Fu Haoran found that he encountered another problem, that is, there was no pilot.
Static display does not require a pilot, but the flight demonstration of the air show is the highlight. To put it bluntly, this is the seller's show.
Fu Haoran knows very well that he is not a giant like Lockheed Martin. He has no military endorsement, so he must prove himself by performing.
Not to mention that once a subsequent foreign trade order is signed, the customer's first demand is pilot training.
From the time a fifth-generation aircraft is delivered to becoming combat effective, it will take at least two or three years, provided there is a mature team of instructors to teach it step by step.
There are no pilots or instructors, and there is no difference between the F-22 fighter jets in the hangar and the furnishings.
"Mr. Fu, it takes at least four to five years to train a qualified pilot who can fly the F-22, and top flight instructors are extremely rare. It is impossible to find one in less than a month." Li Jianguo's tone was full of helplessness.
"If you can't find it at home, go look for it abroad." Fu Haoran leaned back in his chair and said in a calm tone, "Amerikan Air Force, you should know what the situation is now."
Li Jianguo was stunned for a moment, and his face tightened instantly. "Mr. Fu, I have tried this before, and there is no way out."
"Now United States military's own fighter pilot shortage has stabilized at 1,150, and one out of every three to four squadrons cannot fly. The military is very strict with active pilots. If pilots of fifth-generation aircraft want to retire, they must apply two years in advance and go through layers of approvals. They may even impose mandatory extensions of service, revoke their pilot licenses, and huge liquidated damages. We can't touch them at all."
He paused and his tone became more serious. "Even if you manage to retire, you will be killed by Delta Air Lines as soon as you take off your military uniform.
United Airlines These civil aviation giants sign contracts at sky-high prices, with annual salaries ranging from 400,000 to 600,000 U. S. dollars, and lifetime benefits. We simply can't take them away."
"What's more important is that pilots who fly fixed routes in civil aviation cannot do aerobatics on fifth-generation aircraft, let alone be instructors. The technical barriers are huge, and it's useless to poach them."
Fu Haoran leaned on the back of the chair and had a headache.
However, he had already expected what Li Jianguo said.
United States military The bigger the pilot gap is, the more severe the lock on active talent will be, and the crazier the civil aviation will be to snatch people. Trying to poach people from these two pools is tantamount to pulling teeth out of the tiger's mouth. Not only will the cost be ridiculously high, but it will also directly alarm Pentagon. It is completely inconsistent with his style of making a fortune in silence.
"Who said we were going to active duty and civilian aviation to rob people?" Fu Haoran tapped the United States military combat readiness report on the table with his fingertips.
"United States military lacks young active-duty pilots who can go to the battlefield, deploy globally, and are obedient, not aces that they throw away as trash."
He picked up the encrypted communicator and dialed the number Jimmy: "Jimmy, get me a complete list and give it to me within 24 hours to target the three types of people."
"The first category refers to disabled fighter pilots who have been forcibly retired from Amerikan Air Force in the past ten years. The focus is on screening for F-22 models, those with actual combat experience, and instructor resumes. Even those with mutilated limbs, nerve damage, and failure to pass the civil aviation physical examination will not be missed as long as they have excellent flying skills."
"The second category is for pilots who were dismissed in retaliation for reporting sexual harassment, opposing military fraud, or refusing illegal orders. Pilots with fifth-generation aircraft flying experience will be given priority. Those pilots rejected by civil aviation due to negative records will be marked with emphasis."
"The third category is between fifty-five and sixty-five years old, retired instructors from Nellis Weapons School, F-22
The first-generation test pilot of the project was forced to retire by the civil aviation industry due to his age, and he had no place to put his skills to use."
"File all their disability status, reasons for retirement, family status, and income level. The more detailed the better."
"Boss, these people are not wanted by United States military nor the Civil Aviation Administration of China. We picked them up?" Jimmy was a little worried.
"It's not about picking it up, it's about giving these trump cards abandoned by the system a chance to fly into the sky again." Fu Haoran hung up the communication and turned to look at Li Jianguo, who looked stunned.
Fu Haoran is very clear that poaching people is a short-term solution. In the long term, we need to train our own pilots.
And the best personnel are none other than the mortal soldiers of Warhammer World.
The problem is, Warhammer World also doesn't have enough time to train.
Fortunately, there is a solution to this problem.
"It seems necessary to let Kallen use the Servo-Skull and Cogitator arrays to instill brain-computer interface knowledge into reserve pilots, and then accumulate thousands of hours of flight time in the simulator."
"But tactical judgment, on-the-spot response, aerial combat, these muscle memories and battlefield instincts must be polished by actual combat instructors."
"These United States military veterans we poached are their exclusive instructors."
Fu Haoran did not explain to Li Jianguo, but the latter already realized what Fu Haoran was going to do.
There will always be some unpopular pilots, or people who have a hard time after retirement.
More importantly, these people have grievances against the United States military system and have an ultimate desire to fly fighter jets again. Not only are they able to recruit them, but they are also grateful to Fu Haoran. Their loyalty is far beyond that of active pilots recruited with high salaries.
Texas, San Antonio In a bungalow in the suburbs.
Eric Davis was sitting in a wheelchair, looking out the window at the air force base runway, clutching his flight helmet tightly with his fingertips.
He is 39 years old. He is a former Amerikan Air Force F-22 fighter pilot with 2,800 flying hours. He is one of the last batch of F-22 pilots. He participated in the Syria air raid mission and served as an F-22 squadron flight instructor. He is one of the few top aces in United States military who can fly at high altitudes and perform stall maneuvers.
In a training accident three years ago, the F-22 he was driving suffered an engine failure. The seat exploded during ejection, and his left leg was completely shattered below the knee, causing permanent damage to the nerves in his lumbar spine.
The military forced him to retire on the grounds of "permanent loss of flying ability" and only gave him a meager disability allowance.
He tried to apply for a civil aviation pilot, but the FAA's first-level physical examination standards directly rejected him, a veteran with an amputation of his left leg and lumbar spinal nerve damage.
The ace who once dominated the sky is now confined to a wheelchair, watching his former comrades take off without even a chance to touch the steering column.
The mortgage loan, his daughter's college tuition, and the cost of rehabilitation treatment are all weighing on him like mountains. He has already crossed the "killing line" of the Amerikan middle class and may fall into the abyss at any time.
Just then, his personal cell phone rang with an unfamiliar encrypted number.
The voice on the other end of the phone was polite and determined. "Major Davis, I am Jimmy, the recruitment supervisor of DYB Warhammer Arms Industry."
"We understand your glorious resume on the F-22, and we also know your current situation. We would like to invite you to come to us as the chief tactical instructor, responsible for air show flight demonstrations and pilot training."
"The basic salary is 1 million US dollars per year. All income will be received after tax. However, in order to avoid taxes, we will transfer most of the salary to your overseas account."
Davis sneered, his voice full of desperate self-mockery. "You want a cripple with an amputation of his left leg who can't even walk to fly a fifth-generation aircraft? Do you want to find a gimmick to attract attention, or are you using me to have fun?"
"Major, not only will we give you a high salary, but we will also allow you to stand up again and fly into the sky again." Jimmy's tone was not even the slightest bit joking.
"We have cutting-edge bionic mechanical prosthetic technology that can perfectly repair your limb injuries. We can even use neural interfaces to make your control accuracy exceed its peak."
"What we lack is not airplanes, but aces that can fly the F-22."
Davis was stunned for half a minute, and then asked in disbelief, "You--can you really let me fly again?"
"No matter how much I say, nothing is as good as seeing it with your own eyes. The flight tickets have already been booked."
Three days later, Davis arrived at the DYB factory.
When he saw brand-new F-22 fighter jets parked in the hangar, he couldn't believe his eyes.
As a former ace pilot, he knows better than anyone that the F-22 production line has been shut down long ago, but now, a brand new fighter jet is parked in front of him.
"You must be Major Davis. I am the founder of DYB. Nice to meet you."
Fu Haoran stretched out his hand, and Davis subconsciously held it.
"We will talk about the plane tour later. Now we need to perform an onboarding rehabilitation operation on you."
"If everything goes well, you will be able to board the plane soon." Davis For some reason, he didn't have the slightest doubt.
He thought it would be an extremely complicated operation.
However, it was not the medical staff who came, but Priest Kallen and several Machine Cult technicians.
They installed a set of silver-gray exoskeleton devices on Davis's legs, and the knee joints glowed with a dark golden metallic sheen.
"What is this?" Davis couldn't help but ask.
"Servo bionic prosthesis, directly connected to your lumbar nerve interface." Kallen's optical eyepiece flashed a stream of data, and his tone was as calm as if he was reading a drug instruction manual.
"It can accurately capture your movement intention, and the motor response delay does not exceed 0.01 seconds."
"Flesh and blood are weak, but machines are eternal. What you lost, Omnissiah will find it for you. Try to stand up."
"Are you kidding? How could I stand——" Davis found himself standing up before he could finish speaking.
Although he still couldn't feel his lower body, when he thought about it, his feet would execute it.
He tried to run, he tried to jump, and his legs were all executed perfectly.
Except for the lack of consciousness, everything is perfect.
"How did you ---- do it?!" Davis was so excited that he was a little incoherent.
Kallen's mechanical tentacles gently tapped the prosthetic joint. "This system can also help you withstand high overloads. Even if the lumbar spine is permanently damaged, it can still withstand over-stall maneuvers with nine G overloads."
"The control accuracy you had at your peak will only be higher now."
Davis looked at his new legs, was silent for a long time, and then whispered, "Thank God."
"Mr. Davis, what you need to thank is not God." Kallen's optical eyepiece flashed, "We only agree with one truth, flesh and blood are weak and weak, and machinery is eternal."
"What you get means what you have to pay.
Kallen handed him a contract. "We will give you the opportunity to fly in the sky again. You only need to pay one thing, your flying skills and tactical experience."
"Teach our pilots well and fly air show demonstrations well."
Davis looked at the numbers on the contract, which included an annual salary of one million US dollars, an overseas tax-free account, lifetime maintenance of bionic prosthetics, and full medical coverage for his family—without any hesitation, he signed his name.
At this moment, he no longer had any confusion about the future, only the passion and determination to hold the steering wheel again.
The next day, Davis got into the F-22 simulator.
When the steering column was held in his hand and the bionic prosthesis accurately stepped on the rudder, he seemed to have returned to the sky of Syria.
That all-powerful ace pilot is back.
Also signing the contract with Davis were a dozen pilots who were abandoned by both United States military and civil aviation.
There is Kathleen Walker, a former Nellis Weapons School instructor. After she was forced to retire for reporting sexual harassment, she was rejected by civil aviation because of a "negative record", her mortgage was cut off, and she almost lost her paralyzed mother's nursing home. She has already crossed the middle-class line.
There is Richard Porter, a sixty-two-year-old F-22 first-generation test pilot who was forced to retire from civil aviation due to his age. He had tens of thousands of hours of flying experience and had nowhere to use it. He became the general person in charge of the simulator training and flight system.
There is also Kimberly, a veteran of the Gulf War and a former United States military C-130 pilot. He was forced to retire due to sexual harassment. He encountered a career ceiling for women in civil aviation. He eventually became the dispatch supervisor of the flight team and was responsible for the formulation of the entire air show flight plan.
They were all heartbroken by the system of United States military and rejected by the rules of civil aviation. In the end, at Fu Haoran, they not only received the respect and remuneration they deserved, but also regained the flying career they had worked for their whole lives.
Li Jianguo stood nearby, from the initial shock to watching Davis sit in the simulator and fly out the Cobra maneuver perfectly, he was completely shocked.
He has been involved in aviation all his life and never thought he could do it like this.
United States military was a disabled ace who was thrown away as garbage, but Fu Haoran used a set of black technology to directly bring him back to the top, even stronger than before.
United States military It takes 15 years to train pilots, but your own boss can mass-produce them in three weeks.
Only at this moment did he fully understand that what Fu Haoran wanted to do was never to replicate the F-22, but to create a Aviation Industry Corporation of China and talent training system that could completely crush the West.
In the medical training cabin of the planetary fortress, another group of pilots from Hive City walked out of the operating room.
They have one common feature, that is, they all have a silver neural interface embedded in the back of their necks.
Kallen reported to Fu Haoran, "Sir, this system has a two-layer architecture."
"The outer layer is the nerve control link of the bionic prosthetic limb, which replaces the damaged nerves and drives the mechanical prosthetic limb. Major Davis uses this layer."
"The inner layer is the knowledge infusion array of the brain-computer interface, which can directly engrave flight data into neurons."
"The two share neural interface protocols, but have different functions: one repairs the body, and the other instills skills."
On the holographic screen next to it, all the flight data, tactical actions, emergency response procedures, and even the muscle memory and battlefield instincts of ace pilots such as Davis, Kathleen, and even the muscle memory and battlefield instincts in extreme air combat environments were disassembled into data packets and directly instilled into the depths of the soldiers' cerebral cortex through the neural interface on the back of the neck.
It only takes six hours for pilots to memorize the operation manuals and emergency procedures that traditional pilots need several years to memorize.
After seventy-two hours of neural adaptation training, you can complete basic takeoff and landing, formation flying and ground attack in the simulator.
"However, knowledge instillation can only solve procedural memory, tactical judgment, spatial perception, and on-the-spot response. We must arrange immersive simulated air combat training and then be taught step by step by those ace instructors."
Kallen paused, a hint of fanaticism flashed in one of the mechanical eyes.
"However, the real power of this system is not only to train new pilots in batches, but also to allow veteran pilots with physical disabilities to take to the air again, and even reduce the physical burden of high overload through the brain-computer assistance system."
"The control accuracy of bionic prosthetics has surpassed the original limbs in some indicators."
Fu Haoran nodded.
United States military spent thirty years to destroy his own pilot training system. While shouting about the shortage of more than a thousand people, he threw the top main players as garbage, while being trapped in the fifteen-year training cycle and unable to get out.
And his system directly compresses the cycle to three weeks, and can also simultaneously solve the problem of reusing disabled pilots and quickly filling the pilot gap.
These two are precisely the core pain points that United States military has the most trouble with.
"Enter all instructors' flight data and actual combat tactics into the Servo-Skull database, and continue to update iterations."
"This neural adaptation system needs to be modularized in the future. Even pilots from foreign trade customers can quickly complete modification training through this system."
"What we sell is not just an airplane, but a complete flight system that can quickly form combat effectiveness."
"It takes three weeks to train pilots who can fly, and three months to develop combat effectiveness. This is our dimensionality reduction attack on the global arms trade market."
Having solved the pilot's core problem, Fu Haoran turned off Kallen's surgical report on the holographic screen and picked up another document, Pioneer's berth dispatch form.
In order to show a little bit of effect, Fu Haoran found a ready-made ship from the trophies to ensure that his appearance would be stunning.
There's a small problem, though: he doesn't have enough crew.
Fu Haoran looked at the refitted "cargo ship" at the dock and fell into a tangle.
For the purpose of this air show, he had already prepared a giant ship with the bottom of the box. The name of the ship was Great Fortune, which was taken from the Ming Dynasty Zheng He, the main ship type of the Dafu ship in the Western Ocean. It not only fit the meaning of ocean voyage, but also coincided with the huge scale of this giant ship.
But right now, he lacks a set of professional crew members who can control the ship.
Fu Haoran dialed Jimmy's number again. "Jimmy, get me another list."
"Locate on the aircraft carrier captain and amphibious assault ship commander who were forced to retire from Amerikan Navy in the past ten years,
The more carrier-based aircraft dispatchers and ejection system engineers, the better."
Jimmy on the other end of the phone was stunned. "Boss? What do you want these people for? We only have a modified ro-ro cargo ship and we need an aircraft carrier commander?"
"If you tell me, people won't think you're crazy?"
Fu Haoran stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of the office, looking in the direction of the port, with a smile on his lips that only he could understand, "Crazy or not, when they come and see the ship with your own eyes, you will understand everything."