"Buzz, buzz." A single-engine propeller plane is flying in the sky, with a monoplane, a light fuselage, and the engine at the front of the end drives the propeller, constantly rotating.

This is a very ordinary private jet, and the flight personnel on the plane are just a young man, he has a high nose bridge of Westerners, but he has the black eyes of an Easterner, and he is a mixed race.

At this time, he was excitedly piloting this private jet, making dazzling movements, he pushed the control stick, kicked the rudder, a rapid roll, a steep slope of the bend, and then, a vertical climb, the private jet seemed to follow his movements and get excited, whining.

"Rick is amazing!" On the ground, several young men who were also young looked up at the sky, extremely envious, this was a field, they set up an awning, a flag tied next to it, fluttering in the sky, the words of the American Civil Flying Association, kept shaking.

This is an event organized by the American Civil Flying Association, as a developed country, the number of private jets is very large, and there are many people who learn to fly, but most of them are rookie pilots, who will only fly the plane and land again, and like this guy in the sky, he simply treats flying as a game, and he is extremely excited.

"Yes, the association is ready to report Rick to the relevant departments as a young eagle." A middle-aged man stood behind them and said quietly.

Eagles! Hearing this, everyone became even more excited, oh my God! Eagles!

The Eagle Eagle, produced in the civilian sector, is a reserve seed for official military pilots, and is recommended to the U.S. Air Force and Naval Air Force by civilian flight associations throughout the United States, and every year the Eagle joins the military. Become an enviable pilot.

Looking at people like Rick, only the army is the stage for him to perform, and this ordinary private jet can't satisfy his soaring in the sky.

At this time, Rick was still flying in the sky, and. As if there was still an imaginary enemy, he imagined the flight of the enemy plane in his head, chased it, and then pressed the button on the joystick.

"Tom, tom." Rick shouted in his own mouth, the muscles on his face were overloaded and deformed, and he finally exhaled: "The enemy plane has been shot down, now return." ”

There is not much fuel in the plane anymore. Must be returned.

"Squeak." The landing gear of the aircraft flexibly touches the ground ground, and this kind of private jet, which does not necessarily require a special runway, level land, can also land.

"Rick, you're awesome!" A young man said, looking at Rick as he stepped out of the cabin. At this time, he was sweating all over his head, and he was just drenched all over.

"It's a pity it's just a private jet. If only it were a tomcat! Rick said.

"Rick, your private jet, but your father built it for you, has a lot of horsepower and excellent flight performance, it is almost comparable to the propeller fighters in World War II. If you were to fight the Mustang in the air, you would be able to defeat them. ”

Hearing this, Rick smiled, he had a father he was proud of. His father opened a small aircraft production plant. It was under the influence of his father that Rick became obsessed with flying from an early age.

"Rick, you'll be able to drive a Tomcat soon." The president of the association smiled and said to him: "I am about to recommend you as an eagle, the military may come down soon to investigate, as long as you just flew in the sky, there is absolutely no problem." ”

"The military hasn't had time lately, and I've heard that they're welcoming a hero from Pakistan." One member said.

Pakistan? Hearing this, Rick immediately felt a chill in his heart: "Who is it?" ”

"I heard that his name is Mhammad, and he is a big hero who fought on the battlefield in Afghanistan, and the current Free Army of Afghanistan was created by him."

Mhammad? Free Afghan Army? Rick was very familiar, he often heard his father say the name of this man, and often saw his father alone, staring at the map in a daze.

"Where are they now?"

"It's on Long Island, Grumman, I heard it's here to investigate."

"Quick, refuel my plane, I'm going back." Rick shouted, and took out an oil drum from the pickup truck next to him.

The eastern part of Long Island is a wealthy area, where there are villas next to each other, and private jets are still parked on the lawns outside some villas.

Many wealthy people like to fly their own planes to work, and among the wealthy in the United States, private jets are as common as private cars.

In a corner of the affluent neighborhood is a private jet manufacturing plant.

The factory building is not large, all kinds of processing equipment are complete, dozens of workers, there is an assembly of a private jet.

The manufacturing industry in the United States is extremely developed, and many parts and components can be ordered from the cheapest manufacturers.

The same is just ordinary parts, but the private jets assembled here are very popular, flying steadily, with excellent performance, and many people are immediately settled after watching the performance of the boss here.

This is no ordinary private jet! This kind of private jet can make all kinds of flight maneuvers, handsome and cool! Although they only dare to fly in a straight line when they buy it back, it will not stop their yearning for aerobatics.

There is a narrow runway outside the factory, where every inch of land is at a premium, and it is already very remarkable to have such a runway, and at the end of the runway, there are piles of debris.

If you are not careful and rush off the runway when you land, you will be dumbfounded.

Rick, however, skillfully operated the plane, and without hesitation plunged down from the sky, and when the wheels landed on the ground, he stepped on the rudder with both legs, and at the same time pressed on the brakes, the wheels creaked, and stopped three meters away from the pile of debris.

The engine stalled, the propeller stalled, and Rick jumped out of the plane, shouting as he ran, "Father, father!" Good news, good news! ”

Where is the father? Rick ran all the way into the factory, and finally, in the office, saw his father, a calm middle-aged man, at this time, there were several unfamiliar faces talking to his father, they exchanged a text, and then shook hands with each other.

Seeing Rick come in, old Arslan's eyes were full of love, and he shook hands with a few people on the other side and sent them away.

"Father, what are these gentlemen doing? Why haven't you seen them before? Rick asked.

"They're Cessna people." Old Arslan said.

Cessna? This is the most famous private jet manufacturer in the United States, and it is also a strong competitor to this small company, what are they doing here?

"I sold this company to them, along with the factory and our villa." Old Arslan said.

Hearing this, even though he was only fifteen years old, Rick immediately understood: "Father, are we homeless? ”

"Of course not, Rick, our home is not here, we should go home now." Old Arslan's face was full of smiles.

Rick didn't understand what his father was talking about, at this time, the old Arslan, his eyes looked at his desk, under the glass above, pressed a stamp, on it, is a photo of the old Arslan more than ten years ago, at that time, he was also heroic.

Ten years, these ten years, although he has mixed well in the United States, the old Arslan has never forgotten his homeland.

Muhammad Ahmad Arslan, born in Bangladesh in 1935, was an F-86 Sabre ace pilot. During the Second Indo-Pakistani War in 1965, he was an outstanding leader and experienced pilot as Commander of the 11th Squadron, Air Force Major. In one encounter, Arslan was awarded the Star of Courage for shooting down four Indian planes in one minute and a fifth later, a record that no one has broken until later generations. He has countless firsts on his body, he is the first and only jet pilot to reach the ace standard in a single mission, and he is also the only 1-day ace in the jet era.

Arslan is a national hero of Pakistan and his name is listed at the very top of the list of the Pakistan Air Force Museum Hall of Fame in Karachi. In his lifetime, he shot down more than a dozen Indian planes.

Unfortunately, in the third Indo-Pakistani war, the old Arslan and his comrades-in-arms tried their best to fight against the three air forces that had an advantage in the number and quality of fighters, but in the end Pakistan was defeated, this defeat, the leader of Arslan's hometown of East Pakistan was divided into Bangladesh, and Arslan, who was seriously wounded on the battlefield, chose to retire from the army in addition to grief and anger, and took his wife and children to go through immigration procedures to settle in the United States. His wife was an American female journalist who fell in love with him because of his interview, and his son Rick was only 5 years old at the time.

With his previous experience, the elder Arslan engaged in the manufacture and production of small aircraft, became a wealthy man on Long Island, and also made a name for himself in the American aviation industry. Although he lived a wealthy life and was accompanied by his wife and children, he could never forget his comrades who fought with him and died to death, and he could not forget the series of hardships suffered by his motherland because of the defeat in that war.

Mhammad, this is a magical man, he created one myth after another on the battlefield in Afghanistan, and now, as a Pakistani brigadier general, he came to the United States, came to Grumman, he must have come to buy Tomcat fighters! When this fighter is equipped with the Pakistan Air Force, Pakistan will have enough strength to face any strong enemy, especially India!

It's time to go home! Sell all your wealth and donate it to the Motherland! Help Brigadier General Mhammad break through the barriers of the US Congress and buy a Tomcat fighter! (To be continued......)