Chapter 1241
Battle of the Plateau, Aerial Guerrilla Tactics, Vijay's Defeat
"Damn it! Where did all these planes come from? Are the Russians' radars out of order?"
"Those Russian instructors are utterly useless except for drinking and womanizing!"
After taking a closer look at the small plane through his binoculars, Mr. Vijay was no longer flustered.
"Look at this piece of junk, it's so crudely made, and it's tiny. Compared to the Russian MiG, it's a million miles away."
"It's probably just a reconnaissance plane. Order the air defense positions to open fire! Today, these bastards won't leave alive!"
"Yes, sir!" The adjutant beside him immediately shook the phone.
"Prepare for anti-aircraft artillery fire."
Before he could finish speaking...
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The continuous explosions shook the earth violently.
The walls of the bunker were buzzing and trembling.
Lord Vijay's hand, which was gripping the binoculars, trembled violently, and he almost dropped them.
Those unremarkable little planes suddenly started firing bombs from their bellies, just like hen laying eggs.
The dark projectile, trailing a thin plume of smoke, crashed straight to the ground!
Bang! The door was kicked open from the outside.
"Report, sir! The forward air defense positions have been attacked! All the anti-aircraft guns have been destroyed!" a servant reported in a panic.
"Damn it! What are the air defense battalions doing? They're not prepared at all!" Lord Vijay roared.
"Ready, ready! But those little planes are too fast! Before the gun barrels were even set up and the shells were even loaded, the position was blown up!"
Lord Vijay's face finally darkened, but he still tried to remain calm.
The airport is not far away. As soon as the Russians receive the news, and the MiG fighters arrive, these crudely made and dilapidated planes will sooner or later turn into fireballs in the sky.
"What's the panic! Our bunker is impregnable. Just wait a moment, and the MiG fighters will be here."
Boom! Another round of bombs was dropped, and the outer positions were engulfed in dust.
The tank's armor was blown apart, the heavy machine gun mounts were overturned, and shattered anti-aircraft gun parts were scattered everywhere.
The once neat and orderly position was blown to pieces in the blink of an eye, a truly horrific sight.
Suddenly, a charred and twisted anti-aircraft gun barrel came whistling through the air.
Clang!
The flying pebbles sliced across Lord Vijay's cheek like knives, instantly drawing blood.
The excruciating pain made him loosen his grip, and the binoculars fell to the ground with a "thud," rolling far away.
"This damn plane... it can carry so many bombs!" He stared at the cannon barrel, his voice revealing panic for the first time.
"Sir, this can't go on. Our air defense positions are destroyed, and the Russian fighter jets haven't arrived yet," the adjutant said anxiously.
"Quickly! Contact the airport! Have them send fighter jets to support us immediately!"
The adjutant immediately picked up the wireless phone, and after a few "hello"s, he got through to the airport.
Lord Vijay snatched the microphone and roared into it, "Where the hell are you? We're under enemy air attack! Why aren't the MiGs here yet?!"
"The radar is completely clear. Where did that plane come from? Vijay, are you drunk and acting crazy?!" The Russian instructor on the other end of the phone spoke with disdain, not taking his words seriously at all.
"I really saw it! Dozens of them! They were bombing us right overhead!"
The Russian instructor finally realized something was wrong.
No matter how outrageous Vijay was, he wouldn't dare to play tricks on them.
He immediately shouted the order: "Fighter jets take off! Quickly!"
"Fighter jets take off!"
"Fighter jets take off!"
The pilot ran quickly toward the MiG fighter jet, which then soared into the sky.
It flew out with a majestic and domineering aura.
It flew a thousand miles in a day.
The Russian instructor sneered, "You dare to send planes to cause trouble? I think you're courting death. Don't think you're so great just because you've developed some civilian machinery. When it comes to building fighter jets, you're far behind!"
Upon hearing this, Lord Vijay's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, instantly settled, and his smug expression returned.
"Just wait, we'll turn these guys into aerial targets in no time!"
No wonder the Russian instructors and Mr. Vijay were so confident.
This batch of fighter jets are all MiG-21s, the most advanced jet fighters in the Russian arsenal, which were only put into service two or three years ago. The other side is no match for them at all.
Meanwhile, in the cockpit of the No. 01 small plane in the air.
Captain Sun glanced at the instrument panel and gave a deep order into the communicator: "MiGs are almost here! Retreat! Form a wedge formation and withdraw. Destination: Base Two!"
All the pilots responded in unison, gripping the control sticks tightly. The small planes swayed slightly on their wings, drawing a nimble arc in the air. The formation was neat and uniform as they sped off into the distance.
On the ground, the dusty servants poked their heads out of the trenches and watched the small plane disappear into the horizon, then burst into cheers.
"Victory! The enemy has fled!"
"Drive them away!"
The adjutant rushed out, raising his arms and shouting, his face filled with ecstatic joy.
Only Lord Vijay stood there, staring blankly at the tanks billowing black smoke and the anti-aircraft guns reduced to scrap metal on the battlefield.
He always felt that this matter was not going to end so simply.
The small plane retreated cleanly and efficiently. By the time the MiG fighter squadron arrived in the airspace, the air was already empty, leaving only a plume of exhaust fumes.
The pilot, preoccupied with the thought of shooting down the enemy plane, was seething with anger and frustration.
They had come all this way, spending tens of thousands of rubles on fuel, hoping to have a fight, but their opponent was nowhere to be found.
To make matters worse, the two MiG fighter jets collided during takeoff because they were in such a hurry.
Fortunately, the fighter jet was destroyed, but the pilot managed to escape in time.
The other two fighter jets were not so lucky; they collided in mid-air, and the pilots didn't even have time to eject.
In one operation, they didn't even catch a glimpse of the enemy, yet they were defeated 0-4.
Upon learning of this achievement, the Russian instructor grumbled as he entered the rest room.
These guys are hopeless, they've wasted such a good MiG fighter jet.
But Lord Vijay was already overjoyed.
Even if we suffer heavy losses, at least we drove away the "enemy planes," which is a great victory!
Lord Vijay even received praise from his superiors. A large shipment of supplies was delivered, with wine, mutton, and canned goods piled up all over the floor.
"Let's celebrate! We'll throw a big celebration banquet tonight!"
As evening fell, the survivors, who had escaped the attack, held a bonfire party behind the lines, drinking and eating heartily, having a great time.
Lord Vijay knew how much of this victory was fabricated, but he did not stop it at this moment.
Having been beaten so many times, if we don't do something uplifting, these guys' spirits will probably collapse.
Furthermore, this battle has already been officially declared by higher authorities: the team led by the war god Vijay has defeated hundreds of enemy fighters.
He couldn't have asked for such credit.
Meanwhile, in a flat valley hundreds of kilometers away from the plateau.
The small aircraft of the Special Flight Squadron are being maintained and loaded in an orderly manner, busy but not chaotic under the cover of night.
The maintenance methods are all written in the "Small Aircraft User Manual". It's very simple and doesn't require a professional mechanic. Pilots can handle it themselves.
Loading ammunition was simply a matter of logistics personnel driving over in trucks, hoisting the bombs onto the belly of the aircraft, and the pilots assisting – it could be completed in just a few minutes.
Once the ammunition was loaded, the refueling truck immediately drove over, inserted the fuel nozzle into the fuel tank, and with a few whooshes, both fuel tanks were filled to the brim.
Captain Sun leaned against the wing, munching on specially made compressed rations, and said with a smile, "This little plane that Comrade Aiguo made is really worry-free."
"That's right! In the past, when flying a fighter jet, maintenance and upkeep would require a dozen or so people running around. Now, it's much easier; just two people can handle it."
"The key is that it's not picky about airports! It can take off and land anywhere—wild grass, dirt runways—it's incredibly flexible!"
"I got a dent in the wing of my plane, and I taped it back on according to the manual. I thought it was ruined, but it flew perfectly fine during the test flight!"
After their first mission, the way the pilots looked at the small plane changed.
Although the small plane's configuration is not as good as that of a fighter jet, its speed is by no means weak.
It's as easy to drive as a car, and with this flight helmet, you won't get dizzy no matter how many maneuvers you perform.
Who wouldn't like it?
"Everyone, hurry up and eat. The MiG fighters have probably retreated by now, so it's time for our second attack."
Captain Sun raised his wrist to check the time, estimated the time, and then gave the order.
The team members quickly finished their dry rations, drank some water, wiped their mouths, and jumped onto the small plane.
The engines roared again, and under the cover of night, one small plane after another took off, whizzing into the night sky.
Meanwhile, the supply trucks and refueling trucks on the ground immediately turned around and disappeared silently into the darkness.
In a small village beside the grassland.
A villager pointed to the valley in the distance and shouted in alarm to the village chief, "Village chief! I just saw a lot of airplanes in the valley! A dark mass!"
"An airplane? Where is it?" The village chief looked at the empty valley and immediately flew into a rage. "You little brat, are you lying through your teeth and playing me for a fool?"
The villagers rubbed their eyes, their faces filled with disbelief: "Really! It was just here a moment ago! How could it disappear in the blink of an eye?"
"Still dare to talk back!" The village chief kicked the villager's buttocks repeatedly, "That'll teach you to talk nonsense!"
Instead of stopping them, the villagers who were watching clapped and cheered, laughing together.
You dared to deceive the village chief; you deserve to be beaten.
The beaten villager covered his face, staring at the dark sky, full of questions: How could so many planes just disappear like that?
At the same time.
The celebration banquet on the plateau was brightly lit and filled with the sounds of drums and music.
In the brightly lit banquet hall, someone shouted, "How did so many planes just arrive like that?"
At first, no one took it seriously.
The small plane just left, how could it possibly come back? Do they really treat airplanes like tractors, requiring no maintenance?
"Don't be ridiculous, those people couldn't possibly get here that fast."
"We finally won this time, aren't you happy?"
"Let's drink, let's drink."
They continued playing music and dancing.
Just now.
Boom boom boom.
Several bombs fell from the sky and landed on the banquet venue.
The barbecue grill was blown to pieces, the ground shook violently, and people cried out and fled in all directions.
Lord Vijay, of course, could not dine with those of lower castes. At this moment, he was in the fortress, drinking wine and enjoying a wonderful song and dance performance.
Upon hearing the explosion, Lord Vijay dropped his wine glass to the ground.
"What happened?"
"Report! Those small planes are here again!" The adjutant rushed in, looking panicked.
"Ah! Here we go again?!" Lord Vijay paused for a moment, then turned around and walked toward a box.
The box was opened, and inside was a shepherd's outfit: a sheepskin coat, sheepskin trousers, a tattered hat, and a whip.
"Sir, what are you doing? Quickly contact the airport and have them send fighter jets to support you!" Seeing that Lord Vijay had transformed into a shepherd, the adjutant asked anxiously.
"Support my ass! We can't hold out, run!" Lord Vijay shoved his adjutant aside, grabbed his felt hat, and was about to rush out.
The adjutant quickly followed, unwilling to give up, saying, "The Russians already know the situation. Just wait a little longer, their fighter jets will be here soon!"
"It's too late, it's already too late!" Lord Vijay pointed into the distance.
The adjutant looked in the direction he was pointing.
Below the plateau, a string of blinding lights stretched out like a giant, glowing python, rapidly approaching.
Those are the headlights of tanks, rolling in in a mighty procession!
The adjutant turned pale instantly upon recalling the steel torrent that Li Yunlong had created.
The entire defensive fortification has now been blown to pieces. When Li Yunlong, that god of war, comes, he will definitely launch a full-scale attack.
"Master! Take me with you! Take me with you!"
Just then, Lord Vijay jumped onto a donkey cart, cracked his whip, and was about to leave.
The adjutant quickly ripped off his uniform and scrambled after him.
The donkey cart started running and disappeared into the night, leaving behind only the fortress ablaze with flames and the sound of explosions filling the air.
The sound lingered in the night sky over the plateau.
(End of this chapter)