Return Flight

"Codename? I had one in mind already."

"Oh? What codename?"

"Vast Sky."

Liu Jun gave the codename he had long prepared—Vast Sky. Eagle Strikes the Vast Sky, fish swim the shallow depths beneath the vast sky.

"That's a good codename." Zhang Peng nodded inwardly. Eagle Strikes the Vast Sky was a pilot's romance.

"Master, what's your codename?" Liu Jun asked curiously. Fatty was not a common codename.

"Haha, that was all ages ago." Zhang Peng laughed, then his gaze sank slightly as if recalling something. "Back when I passed flight selection, my family was poor and I'd never eaten much good food. The military food was just too good, and it was available twenty-four hours a day. My weight 'accidentally' went over the limit, and I nearly got kicked out because of it."

"Pfft."

Listening to Zhang Peng, Liu Jun could not help laughing. His master was truly something else. It would have been far too unfair if he had been kicked out for being overweight. Pilots had strict weight requirements, after all. No chief designer wanted a Göring sitting in the cockpit.

"How did you finally lose the weight?"

"Watch what you eat and get moving." Zhang Peng's tone was full of bitterness as he spoke of losing weight.

Amid their idle chatter, refueling was completed. Zhang Peng maneuvered the fighter away from the hose and retracted the refueling probe. The other two J-15Ss moved in, preparing to refuel in sequence. After all that trouble, no one had much fuel to spare.

Aircraft 139, return immediately! Repeat! Return immediately!

"Copy, R-T-B!"

Upon receiving the order, Zhang Peng guided the J-15S onto a heading of 060 at an altitude of 8,000 meters. With the fuel replenishment, they had enough to fly back.

Liu Jun glanced at the 815A below. It was trailing a small amount of black smoke as it approached the wreckage of unidentified flying vehicles floating on the sea. The glass-like fragments seemed less dense than water, and with seawater providing greater buoyancy than freshwater, they gleamed strikingly under the sun.

After flying for some distance, Zhang Peng's radar picked up a friendly signal. IFF Identification confirmed it was the previously damaged Aircraft 140, so he moved closer.

Once he approached Aircraft 140, Zhang Peng observed the wingman's condition from the rear quarter. During the battle, there had been no time to carefully inspect his comrade's damage. Inside the cockpit, the pilot only knew the aircraft had been damaged, not how severe the damage was. He could only rely on his comrades to report it visually.

The left engine had shut down. The left Elevator and Rudder were damaged. Before the automatic fire suppression system activated, the blaze had already scorched the tail section black, making it highly conspicuous against the low-visibility paint.

"How is it? Can you still fly?"

Flying parallel to Aircraft 140, Zhang Peng turned to look at his comrade and asked worriedly. Carrier landings were already like dancing on a needlepoint. Now, with the airframe so badly damaged and only one engine left, the difficulty of landing had risen several levels.

"The right engine is normal. I can make it back."

This was why the navy preferred twin-engine heavy fighters. If one engine shut down, the other could still be used. Heavy fighters also outclassed light aircraft in both payload and range. Had it been a single-engine fighter, Aircraft 140 would have been abandoned long ago and its pilot would have bailed out.

"Understood."

Opening the speed brakes, Aircraft 139 maintained position behind and to the side of Aircraft 140, escorting it while observing the wingman's condition. If anything went wrong, Zhang Peng would immediately notify the other pilot.

After the hard battle, the pilots in both aircraft, Liu Jun excepted, felt somewhat fatigued. They took turns pulling out chocolate to eat and drank some water to moisten their dry throats.

Aircraft 139, missiles expended. 100 rounds of cannon ammunition remaining. Airframe status good.

Status: R-T-B

Inside the Command Headquarters, the commander watched Aircraft 139 returning on the screen, then glanced at Aircraft 140, which was slowly wobbling its way back. The damaged fighter worried him.

"Report to the commander: 815A reports that the ship is salvaging unidentified flying vehicle wreckage."

"Salvage it cleanly. Don't leave a single piece for them!"

These were their spoils of war. No one else was taking them!

After the tireless efforts of the 815A's damage control teams, the fires aboard had been extinguished. The once-beautiful hull was now mottled with bruised patches, while the several domes overhead looked like apples that had been bitten into, each missing a huge chunk. The laser communications system was damaged, and the satellite antenna array had failed.

However, after the three unidentified flying vehicles that had continuously emitted electromagnetic interference were shot down, the 815A's backup systems connected to the data link, and radio communications were restored as well.

The commander did not even need to issue an order. The 815A had watched the battle in the sky the entire time. The moment Aircraft 139 shot down the three unidentified flying vehicles, it turned around and headed toward the wreckage on the sea.

After confirming that things were temporarily safe, Song Xizhu, a specially recruited officer codenamed Professor, stood at the rail with binoculars in hand, observing the wreckage floating on the sea. Her gaze followed the departing J-15S.

"The pilot in that aircraft was?"

"Professor, Aircraft 139's pilot is codenamed Fatty, accompanied by a trainee." As the technician beside her packed away the equipment, he answered. The 815A, with its extensive technical reconnaissance authority, could easily obtain such basic information.

"Oh, very impressive."

During their first encounter, he had shot down three unidentified flying vehicles with cannon fire from a single aircraft, leaving a deep impression on her. As expected, Great East was full of hidden talent.

For the following period, four J-15s constantly escorted the 815A overhead, while the 815A fished up the spoils like a fishing vessel, not overlooking a single fragment. Large pieces were collected with nets, while small ones were picked up by speedboats. The most valuable find was the wreckage of a flying vehicle that remained one-third intact.

The wreckage was piled inside a cleared-out hangar, carefully protected, with security personnel assigned to guard it.

Suddenly, the 815A's surface-search radar detected an unfamiliar yet familiar radar signal slowly approaching, along with eight aerial targets in the sky.

"Captain! Surface target detected. Identification signal: Charles de Gaulle aircraft carrier!"

"Aerial targets: eight. Identified as Sea Rafales!"

The escorting J-15s detected the aerial targets and became alert, flying toward the Sea Rafales.

"Ask them what they're here for." The captain frowned. Under normal circumstances, he would not have been too worried, but this was wartime. One could never be too cautious!

In response to the 815A's inquiry, the Charles de Gaulle gave a very tactful reply: it hoped to withdraw from the current waters together and was willing to fight alongside the 815A.

"They want to fight alongside us? Heh, aren't they allies of the USA?" The 815A's captain laughed in anger. When the 815A had been attacked by unidentified flying vehicles just now, where had they been?

No wonder satellites had not detected the Charles de Gaulle being attacked after the Carl Vinson Carrier Strike Group came under attack. It turned out that when things looked bad, it had fallen back on tradition and slipped away. Yet without escorting vessels, an aircraft carrier was nothing more than a high-value target.

Now that the USA was being battered by unidentified flying vehicles, the Charles de Gaulle could only come cling to Great East's thigh. Otherwise, if this lone carrier, a symbol of the nation, were sunk, the blow to public morale would be enormous.

"This isn't something we can decide. Report it upward."

"Yes, Captain."