There are many forms of air combat, and they are not in any way inferior to direct methods of killing. The common and boring medium-range interception, the long-range escort that is tense for a few hours and a few seconds, the close-range dog fight that no one wants to get on but no one wants to watch the excitement, the energy competition of the academy, and the stall of the fauvism. If you want to kill or beg for death, there is no shortage of methods. Casey's eyes were like spider webs, and this was the worst form of air combat - a dogfight. In the stalemate battle in the big airspace, I don't know how to die. Unfortunately, the other party often doesn't know that he has killed someone. I don't know why I live, I have no purpose in killing, and I have no place to die, this is the style of a standard scuffle. The airspace of the hunting area is as noisy as the central business district during rush hour, and the noise of various engines resounds throughout the world. The F-4E's twin J79 engines are loud and thunderous; The F-5's J85 engine was sharp and piercing, like a nervous toddler howling; The F-16's F100 engine sounds even more uncomfortable, hard to describe in words, like a super blower in a cave. It is also mixed with the long roar of the R-11 engine of the MiG-21.

Casey lets the love sink down completely, relaxing. She wasn't trying to hear the sounds with her ears, and she couldn't hear them clearly even through the cockpit canopy wearing a sheepskin-lined helmet. What she has to do is feel, using her intuition to mentally map the tactical situation of the entire airspace.

In fact, the Whooping Ghost system was originally developed to do just that, to assist those junior pilots in their brains to achieve combat perception, which Casey had verified in the simulator. It's just that she'll never touch that system again, and Casey swears by it.

As soon as she relaxes, Casey enters a state of self-forgetfulness, which can be said to suppress her human emotions with calmness, and takes ensuring her own survival as her first priority, which is the lesson she learned in the Sino-Japanese War.

Dogfights are raging in the hunting area, and double helix trails can be seen everywhere biting each other's tails and entering scissor fighting. The battle situation in the airspace is chaotic, some go around in circles, and some turn their backs away. In this way, it seems that this group of mercenaries is not specifically against themselves, and Casey just broke into an unmanaged Colosseum. Since it is free hunting, of course you will become the prey yourself. In the midst of the chaotic engine roar, Casey suddenly heard a very special sound in his head. Right behind him, there seemed to be the sound of some kind of electric motor starting, which was the barrel of the M61 Vulcan cannon. More precisely, it is an associative auditory hallucination. Casey Guò was intuitive, aware that someone was in the best position to shoot and could fire, and the corresponding sound naturally sounded in his ears, like a kind of brain self-dubbing, or automatic compensation mechanism. I have to admit that Casey is more familiar with the Vulcan cannon than the faucet at home. She is proficient in flying seven types of supersonic fighters, each armed with Vulcan cannons. Whether it is from the second-generation F-104 Star Warrior, the third-generation F-16 Fighting Falcon, to the most advanced fourth-generation F-22 Raptor, the fighter is constantly changing, and the Vulcan Cannon is standing. As soon as this cannon starts to turn six barrels, there is a life sacrifice. The sound is like a sonata of death, leading the scythe of death.

Who is the other party, is this person going to end his life? Casey felt that the right thumb of the man behind him had pressed the shooting button, the solenoid valve was open, and the high-pressure oil of the hydraulic system was pouring into the hydraulic motor, and the motor turned, and it drove the barrels of the six Vulcan cannons to rotate slowly, and the shells were loaded, which was like a perfect deathbed sonata. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a misty figure following her, the silhouette of the F-16. When the radar scanned this area just now, it felt that the shadow was blazing, and it was likely to be a treaty-type modified aircraft.

"Is this my death knell, he is my messenger of death."

Looking at such a nobody, Casey felt a little lost. During her years of air combat career, she regarded anyone as a god of death who came to ask for her life.

Flying combat is brutal and ruthless, and luck is sometimes more important than skill. Any rookie or young soldier can become the executioner who kills him. The ace of aces, the "Red Baron" Richthofen, died in an air battle from an English 7. 7 mm caliber bullet, but no one knows who fired the bullet. Multiple machine gunners and even an Australian infantryman claimed to have shot down the Red Baron, and the issue was so much so disputed that there was a paper in the Lancet Medical Journal stating that the Red Baron had died of brain damage.

This is a scuffle, and it is either bad luck or bad luck.

Casey never doubted that he might die from an unknown nobody who had just touched the plane for two days, and that was normal.

At this time, the muzzle of the cannon flashed.

The entire Vulcan firing process was completed in a third of a second, and Casey's feelings and thoughts were also carried out in only a third of a second. Although consciousness can be faster than lightning, only the movement of the body is slow, as if it were still.

That's why fighter pilots need to be intuitive, when the opponent's muzzle flame flickers, no matter what action they do, they can't do anything, and they can only pray that the other side is a fool with poor marksmanship, otherwise he will definitely hit.

Before the opponent is ready to enter the firing position, Casey can sense the impending fire of the cannon from the battlefield situation, and the action must be made before the opponent fires.

Having just finished refueling in the air, the plane was heavy and clumsy, and the engine roar seemed to be very laborious, and it was impossible to rely on the traditional sharp turn to be effective. Moreover, the fuselage must be tilted before making a sharp turn to dodge, which is tantamount to exposing the intention of the action, which is tantamount to self-defeat.

Sometimes, though, the biggest weakness is where the characteristics lie. Finding out what makes you different is the key to success before the war and survival after the war.

The other nomadic mercenaries had been fighting for a long time, with empty fuel tanks and light as the wind, giving them an advantage over Casey. At this time, it is not wise to urgently drain the oil to reduce the weight and compete with those who are already very light, it is equivalent to defeating the enemy with their own shortcomings, and it is too late.

At this time, the only way to do this is to use your own weight. Casey retracted the throttle stick with his left hand, and the two engines seemed to run out of gas, and the red-hot vent instantly became dull; Then raise his hand to open the handle, and at the same time open the speed brakes on the two shoulder strips of the fuselage, and switch the mode to let the vertical tail on both sides go all out to fight inward, and the whole plane is like a stegosaurus with a spine plate, and the four aerodynamic surfaces are like huge palms, violently slapping the air. The squeezed air began to show turbulence and huge swirls, forming a cocoon-like white mist above the fuselage that enveloped the plane firmly. The airflow was blocked by the airbrake, as if in anger, and the manic storm retaliated and pushed the plane in reverse. At this moment, the speed of the aircraft decreases sharply, and the lift of the wings decreases rapidly as the flow rate decreases. The on-board computer senses that the plane is about to stall, and the double backward flaps on both sides are quickly released under the instructions of the system, and the parts make a buzzing driving sound to save themselves from losing control. Casey heard this and let out a soft "Oops". Quickly manually retract the handle and forcibly retract the trailing edge flaps, which is tantamount to forcing the aircraft to stop saving itself. At the same time as the flaps retreated to the main wing, the F/A-18E Advanced Hornet fell like a kite with a broken string, belly down without warning, like a normal walking person suddenly falling into a well, so silent that almost no one noticed. Suddenly, the 20-mm shells fired at themselves arrived at the due date. The red-hot warhead mixed with bright, blinding tracer rounds, almost grazing the wingtips of Casey's vertical tail. If Casey hadn't fallen just now, the fuselage would have been shot. The action just now is a bit like the drifting sideways of a car, except that the trajectory is vertically downward. Casey maneuvered the F/A-18E to slow down in an unconventional way, too rough and risking damage to the vertical tail and deceleration plate. But this is the only way for the fighter to quickly change its state of motion without showing itself. The advanced bumblebee is too heavy, and it can't complete a good enough stall action when it is full of fuel, and the traditional action has to expose the direction of maneuver and is easy to be seen through by the opponent. There is simply no other option to keep the aircraft in a constant and deceptive manner, while quickly changing its trajectory and avoiding the trajectory of the shot. A dark shadow swept over Casey's head, and sure enough, it was the F-16, a modified Treaty Fighting Falcon.

The Treaty Falcon fighter pilot was at a loss at this time, just like the second monk. For pilots who fully understand the situation of air combat, they have forgotten themselves and entered a state of watching remote-controlled aircraft, simulating the full air combat scene in their minds, and the positions and trajectories of friends and enemies are all in their chests; Ordinary pilots, on the other hand, are not so attentive, and flying a fighter is no different from charging in an alley with a gun. That's what the eye sees, that's all there is in the mind. Casey uses his own weight to sink the plane, which is equivalent to a sudden disappearance in the field of view of the Treaty Falcon pilot.

"Did you hit or not?" He muttered to himself, then called out to his friends over the radio, "Did any of you see it?" ”

No one answered.

Casey's advanced Hornet has also undergone treaty modifications, and the fuselage is based on the low-visibility Super Hornet, and the overall stealth performance is slightly better than that of the Treaty Falcon. At this time, her plane was falling, almost the lowest in the melee, and soon disappeared into the clutter on the ground.

Low-altitude flight is an effective way to hide yourself at all times, against the naked eye and radar. But this move is also a double-edged sword. Low flying is equal to low energy, completely giving up high potential energy, once discovered, it is difficult to fight back, can only lie on the ground and be pressed and beaten. Casey is good at flying low, and she has only been pressed and beaten once in the castle tower.

The first thing to do at this point is to increase the airspeed. For fighter pilots, their own lives are determined by two values, speed and relative altitude. If any of these values drop to zero, it will be your own death date.

The advantages of the heavy fuselage began to show. The clean-looking Advanced Hornet has less drag on its fuselage, and as long as it dives with its head down, it barely needs to increase its thrust and quickly recovers its speed under the pull of gravity.

Casey looked at the aviation clock, and there were only 20 seconds left, or there was no hope. Looking up at the fighter planes in the sky like summer mosquitoes, Yingying is swirling. "Today is a good day for air combat, let's die in this melee."