Thunder Strikes Back

Chapter 1 New Conflict
The scorching sun at noon scorched the gleaming shell of the fighter jet. Sergeant Mohit climbed on the top of the boarding ladder and stuck his head into the cockpit to check the fighter jet’s instruments. Fortunately, the air cooler pipe was inserted into the plane on duty. It was still chilly in the cockpit.The sergeant climbed into the cockpit, switched on the instrument power supply, and started the routine check before takeoff. After checking each instrument, he put a tick on the board.

"Rudder," the sergeant asked, stepping on the rudder pedal.

"Left, right, good," called a numb voice from the back of the plane.The sergeant puts a tick on the scoreboard.

"Check the missile pylon." The sergeant opened the weapon control panel and said.But after a long time, no one responded.

The staff sergeant stuck his head out and saw a man crouching under the horizontal tail to avoid the sun.

"Hey, check rack number 2. Did you hear that!"

Private Lugani stood up lazily, took out a flashlight from his pocket and shook it in front of the missile seeker under the No. The buzzer also beeped once, and then disappeared.

"Well, it's hanger No. 8 now." The sergeant ticked off and wiped the sweat on his head with his sleeve.Perhaps in other places in the world, it is still snowing this month, but it is not possible here. A small section of asphalt runway outside the concrete aircraft fort has already melted, and the spring in the South Asian subcontinent is so harsh.

The staff sergeant filled out the takeoff form, and there was only one column left for the pilot to sign.He climbed out of the plane and walked to the humming air-conditioned car, and found that the private private was listening to the radio on his radio, another violation of the discipline of the 13th Wing.On the radio, a comedian is doing some silly jokes with a perfect imitation of the accent of the Pakistani side of Punjab.

"Lugani, you fool, how many times have I told you that you can't wear slippers on duty, the captain saw you looking good."

"The captain of the regiment went to Bangalore in the morning." Said the confident second-class soldier.

"It doesn't matter at all, I can write it in the report, you idiot." The sergeant threatened. In fact, the sergeant really has nothing to do with these soldiers who just want to dawdle.

200 meters away from this huge fighter jet, there is an air-conditioned lounge. Two pilots are wearing thick flight suits and are sitting in the duty room waiting for the flight order that may be issued at any time. It is a boring noon .Lieutenant Rahsinagoya was checking today's route on the map in the duty room. Since he came to this squadron, the map of the northwest border has not been changed.

Nirangafar, the arms operator, was reading an Indian Express newspaper with a giant headline on the first page—"Mumbai massacre kills more than 10 in 1000 days." ", on the second page of the newspaper, there is a more sensational headline - "The Ministry of the Interior has identified the Pakistani intelligence agency as the mastermind behind the scenes. "

"They should be taught a lesson," Jafar said to himself.

The lounge phone rang, Goya picked it up, and a commander in the tower told him the runway was clear for takeoff.Goya went to the window and watched a compressed air truck pull up to his Su-30MKI.A group of ground crews were removing several tubes from the plane.Jaafar dropped the newspaper and came over: "I heard that yesterday they dispatched the 5th Squadron to cover the attack planes in the distance. I really hope that we can meet them today so that they can learn from us."

"Don't underestimate the enemy, the No. 5 Squadron is their most powerful squadron." When the lieutenant said these words, what was revealed in his eyes was some kind of eagerness to try.

"But we're also the best pilots in India," Jaafar said, twirling his moustache.

"That's right, we can teach them a little lesson." Goya and Jaafar patted each other's heavy anti-G suits, and then walked into the hot and empty military airport.

When the pilot walked past the air compressor, Staff Sergeant Mohit led his ground crew standing under the plane with a smile on his face. Next to him was a strange soldier dangling in the huge shadow under the air intake. He probably Feel like standing there can block the sun.

Lieutenant Goya got into the cabin, and the power of the instruments in the cockpit was turned on. The sergeant helped him quickly fasten his seat belt and plug in the data cable on the helmet.The lieutenant first turned on the VHF radio, a main communication channel for the squadron on 77.9 MHz.Soon the voice of the podium came over.

"Eagle, I'm Lieutenant Colonel Mosin, the runway is clear for takeoff."

"Eagle received." Goya replied, while quickly scanning the flight instruments, Sergeant Mohit's work is always meticulous and reassuring.

"To supplement the latest information, Gudeba's Pakistani 33rd Regiment has some new mobilizations. It may be heading towards the conflict area of ​​Kasua. The army has just built a bunker there. Beware of them coming to make trouble."

"That is to say, we have something to do." Goya asked calmly.

"Listen, there are some changes in your flight path. After taking off, cover the flank of the Lion Squadron in the direction of Srinagar, and then turn back near the northern border. The early warning aircraft of the 181 Squadron has already taken off. If possible, they will guide you further. Operational. I remind you, our mission is to feint in the north. If there is an air battle over Punjab, let Lion Squadron do it."

"Lions Squadron again, as I expected. What about the backup airfield to the north?"

"Srinagar has a good runway for Su-30, that's it."

Rear Lieutenant De Jafar pressed a few buttons on the side of the multi-function display to formulate a new course and a new alternate course.

"Lieutenant Colonel, why are we covering again?" Lieutenant Goya couldn't help asking, he really wanted to know why.

"Because the captain is not here, he has gone to Bangalore." After Lieutenant Colonel Moxin finished speaking, he hung up the phone.

"There's another reason, hehe," said Lieutenant Jaafar, who sat in the back, with a smile. "Because we are the trump card of the Indian Air Force, there can be no mistakes."

The sergeant stood in front of the plane and signaled the pilot to move the rudder surfaces, which Goya did. Then the sergeant climbed to the side and asked Goya to sign.

"Wish you guys good luck."

"Good luck to you too, by the way, there is one more thing, get that new guy away from the air intake."

The cockpit cover was lowered slowly, and the ladder next to it was also withdrawn.Goya turned on the brake switch of the front wheels, skillfully turned on the oil circuit distribution switch, and then started the engine. Soon the plane rumbled, and the engine tachometer slowly reached the 20.00% position. He turned his head and saw that the ground personnel would finally The compressed air hoses, and power lines have all been removed.

Goya slowly pushed the throttle valve of the Su-30 fighter jet, and he could feel the vibration of the plane increasing. He watched the engine speed slowly rise to 50.00%, he released the brake, and the plane moved slowly.

Private Lugani squatted aside and watched the behemoth full of missiles accelerate forward, and he was stunned.

"By the way, sergeant, why is there a white plane pattern on the lieutenant's plane, and there are no other planes in the squadron?"

Asked by the private, the sergeant felt that this fool had been at the base for 3 days, and finally asked a slightly meaningful question.

"Boy, Lieutenant Goya is an amazing pilot. A few years ago, the lieutenant led the 24th Squadron and participated in the 'Red Flag' exercise in Nevada, USA. He shot down an F15." When the sergeant spoke, his face was full of emotion proud look.

"But that's just a drill, not real, right?"

"Do you need to ask? You fool, drive the cold windmill away."

(End of this chapter)