the target had been hit, but needed a finishing blow.
Understanding, the wingman made an OK gesture, indicating he would take care of it.
He then maneuvered the Mig-29 gracefully, pointing its nose down and diving towards the rapidly descending passenger plane.
"Attention, two fighter jets in the northeast direction, you are approaching our airspace and about to enter it. Please turn back imdiately, repeat, turn back imdiately!"
An Egyptian-accented English warning ca through the general international channel.
This was followed by warnings in Arabic.
David glanced at the radar, noticing four fighter jets approaching from the southwest, closing in quickly.
Checking the GPS positioning again, he found that he and his wingman were indeed nearing Egyptian airspace.
This is a sensitive area.
Although the two countries had signed a reconciliation agreent long ago, border and airspace friction have been frequent over the years.
At this mont, the four Egyptian Air Force patrol planes were also confused.
The detected planes clearly showed the characteristics of Soviet fighter jets; they sent inquiries and warnings but received no response.
Which country's planes are these?
What are they doing here?
"Younis, we're approaching Egyptian airspace. We can't expose our identity. Fire another missile at the target and then leave imdiately."
"Understood."
The wingman had not fully entered the attack position yet. Receiving the order, he imdiately activated radar lock, aid at the An-148 and fired an air-to-air missile before sharply pulling the nose up to increase altitude, quickly returning to David's lead plane nearby.
"The birds need to head back to their nest."
David said on the encrypted channel.
He watched the passenger plane begin to spiral down like an injured pelican.
At this speed, it was certain to crash into the sea.
Moreover, it was nightti, and the chances of surviving in the sea were about as good as winning the lottery.
In the rear lavatory of the An-148.
The plane was still dropping rapidly.
However, it seed to show signs of pulling up, like it was trying to raise its nose and stop the dive, adjusting to level flight.
The pressure on their bodies suddenly lessened considerably, and Song Heping felt he should be able to stand up easily.
An air hostess rushed in, her lipstick-covered lips pale despite her efforts to hide it, she shouted to everyone: "Does anyone have experience flying small planes?!"
Experience flying small planes?
Experience?
Everyone was completely bewildered.
The air hostess shouted: "The co-pilot is dead! We need soone to substitute for the co-pilot temporarily! Or we all die!"
Substitute for the co-pilot?
Everyone looked at each other.
Now, finding a temporary co-pilot?
Song Heping knew very well that ti was extrely precious now.
It was a matter of seconds.
The plane was clearly still plumting, and the altitude was continuously dropping.
At this speed, it would probably crash into the sea within one or two minutes.
"I!"
Song Heping unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbed the seat, and strode to the air hostess, pointing to himself: "I've learned to fly helicopters."
That's right.
Song Heping had indeed learned to fly.
Because his own company had helicopters like the Mi-17, and even two SU-24 high-speed bombers.
In essence, Song Heping is a studious person.
He always wants to learn about things he doesn't know, filled with a spirit of exploration.
During his days in Venezuela, whenever he had nothing to do, Song Heping would find Dominic to teach him how to fly helicopters.
As for those two SU-24s, he hadn't flown them yet, but when people were maintaining them, he would get into the cockpit, touch and tap everywhere, ask questions, and roughly understand control theories—at least to recognize which instrunt does what, rather than being completely blind in the cockpit.
However, when he was learning to fly helicopters, Grey Wolf had joked with him, saying, are you planning to fly yourself in the future?
Song Heping had just laughed and jokingly said that once he stopped being a rcenary, he could find a job at an airline company to make a living, since being a pilot is undoubtedly a high-paying profession.
Unexpectedly, his dream of being a pilot ca true today.
"Follow !"
The air hostess didn't have ti to ask more questions or verify Song Heping's background.
Everyone was about to die, who cares about that.
Having soone step up was already a blessing from God.
Why be picky!
Following the air hostess through the aisle towards the cockpit.
On the way, they saw a flight attendant lying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.
It was likely during the attack earlier that this guy hadn't made it back to his seat to fasten his seatbelt and was knocked out.
As they passed the lavatory, the toilet inside suddenly made a violent sucking sound, and the cabin pressure started to drop rapidly.
Song Heping felt sothing pulling him towards the lavatory.
The cabin was in chaos, a blonde woman was screaming: "The wing! The right engine is on fire!"
"Watch out!"
Song Heping grabbed the air hostess who almost fell into the lavatory, and with his other hand held tightly onto the seatbelt of the flight attendant seat.
After pulling her back, Song Heping advised: "Fasten your seatbelt and sit down."
Saying that, he strode into the cockpit.
As soon as he entered, there was a strong sll of blood, even in the cold wind blowing through the plane he could sll it clearly, the temperature seed to drop by tens of degrees instantly, and it felt chilly everywhere, like walking into a refrigerator.
Seeing the situation inside the cockpit, Song Heping couldn't help but frown.
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