Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1178 Air Confrontation
"Beep beep beep—! Warning! Warning! Locked on by fire control radar! Azimuth 035, Altitude 21000, Distance 30 miles! Type identification… High threat! Suspected Russian-made 'Snow Leopard'-E passive phased array radar!"

A sharp and urgent radar warning sound rang out in the cockpit of the "Viper 1-1".

On the screen, a bright red identifier representing the highest level of threat was firmly fixed at coordinates 035, 21000 feet high, and 40 miles away.

The "Snow Leopard-E" model identification characters scrolling alongside it amplify the weight of this threat several times over.

Every pilot who has undergone rigorous air defense suppression training knows what the "Snow Leopard-E" means—it is the standard equipment of the Sukhoi family's top fighter jet, the Su-35S, possessing an ultra-long-range detection capability of over 400 kilometers and the terrifying ability to simultaneously track and attack multiple targets.

Being locked onto by it is almost equivalent to having one foot in the grave.

"SHIT! What the hell?!"

Almost simultaneously, two F-15E fighter pilots uttered bewildered exclamations in the encrypted internal channel.

Despite being separated by sealed helmets and hundreds of meters in the air, the two seemed to feel the hairs on each other's backs standing on end and their hearts skipping a beat.

Locked on by fire control radar!
This is not a normal search radar scan, but an ultimatum before an attack!

This means that the other side has completed the target parameter setting, the missile seeker may have received the target data, and the pilot's finger may be hovering over that red button that could trigger an aerial funeral.

Life and death depend solely on the other person's thought in the next millisecond.

What surprised the F-15E pilots even more was that they had thought the airspace over northeastern Syria should be the exclusive domain of the US military. After the outbreak of the Syrian civil war, this area had long been designated as a no-fly zone by the US military. For the past two years, the Russian Aerospace Forces had been holed up in the airspace along the western coast of Syria. Today, they appeared here without any warning and were able to evade radar detection!
This means that the Russian Aerospace Forces were prepared in advance.

They must have evaded the air surveillance radars in the Kold's controlled area by means of low-altitude flight!
"Damn it!"

The lead pilot cursed angrily, but there was nothing he could do.

When the time comes, saying anything now is superfluous.

We have no choice but to fight.

However, the opponent was a Su-35 air superiority fighter, while my F-15E was more geared towards ground attack missions, and the nature of these missions meant that most of the munitions I carried were also ground attack munitions...

A chill ran up the spines of the two American pilots from under their buttocks, all the way to the back of their heads.

"'Viper' formation, emergency tactical posture! Two-aircraft formation, immediately enter defensive maneuver preparation!"

After a brief moment of shock, Major Mitchell, the experienced "Viper 1-1" pilot, quickly regained his composure.

"1-2, maintain tactical distance, pay attention to energy management, and be ready to evade high-G attacks at any time!"

Almost simultaneously with his initial instructions, his right hand, clad in an anti-G glove, abruptly pushed open several switches on the communications panel, switching the frequency to the Joint Air Operations Center.

"Viper 1-1 urgently calls CAOC! My aircraft is in international airspace north of Latamila and has been targeted by an unidentified but highly suspected Russian military aircraft's fire control radar! Repeat, locked on by fire control radar! Model identification is 'Snow Leopard'-E, preliminary identification by the associated data platform is Su-35! Requesting urgent identification and response instructions! Over!"

His call was clear and accurate, quickly conveying the most crucial information in the shortest possible time.

However, the instant he finished speaking, another cold voice forcibly cut in on the international general aviation emergency channel 121.5 MHz.

The other person spoke English, but with a heavy Slavic accent, which was harsh and intimidating.

"Unidentified US warplanes, attention! This is the Russian Aerospace Forces' 'Sickle' formation. You have illegally intruded into our military-controlled and special operations area. I order you to immediately cease all ground attack preparations and change course 180 degrees to leave this airspace. This is the first and last warning. Any hostile act will be considered a direct provocation against the Russian armed forces, and we reserve the right to use all necessary means to defend ourselves. Repeat, leave immediately!"

The sound reverberated clearly through the radio waves into the cockpits of the two F-15E Strike Eagles.

Meanwhile, at the U.S. Air Force base in Iligo, the Joint Air Operations Center.

In stark contrast to the tense, suffocating atmosphere in the air, this place is filled with a low-frequency, oppressive busyness.

On the massive electronic tactical screen, the "Viper" formation and four suddenly appearing cursors labeled "Unknown - High Threat" are dangerously approaching.

Large swaths of data scrolled across the side split screen, the sounds of keyboard typing, low communication noises, and the hum of running equipment all mingling together.

Brigadier General William Hudson, the base commander, gripped the red encrypted phone tightly in his hand, his face grave, and the fine beads of sweat on his forehead stood out starkly against the cold, air-conditioned environment.

"Yes, Joint Chiefs of Staff Office, the situation has been urgently confirmed! It's four Su-35S fighters from the Russian Aerospace Forces, whose performance parameters are superior to our F-15Es in every aspect! They have already used the 'Snow Leopard-E' fire control radar for targeted illumination and issued a clear and unambiguous warning to drive them away on the international emergency channel!"

Brigadier General Hudson was reporting the situation here to his superiors at an extremely fast pace.

The situation in Syria is very complicated.

This is the first time that air force formations from two opposing camps have met head-on in the air since the start of the civil war.

Brigadier General Hudson clearly remembered that the Russian Aerospace Forces had never been so bold as to issue such a strong and severe warning to their own aircraft within their own no-fly zone.

Have these Russians gone mad?!
FUCK!

Aren't they afraid that an accidental clash could escalate into a major war?
Where did they get the confidence to provoke the incredibly powerful air force of the only superpower on Earth?
Hudson had a strong urge to go to war, but as a professional soldier and a base commander, he knew the standard procedures for handling such situations.

Don't be impulsive.

We still need to follow the proper procedures and ask for instructions step by step. Otherwise, something terrible will happen.

"Yes, I fully understand the seriousness of the situation and the potential strategic-level chain reaction it could trigger! The other side's attitude is extremely tough, leaving no room for negotiation... We request instructions from the highest level! Should the 'Viper' formation be authorized to engage in defensive combat? Repeat, requesting authorization to engage in combat (ROE)!"

His belligerence was already overflowing from his voice and transmitted to the Pentagon via radio waves.

However, instead of an immediate response from deep within the Pentagon, the other end of the phone fell into a brief, suffocating silence.

The silence, against the backdrop of the oppressive CAOC sound, seemed to stretch out infinitely, as long as a century, like a heavy lead weight pressing on the hearts of everyone in the command center, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Every tiny movement of the cursor on the screen, every faint electrical noise in the headphones, tugged at everyone's taut nerves.

They all knew that the Pentagon's decision at this moment was not just about the two pilots in the air and four fighter jets worth hundreds of millions of dollars; it could also affect the levers of national strategic balance, and even...

It could be the fragile and dangerous trigger of a world war.

A few seconds later, new instructions finally came through the encrypted phone.

Brigadier General Hudson listened to his superior's instructions with a grim face, then took a deep breath and relayed the Pentagon's order into the microphone to the Viper squadron flying over Latamira:

"'Viper 1-1,' CAOC final directive: Maintain the highest level of alert, and strictly prohibit the first firing! Repeat, strictly prohibit the first firing! But maintain a deterrent posture and never initiate disengagement! All necessary tactical maneuvers and evasive maneuvers are permitted to ensure your own safety. All units, await the results of urgent political and diplomatic communications! Over!"

"Viper 1-1, understood! Remain vigilant and do not fire!"

Major Mitchell took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart, which was pounding like a drum in his chest.

He clearly sensed the dilemma behind this order—both maintaining the presence and dignity of the U.S. military and avoiding igniting the fuse for a full-scale conflict.

He pushed the control stick, and the heavy F-15E began a slight defensive serpentine maneuver. At the same time, he switched to the tense international emergency channel, trying to maintain the last vestige of communication, his voice calm and firm:
"Russian Aerospace Forces 'Sickle' formation, this is Major Mitchell of the U.S. Air Force 'Viper' formation. You have intruded into our designated no-fly zone. We are conducting a legitimate military mission in international airspace, authorized by the UN and approved by our command, targeting confirmed terrorist targets. Your fire control radar lock-on is an extremely dangerous and provocative act that violates international norms. I demand that you immediately deactivate your fire control radar to avoid a catastrophic tactical miscalculation!"

There was a moment of silence on the channel, broken only by the hissing sound of electricity.

Immediately, that Slavic accent rang out again.

This time, it was tinged with even more obvious impatience and a hint of undisguised mockery:

"U.S. Air Force Major Mitchell."

The voice of the Russian lead pilot sounded like it had just been taken out of the freezer.

"Stop with your clichés about 'terrorists.' Under this sky are our counterterrorism partners, officially invited by the legitimate government of the region. Your so-called 'identified targets' are our personnel. I'll say it one last time—turn around and leave! My finger is on the missile launch button; its patience is far less than mine. You have thirty seconds to consider. Start the timer."

This ultimatum was like a death knell.

"Fuck the Russians! Those damn, barbaric polar bears! They're just looking for an excuse! They just want war!"

Inside the cockpit of "Viper 1-2," the young pilot could no longer contain his surging anger and fear on the encrypted internal channel and began to curse.

"Major, let's take them down! This is within the coverage area of ​​our ground defense network. Even if they can shoot us down, they can't escape! Those damn Russians are just trying to intimidate us!"

Inside the cockpit of the lead aircraft, Major Mitchell's flight suit lining was soaked with sweat, the cold touch constantly reminding him of his dire situation.

His wingman was a young man who genuinely didn't understand the seriousness of the situation.

"Shut up, 1-2! Maintain formation, watch your six o'clock position! They're using psychological tactics, probably trying to find an opportunity to split us up!"

He shouted sharply, trying to calm his wingman, but his own right hand, which was gripping the control stick, was trembling slightly.

Because he didn't know if the Russians could also exercise restraint.

With the two sides currently locked in a stalemate, the ground attack mission is likely to be cancelled.

It seems the Russians were well-prepared, and our intelligence wasn't up to par. Otherwise, bringing in F-35s or F-16s from Bakhta would have been far more effective in deterring ground formations than our own.

Soon, the standoff between the two formations in the sky entered an even more dangerous phase.

Four Su-35S fighters have arrived near the "Viper" formation. The Russians, relying on their superior maneuverability and powerful engine thrust, have begun to conduct a more aggressive tactical maneuvering.

They sometimes use their altitude advantage to dive and probe, and sometimes they form pairs to perform cross-maneuvers, attempting to disrupt the defensive rhythm of the "Viper" formation and find the best angle for radar lock-on and missile attack.

While the F-15E Strike Eagle may be slightly inferior to the latest Su-35S in some aspects, under Mitchell's command, the F-15E Strike Eagle, with the pilot's superb skills and the aircraft's excellent energy characteristics, continuously performed violent maneuvers, sharp turns, climbs, and dives to try to break free from any possible launch solutions the enemy might establish.

The radar warning device's beeping sound is sometimes sharp and piercing, indicating extreme danger of being firmly locked on; at other times it becomes low and intermittent, indicating that it has temporarily broken the lock or that the other party has switched to search mode.

The sound was like a tormenting demonic chant, tugging at every nerve on the verge of collapse within the cockpit.

The thin, cold air was thick with an intense, almost impenetrable aura of ionization and invisible gunpowder, as if a mere spark or a slight miscalculation could ignite this once tranquil sky.

　Asking for a monthly ticket! Asking for a monthly ticket!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)