They did not dare imagine how desperate they would have felt if they had been Sentinel pilots—assuming the Sentinels really had pilots.
No wonder some pilots developed severe psychological problems after being tailed by the enemy, sometimes so severe that they could no longer fly!
"What is this?"
After flying for another twenty-odd seconds, the two aircraft drew closer and closer to sea level.
The technicians present immediately realized that Red Fox-2 was conducting close-range reconnaissance. At such near point-blank range, the battlefield recorder on the helmet-mounted sight and the onboard equipment would capture a wealth of details about the Sentinel—data that could not be obtained through long-range electro-optical reconnaissance!
Finally, at an altitude of 4,000 meters above sea level, the battlefield situation changed!
Suddenly, during the maneuver, the Flying Shark's nose shifted slightly. The stream of 30mm cannon fire swept out a deadly arc toward the air thirty meters off the Sentinel's eleven o'clock.
Clang! Clang!
Sparks burst from the air as the optical projection distorted and vanished. The cannon fire struck the Sentinel itself, instantly blasting it apart like an exquisite glass ornament shattering and scattering across the sky.
After downing the target, the J-15 pulled out of its current attack envelope and circled once above the Sentinel's wreckage, like an eagle looking down upon its defeated foe.
Then, the J-15 climbed and flew toward Great East.
"Shot down! It was shot down!" A technician split into a grin, his eyes lighting up. His tongue unconsciously slid across his teeth, and the wild smile on his face made him look nothing like a technical worker.
He was not the only one. The others wore equally kind smiles. The people of Great East loved peace.
Red Fox-1 sent a message: Mission complete (Mission Cmpl), R-T-B!
Tanker (Cow), proceed to