Dominate South Asia

"Buzz, buzz." A single-engine propeller plane was flying in the sky. It had a single wing and a light fuselage. The engine at the front drove the propeller and kept rotating.

This is a very ordinary private plane. The pilot on the plane is just a young man. He has a high nose bridge like a Westerner, but dark eyes like an Easterner. He is a mixed race.

At this time, he was excitedly flying the private jet, making dazzling movements one after another. He pushed the operating stick, pedaled the rudder, made a rapid roll, curved at a steep slope, and then climbed vertically. A private jet seemed to get excited with his movements and made a whining sound.

"Rick is awesome!" On the ground, several young guys looked up at the sky with great envy. This was a wilderness. They set up an awning with a flag hanging next to it, flying in the sky. The United States The words "Civil Aviation Association" kept shaking.

This is an event organized by the American Civil Aviation Association. As a developed country, there are a lot of private planes, and there are many people who have learned to fly, but most of them are rookie pilots who can only fly the plane up and land it. Like this guy in the sky, he simply treats flying as a game. He is extremely excited to be in it.

"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.

Young eagle! Hearing the words, everyone became even more excited, Oh my God! Young eagle!

Young eagles are produced by the private sector and are the reserve seeds for official military pilots. They are recommended to the U.S. Air Force and Naval Aviation by civilian flight associations across the country. Every year, young eagles join the military and become enviable pilots.

For people like Rick, only the military is the stage for him to perform. This ordinary private plane cannot satisfy his soaring in the sky.

At this time, Rick was still flying in the sky, and it seemed that there was still an imaginary enemy. In his mind, he was imagining the flight of the enemy plane, chasing after it, and then pressing the button on the operating stick.

"Boom, boom, boom." Rick shouted in his own mouth, and the muscles on his face were overloaded and deformed. He finally shouted: "The enemy plane has been shot down, return now."

There is not much fuel in the plane and it must return.

"Squeak." The landing gear of the aircraft flexibly touched the ground. This kind of private aircraft does not necessarily need a special runway and can land on flat land.

"Rick, you are awesome!" said a young man, looking at Rick who walked out of the cabin. At this time, he was covered in sweat and his whole body was soaked.

"It's a pity that it's just a private plane. It would be great if it was a Tomcat!" Rick said.

"Rick, your private plane was specially built for you by your father. It has high horsepower and excellent flight performance. It can compete with the propeller fighters in World War II. If you were to fight a Mustang in an air battle, you could beat them. "

Hearing this, Rick smiled, he had a father that made him proud. His father opened a small aircraft production factory. It was under his father's influence that Rick became obsessed with flying since he was a child.

"Rick, you will be able to drive a Tomcat soon." The president of the association smiled and said to him: "I am about to recommend you as a young eagle. The military may come down to inspect you soon. As far as your flight in the sky was concerned, there was absolutely nothing wrong with it.”

"The military has no time recently. I heard that they are welcoming a hero from Pakistan." A member said.

Pakistan? Hearing this, Rick immediately felt shocked: "Who is it?"

"I heard that his name was Mhammad. He was a great hero who fought on the battlefield in Afghanistan. He founded the current Free Afghan Army."

Hammad? Free Afghan Army? Rick was very familiar with it. He often heard his father recite this person's name, and often saw his father alone, staring at the map in a daze.

"Where are they now?"

"On Long Island, Grumman Company, I heard they are here for inspection."

"Quick, refuel my plane, I'm going back." Rick shouted, taking out an oil drum from the pickup truck on the side.

The eastern part of Long Island is a wealthy area. There are villas here and there. Private planes are parked on the lawns outside some villas.

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

In a corner of a wealthy area is a private jet manufacturing plant.

The factory building is not large and has all kinds of processing equipment. Dozens of workers are assembling a private jet there.

The manufacturing industry in the United States is extremely developed, and many parts can be ordered from the manufacturer with the cheapest price. This private jet manufacturer actually assembles various parts together.

The private jets assembled here are also just ordinary parts, but they are very popular, with stable flight and excellent performance. Moreover, many people made their decision immediately after watching the performance of the boss here.

This is no ordinary private jet! This kind of private plane can make all kinds of flying movements. It's so handsome and cool! Although they only dare to fly in a straight line after buying it, it does not stop them from yearning for aerobatics.

There is a narrow runway outside the factory. The land here is very expensive. It is already very remarkable to have such a runway. Moreover, at the end of the runway, it is full of debris.

If you are not careful, you will run out of the runway when landing, which will be a surprise.

Rick is skilled in operating the plane and dives down from the sky without hesitation. When the wheels landed on the ground, he stepped on the rudder with both legs and the brakes at the same time. The wheels made a squeaking sound and stopped three meters away from the pile of debris.

The engine was turned off and the propeller stopped. Rick jumped out of the plane and shouted loudly while running: "Father, father! Good news, good news!"

Where is my father? Rick ran into the factory and finally saw his father in the office, a calm middle-aged man. At this time, several unfamiliar faces were talking to his father. They exchanged a document and shook hands with each other.

Seeing Rick coming in, old Arslan's eyes were full of love. He shook hands with the people opposite and sent them away.

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

"They are from Cessna." Old Arslan said.

Cessna? This is the most famous private aircraft manufacturer in the United States and a strong competitor of this small company. What are they doing here?

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

Hearing this, although 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 saying. At this time, old Arslan looked at his desk. Under the glass on it, there was a stamp. On it was a photo of old Arslan more than ten years ago. At that time, he was also heroic.

Ten years have passed. Although he has been doing well in the United States, old Arslan has never forgotten his motherland.

Mohammad Ahmed Arslan was born in Bangladesh in 1935. He is an ace pilot of F-86 Sabre. In the second Indo-Pakistani war in 1965, he was an outstanding leader and experienced pilot as the commander of the 11th Squadron and an Air Force Major. In an encounter, Arslan shot down four Indian planes in one minute and shot down the fifth one later. This record has not been broken until later generations. Arslan was awarded the Star of Courage. He has countless firsts. He is the first and only jet pilot to reach the ace standard in a single mission. He is also the only 1-day ace in the jet age.

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

Unfortunately, in the third Indo-Pakistani war, old Arslan and his comrades tried their best to fight against the Indian Air Force, which had an advantage in both the number and quality of fighter planes, but Pakistan was defeated in the end. This defeat led to the division of Arslan's hometown, East Pakistan, into Bangladesh. Arslan, who was seriously injured on the battlefield, chose to retire from the army in grief and anger, and took his wife and children to settle in the United States. His wife was an American female reporter who fell in love with him and married him because of an interview, and his son Rick was only 5 years old at the time.

Relying on his previous experience, old Arslan engaged in the manufacture and production of small aircraft and became a wealthy man in Long Island. At the same time, he also became famous in the American aviation industry. Although he lived a wealthy life and had a beautiful wife and children around him, he could never forget the comrades who fought with him and could not forget the series of sufferings his motherland suffered because of the failure of that war. In the past ten years, he has always been thinking about returning to his motherland, and now, the opportunity has finally come!

Muhammad, this is a magical man. He created one myth after another on the battlefield in Afghanistan. Now, as a Pakistani brigadier, he came to the United States and came to Grumman. He must be here to buy Tomcat fighters! When this fighter is equipped with the Pakistan Air Force, Pakistan will have enough power 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 Muhammad break through the barriers of the US Congress and buy Tomcat fighters!