"Air Force One, this is a United States Air Force F15 fighter. Please respond!"
"Air Force One..."
An F15 fighter off the left side of Air Force One maintained the same speed as it flew alongside the presidential plane, repeatedly calling out to it. But just as during the previous hour, there was still no response!
Shuke swallowed, moistening his dry throat. Turning to look at the faint outline of the pilots visible in Air Force One's cockpit, he could not help complaining.
"Damn it, why aren't Air Force One's pilots reacting at all? Did they fall asleep?"
As though they had heard Shuke's complaint, one of the pilots in Air Force One's cockpit suddenly turned his head and looked at Shuke through the windshield from only twenty or thirty meters away.
Shuke's face lit up. He quickly made a hand signal, but just as he thought the other side would respond, the Air Force One pilot turned his head back as if he had seen nothing.
"Fuck!"
Shuke's raised arm froze in place as he cursed furiously.
But at that moment, the radar warning light suddenly began flashing. Shuke hurriedly lowered his head and saw several red dots suddenly appear at the edge of the radar display, speeding toward their position!
His expression immediately changed. The Pentagon had currently sent only their fighter formation to escort Air Force One and check on its condition. These red dots that had suddenly appeared on the radar were very likely hostile targets coming to attack Air Force One!
But before he could sound the alarm, warnings from the other pilots behind him had already come through his headset.
"Unidentified aerial targets detected behind us, approaching at high speed. Three... no, five... God, there are more and more of them—at least dozens! Requesting