Although the A-39B "Big Mouth Monster" light turboprop attack aircraft's primary missions are reconnaissance, patrol, and ground fire support, it's more than capable of bullying ground targets without air defenses and isn't exactly an air superiority fighter. However, it can still handle occasional air support missions and is certainly capable of fighting. The
"Big Mouth Monster," carrying Chekhov and Chen Fei, surged over 300 meters down the runway; its nose suddenly lifted, landing gear detached from the ground, and the aircraft quickly soared into the sky, successfully completing the takeoff procedure.
"Listen, we're in this together now. Whether we survive or not depends entirely on you. Keep an eye on the instruments and buttons in front of you and get familiar with them."
After takeoff, the unreliable squadron leader finally became serious.
After all, in the air, it's easier to fall if you're too high up, and the higher you fly, the harder you fall.
"Huh?"
Chen Fei had never imagined he'd be a co-pilot.
What to do if caught driving without a license? I need help urgently!
Traffic police officer: Get down here first!
But the plane is in mid-air; he can't get off!
Chen Fei almost wanted to die.
He quickly threw the bottle at his feet and stomped on it. This stuff involves drunk driving!
He could even smell the stench of alcohol permeating the cockpit; this bear hadn't brushed his teeth in centuries!
"Try the communication channel first; the tower will assist you. Review the technical manuals you've read."
Don't be fooled by the seemingly casual way Squadron Leader Chekov Leonidevich Ivanov of the 911th Airborne Base grabbed someone; he wasn't just randomly pulling people along.
When he saw Chen Fei, the rookie was holding a technical manual for the A-39B "Big Mouth Monster" light turboprop attack aircraft. Although it was only Book A, with several other books (B, C, D, E, F, and G) following, Book A was the general outline, covering almost all the modules and components, including basic introductions to the functions of each item on the instrument panel. Even if it wasn't a flight operations manual, it was at least enough to understand how things worked, more than sufficient as a fire-control operator's guide.
Communication channels?
Caught on a pirate ship—no, a pirate plane—Chen Fei could only fiddle with the instrument panel with a long face.
Fortunately, he still had the technical manual (A) for this light attack aircraft firmly in his hand, so he could still flip through it.
He tried flipping the communication switch a few times.
"Roar! ~ A poorly written, NTR-like anime! Roar! Dead eunuch! Roar! Timid offline, looking like ghosts, complaining that Grandpa Long is too hard, all of you should die, die! Roar roar roar..."
The sudden roar startled Chen Fei, who quickly changed the frequency.
"What the hell is that sound? It scared the hell out of me!"
Chen Fei wasn't the only one who heard the sudden roar; Chekhov in the front seat also felt a chill run down their spines.
Just hearing those few sentences felt like a ton of information.
"It wasn't me; I don't know. It was a public communication channel just now."
Chen Fei quickly dialed a few more times, and the voice came through again.
"Buzz... Calling 211, calling 211. This is Tower 911; please respond." "
211 received, this is 'Peanut Butter,' climbing at 330 km/h, expected to enter combat airspace in 5 minutes."
Chekov kept the control stick pulled and the throttle valve opened to the maximum, keeping the "Big Mouth Monster" at a high angle of attack and climbing continuously, without rushing into the fiercely contested battlefield immediately.
For aircraft within the atmosphere, the best booster is altitude.
With sufficient altitude advantage, propeller-driven fighters can even fight jet fighters.
"IFF verification successful, battlefield data link established, activating temporary key, please maintain smooth communication."
The tower staff had retreated to the second backup command room of the underground air defense facility; there was no one on the ground now.
Dragon spikes were falling from the sky every now and then, landing everywhere; even hiding inside an armored vehicle wasn't necessarily safe.
The dragon spikes shared from the golden dragon possess penetrating power comparable to armor-piercing bullets and are particularly effective against metallic materials, exhibiting a strong corrosive effect. Even the thickest armor steel is rendered practically paper-thin, while the defensive capabilities of nonmetallic composite materials remain unaffected.
"Peanut Butter" received. "Delicious" Squadron, stay close. Prepare for a two-plane dive attack. 'Ghost Pepper,' are you still alive? I don't see you."
The bear, suddenly serious, was completely different from its ground-based self.
"'Ghost Pepper' is still here. I see you. 'Peanut Butter' and 'Delicious' Squadrons are all present. Begin assembly."
The calm and collected voice of Irene Rusius, the short-haired deputy squadron leader of the "Delicious" combat squadron, rang out in the communication channel.
Her flight codename, "Ghost Pepper," truly suited the temperament of the South American chili pepper.
Before Chekhov's No. 211 took off, the "Really Delicious" squadron launched a probing attack, then began to utilize its advantages in hit-and-run tactics, striking and retreating without lingering, regardless of whether the attack hit or not.
"Hey! Rookie in the back, give yourself a code name. How about 'Rookie'? It really suits you!"
"Peanut Butter" Chekhov turned his attention to the people behind him.
"No, no, no, I don't want one!" What
"Rookie"? Chen Fei shook his head like a rattle. He was an apprentice in the aircraft maintenance team, a poor tool. What codename did he need?
It was either peanut butter or ghost pepper. Really delicious?
Were they planning to cook him?
Why not stew this big bear first?
That's the true meaning of "really delicious."
Chen Fei couldn't understand these pilots' perverse sense of humor at all.
"Every pilot has to have their own flight code name; it's customary. Like me, my code name is 'Peanut Butter'; my father was also a pilot, his code name was 'Caviar,' and my grandfather flew the La-9, his code name was 'Tomato Sauce.' The Ivanov family is a family of pilots; aviation kerosene flows in our veins, hurrah!"
Well, three generations of hereditary sauce!
When rendezvousing with the other A-39B "Big Mouth Monster" light turboprop attack aircraft of the "True Fragrance" squadron, Chekhov took a moment to explain to Chen Fei.
"I've just started learning to repair aircraft; I'm not a pilot."
Little Chen Fei was almost crying; he had been forced into this role, inexplicably shoved into the cockpit.
He really wanted to slap this unreasonable big bear with this thick, heavy technical manual in his hand.
"So where are you? What do you want?" Chekhov suddenly raised his hands and shouted, "Tell me, who are you?" These were three questions that struck straight to the soul.
At this moment, no one was holding the control stick!
After continuing to rush upwards for a while, the "Big Mouth Monster" began to turn and descend aimlessly.
"Are you crazy?"
Seeing the bear in the front seat actually letting go at this critical moment, Chen Fei was furious. This was not the time to joke.
Fighter jets are not bicycles; without autopilot, letting go is shaking hands with death.
"Tell me, who are you?"
Chekhov persisted, letting the fighter jet he was piloting with Chen Fei begin to freefall.
"Peanut Butter, what are you doing?"
The second backup command room, located in the underground air defense facility, not only heard the two men's conversation but also detected the abnormal maneuvering of "Big Mouth Monster" No. 211 through radar.
"Squadron Leader, stop messing around!"
"Ghost Pepper" Irene Rusius, piloting her aircraft closer, noticed the anomaly in aircraft number 211. This wasn't a proper dive attack maneuver at all.
"Grab the stick! We're going to crash! Crash! Crash!"
Chekhov waved his arms, performing a bear dance in the front seat, his 200-plus-pound weight causing the aircraft to shake even more violently.
"Are you crazy?! Aaaaaah, pull up, pull up, aaaaaah..."
Chen Fei finally couldn't take it anymore. He tucked the technical manual under his arm, grabbed the stick, and pulled it back with all his might.
Which direction would "Big Mouth Monster" fly—to the ground, to the sky, or level off? Who knew!
Finally receiving human intervention, the turboprop aircraft, after a short, angled dive, gradually leveled off, the swaying aircraft stabilized again, and it began to climb once more.
Aircraft with static stability designs are actually not difficult to control. The risk of stalling only arises at speeds below 130 km/h. Even then, at a spinning dive speed, hitting the ground would only take a dozen seconds, providing ample time to recover.
"Hurrah!~~"
Chekhov cheered, saying, "Look! Look! I knew you were a qualified pilot!" Tell me, who are you?"
Who am I? Where am I? What do I want?
The standard three-question combo. This big bear isn't stupid at all; he's just drunk.
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