Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 708 Fatal 60 Seconds

The co-pilot's body was tilted to one side, with a hole in his skull where his brain tissue could be seen, and a large hole had been pierced in the glass next to him.

"Pull him away and sit on it!"

Captain Antonov saw Song Heping and yelled, "Quick! I need someone to help me land!"

landing?!
Song Heping subconsciously glanced out the window.

total darkness.

Not even the lights of the ships could be seen.

That is the sea surface.

Landing here?
But time did not allow him to think more, so he could only reach out to unbuckle the co-pilot's seat belt and drag him out and throw him on the floor.

When Antonov saw him easily drag the nearly 200-pound co-pilot away, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

Song Heping was used to bloody scenes, so he sat down on the left wing that was soaked with the co-pilot's blood and splattered with brain matter without changing his expression, and quickly fastened his seat belt.

Strong winds poured in through the broken holes in the fuselage's glass. Song Heping felt his scalp numb from the cold, and he quickly covered his head with a sand-proof scarf.

"You will enter Egyptian airspace in three minutes. Call for rescue immediately."

Song Heping took a look at the instrument in front of him and suddenly felt a little panicked.

Because the layout of the helicopter instrument panel is completely different from what I have seen before.

"That knob! Adjust it to 121.5MHz!"

121.5MHz is the internationally recognized aviation emergency frequency and is widely known as the world channel.

When an aircraft has an accident, an emergency call is usually made through this channel to let as many people as possible know that they are in trouble and need rescue.

Fortunately, the instruments on Soviet-style aircraft are largely similar. Some of the instruments on the Mi-17 that Song Heping learned about and the An-148 are very similar.

He quickly found the FM knob and switched the channel to 121.5MHz.

"Call!"

Antonov yelled, "What are you waiting for?! Help!"

Before he could finish his words, the alarm suddenly sounded a shrill beep.

"Sokka!"

Antonov roared, his mouth reeking of alcohol.

"They're trying to kill us! Look out, missiles are coming!"

After saying that, he stretched out his hand and pulled the joystick hard, and the muscles in his arms grew bigger.

The plane began to bank to the right.

Song Heping felt his throat tighten, and the pain of his seatbelt digging into his shoulder suddenly became palpable. He saw a MiG-29 swooping down from the clouds, the R-73 missiles mounted on its belly gleaming with the cold light of death in the sunlight.

"They've locked onto us!" Antonov's voice changed.

Alarms blared in the cockpit, red lights danced wildly on the instrument panel. Antonov pushed the joystick hard, and the heavy fuselage of the transport plane groaned under the heavy load.

Suddenly, the MiG-29 turned around and left without any warning. Before leaving, a streak of fire appeared under the belly of the aircraft, and an R-73 air-to-air missile detached from the rack and flew towards the An-148.

"Sokka!"

Antonov cursed and said to Song Heping, "Keep an eye on the oil pressure gauge for me!"

After saying that, he reached out and pressed several buttons on the dashboard.

The plane quieted down.

"What is this for!?"

Song Heping seemed to know something.

Antonov was not taking evasive action.

Because there is no way to avoid it.

Such a close distance.

Such a fast speed.

This is garbage passenger airliner.

The only advantage is that it is tough.

He turned off the engine!
"Fuck me!"

Song Heping subconsciously reached out and grabbed the seat belt.

"I'm going to die anyway, let's take a gamble!"

There was no fear on Antonov's face, but a kind of excitement and joy.

"They are old MiGs, trust me!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a ball of red light exploded in the darkness near the An-148 aircraft.

Then Song Heping heard a crackling sound coming from the fuselage, like the sound of glass being hit by heavy rain.

The plane shook violently, and the starboard porthole was instantly engulfed in flames. Black smoke produced by the burning hydraulic oil poured in through the vents.

The R-73 air-to-air missile did not tear the An-148 into pieces in one fell swoop!

miracle!

But he had no idea that Antonov was a retired officer of the Russian Air Force who had flown fighter jets and transport planes.

In the end, because the salary was too low, he chose to retire and work in a private airline to earn a high salary.

He knew too well the performance of the R-29 missiles carried by the old MiG-73.

Most early models were proximity bombers with infrared tracking.

Therefore, shutting down the engine can use the cold air and wind in the air to lower the temperature, making the missile guidance lose some of its effectiveness.

Moreover, the performance parameters of the early models of the R-73 missile were quite average, and its hit rate against fixed-wing aircraft was only 60%.

He made the right bet by doing this!

“Take over the joystick!”

Antonov's roar pierced through my ears.

The burn scars on the old Russian pilot's face were red, and his right hand was tightly holding the steering wheel, which was tilted to the left.

At this moment, he is the god of the entire plane!

Everyone must obey unconditionally.

Even Song Heping was impressed by it.

He thought that if he didn't die this time, he would bring Antonov to Venezuela to work for his company.

This guy is definitely a talent!

"Pull the lever!"

Following Antonov's roaring command, Song Heping's gloves were already on the throttle lever on the co-pilot seat, and three of the five engine indicator lights on the dashboard went out.

The sea level tilted at a strange angle outside the windshield, and the ensemble of decompression alarm and fire alarm was maddening.

Song Heping felt his calves go cold, and he looked down to see pale yellow hydraulic oil gushing out from the gap in the control console under his feet.

Antonov pressed his knees against the rudder pedals and slapped his left hand rapidly on the circuit breaker panel overhead. “Shut off the right wing fuel valve! Quick!”

Song Heping's fingers moved among the densely packed red switches, and beads of sweat dripped down his nose onto the electronic flight instrument system.

Suddenly, the entire plane convulsed violently, and there was a crisp sound of metal tearing from the right wing. He watched helplessly as the altimeter needle spun rapidly like a cramp, and the clouds and the sea surface alternated wildly in his vision.

"Retract the flaps! Keep the fuselage balanced and glide!"

Antonov's voice carried the chill of the Siberian permafrost. Song Heping pushed the flap control lever to zero with trembling hands, and the two remaining engines roared in their death throes.

The sea landing procedure flashed through his mind—the fuel dump system had been damaged, meaning the belly of the plane, loaded with medical supplies, would become a burning powder keg the moment it hit the water. A thousand feet high.

Antonov suddenly let go of the steering wheel, grabbed Song Heping's wrist with his calloused hands, and forced his fingers to press on the speed brake switch.

"Remember, boy!" A strange light flashed in the old pilot's cloudy blue eyes. "The sea is the best runway and the worst graveyard."

That excited smile that made him disregard his life appeared on his face again, and he shouted—

"No one can take lives from Russian pilots except us!"

The night was as dark as ink, and the waves of the Mediterranean Sea glowed palely in the moonlight.

Song Heping felt that his fingers had become one with the joystick, and Antonov's heavy breathing echoed in his ears.

On the dashboard, the altimeter needle was falling rapidly.

“Get ready to hit the water!”

Antonov's voice seemed to come from far away.

Song Heping saw the sea surface rapidly expanding outside the windshield, and the flames on the wings drew a scarlet trail in the darkness.

With a loud bang, the fuselage shook violently.

The seawater rushed towards the porthole like a giant beast, and Song Heping's helmet slammed heavily against the dashboard. The salty seawater poured into the cockpit from all directions, and the biting cold instantly soaked through his clothes.

The cold water calmed down Song Heping's head, which had been feverish just now.

Landed successfully!
Looking at the water slowly seeping into the cockpit, Song Heping finally accepted the lucky reality - he was not dead!
“Open the hatch!”

Antonov tore off his seat belt and waded through waist-deep water towards the cabin.

Song Heping followed closely behind, and the cold sea water made him shiver.

There was chaos in the cabin, with the screams of the passengers mixed with the roar of the seawater rushing in.

“Hurry! Get out of here!” Song Heping grabbed a crying little girl and pushed her towards the emergency exit.

In the moonlight, he saw scattered life jackets floating on the sea and several figures struggling in the waves.

Suddenly, a shrill scream pierced the night sky. Song Heping saw strange ripples on the water not far away and a dark shadow swimming quickly underwater.

Blood spread in the sea water, and the struggling figure was suddenly dragged underwater.

“Shark!” someone screamed.

More dark figures appeared around, their triangular dorsal fins cutting through the water.

Song Heping felt his blood was about to freeze. He saw a man being bitten on the thigh by a shark, with blood spurting out.

"Swim faster!" Antonov's voice came from the right.

Song Heping saw him and Jiang Feng swimming hard towards a floating tent package. The smell of blood in the sea water became stronger and stronger, and he could feel something swimming past his legs.

Suddenly, a huge force came from the side.

Song Heping was knocked over, salty seawater filling his mouth and nose. He kicked the water desperately and saw a huge black shadow passing by.

Just then, a strong light illuminated the water.

"Here!" Antonov held up a waterproof flashlight, and the beam shone right into the eye of a tiger shark.

The shark turned around and swam away in fright. Song Heping seized the opportunity and swam desperately towards the floating object.

A huge floating object appeared on the sea.

"Climb up!"

Song Heping saw clearly that it was a supply bag.

Many of the supplies brought by the humanitarian rescue team were brought by themselves.

Tent included.

And this floating object is the tent package.

By the time the three of them climbed up to the tent package, they were exhausted.

Song Heping felt a burning pain in his lungs and sea water dripped down his hair.

In the distance, the screams gradually disappeared, replaced by the sound of sharks biting their prey.

"We have to leave here." Jiang Feng said breathlessly, with a deep wound on his arm bleeding.

Song Heping remembered the military first aid kit that "Ghost" had kept close to him, which he had given himself for use on the road.

Looks like it’s really useful now!

He quickly took out and tore open the first aid kit, using a tourniquet to bandage Jiang Feng's wound.

The bleeding stopped.

Everything seems to have stabilized.

It was dark all around.

Song Heping asked Antonov: "Where is this location?"

"perhaps?"

Antonov thought for a moment and said, "I remember that when we were attacked for the last time, we were approaching Egyptian airspace. We were probably at the seashore near the El Arish Desert. I tried my best to fly here because it was close to the shore."

"Now everything depends on the tide."

Song Heping sighed. There was nothing he could do now.

Sometimes you can only rely on God.

Jiang Feng cursed in Chinese, "Mossad is fucking crazy! They actually sent the Air Force to hunt us down! Aren't they afraid of this getting exposed?!"

Song Heping smiled bitterly and said, "Do you think those Hebrews would care about this? Mossad never leaves room for maneuver."

"Who are you?"

Antonov suddenly interrupted.

"It seems like you weren't here when I came from Europe before."

Song Heping said, "We were already in Zdong before, and this was a last-minute decision to take this flight back."

"Do not."

Antonov looked unhappy.

"I can understand Chinese. I lived in China for a while when I was a child."

"Fuck me!"

Jiang Feng knew that what he had just said had been exposed.

"Do you speak Chinese?"

Antonov immediately said in Chinese: "Of course, even though I haven't spoken it for many years, I can still understand it."

After saying that, he glanced at Song Heping and Jiang Feng's faces and asked, "Why is Mossad hunting you?"

Seeing that he could no longer hide the truth, Song Heping could only tell the story in general terms. He deliberately concealed some secret information, but he did not hide the fact that he was a target of Mossad.

"In fact, it is..."

After explaining the general facts, Song Heping laughed and said, "You are now with someone on the international KB list. Of course, you can deny the connection. Once you get to shore, you can leave immediately and say you don't know who we are."

Antonov thought for a moment and said, "You said you were included on that list by the CIA?"

"Yes." Song Heping nodded: "They are included."

"Fuck the CIA!"

Antonov directly cursed in Chinese.

(End of this chapter)