The Tornado Fighter was designed in March 1969, the first prototype flew in December 1973, mass production began in 1976, and it officially entered service in July 1980.
While Hunter was introducing its detailed specifications, Eric maintained a cold expression throughout, seemingly quite unhappy.
"The Tornado Fighter employs an all-metal semi-monocoque structure. Its large-section fuselage provides ample internal space, and above the midsection of the fuselage are high-strength central wing boxes and pivots—"
"Stop!" Eric couldn't help but interrupt him. "We've known each other for so many years, and you're trying to fob us off with this kind of soon-to-be-retired scum?"
Vincent's excitement vanished instantly.
The Tornado Fighter has been around for 21 years and has been in service with the Royal Air Force for 14 years, so it's not exactly cutting-edge technology.
Military equipment has an update cycle. Naval surface ships have a lifespan of about 30 years, army equipment will not exceed 10 years, and the service life of air force fighter jets is at most 20 years.
It was 1994, and the Britain had not yet started to falter; it was perfectly capable of supporting the Royal Air Force's modernization efforts.
Hunter gave an awkward smile. "The new fighter jet is still under development—"
"Development my ass!" Eric said with a look of disdain. "EF-2000, huh? A fourth-generation fighter jet designed by the UK, Germany, Italy and Spain, which made its maiden flight at the end of March this year."
Hunter blushed.
He looked at the soldiers guarding the hangar door and lowered his voice as much as possible. "How did you know? This is top military secret."
Eric squinted, a slight smirk playing on one corner of his mouth. "I'm retired, not dead. You know how capable the SAS is."
The SAS, or Special Air Service, consists of elite Army personnel, and a significant portion of MI6 agents come from this special forces unit.
Eric was the former captain of the SAS's Blue Team, and the Royal Air Force's new fighter jets were hardly top secret.
Vincent watched his elderly father quietly.
Your dad will always be your dad.
He's not only a master at flirting with girls, but also a master at putting on airs.
Look at Hunter, who was choked and couldn't say a word. The most deadly kind of showing off is indeed the subtle kind.
However, Eric had no intention of wasting time. He leaned close to Hunter's ear and whispered a few words in a mysterious tone.
"What? No, no, absolutely not!"
"You're a major now, and we've been friends for so many years."
Hunter looked at the guard again. "You old bastard, are you trying to get me court-martialed?"
Eric put his hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, no one will notice."
How can you guarantee that?
Eric gestured toward Vincent, "My son is incredibly capable. He can come and go as he pleases, not just from this air force base, but from the Buckingham Palace."
Hunter looked incredulous. "If that's the case, why did you ask me to help you get a visitor pass?"
"How was I supposed to know that your authority as a major was so low that you couldn't even go in for a quick look?"
Just a glimpse? That's a top secret of the Royal Air Force, the most heavily guarded spot in the entire base.
007 is just a movie, James Bond is just a fictional character. In reality, who could infiltrate a heavily guarded military base single-handedly?
Not to mention Vincent the student.
"Don't even think about it." Hunter said sternly. "It would be good enough if we could see the Gale. If it were someone else, I'd only show them the Harrier at most."
The Harrier fighter jet is a second-generation fighter that entered service in April 1969.
The Gale is also a third-generation fighter jet, which is much better than the single-purpose second-generation fighter jet.
Seeing that Hunter didn't believe him, Eric had no choice but to give his precious son a wink.
"Ahem..." Vincent cleared his throat and slowly raised his left hand. "Uncle Hunter, please look carefully."
Starting with his index finger, his entire palm began to slowly disappear.
Startled Hunter shoved Eric aside and, as if seeing a ghost, grabbed Vincent's left arm, which had no hand.
"Bloodyhell! How did you do that?"
Vincent glanced at the security cameras inside the hangar, then silently and without a wand used his magic to isolate the surrounding space.
"Hogwarts is actually a magic school."
"What? Magic what?"
"Magic school".
Hunter released his hand in a daze, managing a weak smile. "Kid, I admit your magic is very entertaining, but don't be ridiculous, magic doesn't exist."
Vincent shrugged at Eric, canceling the Disillusionment Charm covering his palm, and then slowly opened his palm again.
A tiny Mars floated in mid-air, writing two words in the air.
Magicexists
Magic exists.
Hunter stiffly turned his neck, staring blankly at Eric. "You old bastard, you came here specifically to make fun of me, didn't you?"
He walked straight toward the hangar door, saying, "I'm very busy, I don't have time to mess around with you guys."
With a loud "bang," he seemed to have bumped into something and suddenly sat down on the ground with a thud.
Vincent reached out and helped him up from a distance. "Uncle Hunter, now you should believe me, right?"
Magic actually exists!
Hunter's worldview was suddenly turned upside down, and his expression inevitably turned to fear.
Eric then slapped him on the back. "What are you doing? My son isn't some monster."
Hunter smiled wryly, "You have to give me some time to process this."
"Okay, you can continue."
After this interruption, Hunter quickly accepted the fact.
His gaze toward Vincent was no longer filled with fear, but rather with curiosity.
"So you're a wizard?"
"Yes."
Why did Prime Minister Churchill repeal the Witchcraft Act in 1951? Did he really have some distant wizard relatives?
"Of course not. Actually, it's because many wizards participated in World War II. After the war, Prime Minister Churchill reached a non-interference agreement with wizards. The Britain government would help wizards hide their magic as much as possible, and wizards would appear to help the Britain government in times of crisis."
"Does our government know about the existence of magic?"
"Yes, but only the current prime minister and his close associates know about it."
"What about the Queen? Does she know?"
"Yes, I know. Buckingham Palace is protected secretly by wizards."
Hunter held the rank of major, which was barely considered high-ranking in the military.
Moreover, he didn't delve too deeply into the secrets of the Wizarding World; Vincent was merely satisfying his curiosity, which, strictly speaking, did not violate the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.
"Uncle Hunter, then can we..."
Are you sure no one will find out?
"Definitely and certainly."
"Come with me."
The three of them walked out of the hangar and got into the jeep, with Hunter driving very carefully the whole way.
Eric, sitting in the back seat, glanced down at his watch.
It's almost 3 p. m., we can't keep going at this slow pace.
"Hey! Young man, even old ladies drive faster than you!"
"Shh—" Hunter slowed down, "We're almost in the restricted area, and the surveillance cameras around here are no joke."
Eric rolled his eyes at him. "Don't worry, if you really end up in a military court, we'll definitely get you out."
This joke is not funny at all.
Hunter has only just come to accept the existence of magic and needs time to fully adapt.