Invasion of the United States

A month ago, the secret investigation of 'Electric Flight' was already underway. Governor Parker had indicated that it was necessary to arrest Zhou Qingfeng, who controlled the company.

As for the charges, make one up for him—illegal drilling, test flights affecting the migration of birds, or abusing technological advantages for market monopolization!

Do I really need to teach you this?!

The agents from the two investigative agencies had some knowledge of the test farm. They knew that Zhou Qingfeng was very wealthy and had a squad of armed guards under his command.

The agents were not fools and never intended to charge into the farm recklessly. They preferred to surround it and hoped that the people inside would surrender through negotiation.

Last time, Zhou Qingfeng attacked Chris's Farm and mobilized the National Guard; this time, another large group of National Guard troops surrounded the same place.

In the gray mist outside the test farm, hundreds of military vehicles formed a long line on the highway, their engines growling, headlights cutting through the darkness as they charged forward.

But when Director Carl Vincent saw the road to the farm filled with large potholes, he knew that the joint operation by the IRS and FBI had failed.

Because there were many low-flying 'Warthog' aircraft in the farm.

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A V-22 Osprey tilt-rotor aircraft borrowed from the Air Force pierced through the night sky, its massive twin rotors creating a deep roar as the aircraft shuttled between the clouds, casting blurry shadows.

Inside this gray-green giant, Lieutenant Lula of the National Guard squeezed into the narrow cabin with twenty or thirty fully armed soldiers.

Before the operation, Lula actually hadn't received specific mission instructions. He only knew it was Governor Parker's order to cooperate with the FBI for a "raid."

But this rhetoric sounded familiar—during the last raid on Chris's Farm, it started with the same vague narrative.

As the Osprey gradually descended, the entire farm came into view.

Lula leaned out the porthole and immediately recognized he had been here before. He instantly understood his mission.

His mind raced with a series of thrilling guesses: this secret operation must be a heavenly strike against "illegal smugglers," "thieves of the nation," or "despicable outsiders."

"Runway! Runway! Land on the runway!" Lula shouted at the top of his voice inside the cabin, "There are planes in this farm, don't let the target escape by air!"

He ran to the cockpit, pointing to the flattest runway below.

The pilot nodded, skillfully adjusting the joystick. The body of the Osprey tilted, its rotors creating a fierce wind as it dived toward the target. Content first released on M_VLEM_PYR.

Lula's heart raced, feeling like a fire was burning inside his chest—blocking the runway would cut off the opponent's air escape route. The battle hadn't even begun, and he already felt victorious.

However, just as the Osprey was about to touch down, an unexpected event occurred.

A rugged-looking Warthog low-flying aircraft slowly glided out from the hangar on the farm. It didn't use the runway but stopped on the grass, all eight fans roaring to life, producing a piercing whine.

The dried grass and gravel on the ground were swept up by the fierce wind, like a miniature sandstorm.

The Warthog shook its body and took off vertically, moving smoothly like a bird of prey spreading its wings, completely ignoring the runway's presence.

"Fuck!" The pilot in the cockpit stared in disbelief, cursing, "Damn Dongda, how did they make such a useful thing!"

The Osprey was indeed an excellent machine, capable of vertical takeoffs and high-speed cruises, but it required pre-heating and checks before each takeoff, unlike the Warthog which could go at a moment's notice.

Lula squeezed next to the porthole, watching helplessly as the Warthog climbed higher. He was anxious, slapping the cabin wall and shouting, "Pin him down! Pin him down!"

He wished there was a helicopter on site that could pounce and push this arrogant "wild boar" back down to the ground.

As if God heard Lula's prayers, a helicopter painted with the "IRS" insignia darted out from the side.

Its rotors generated a sharp wind noise as the aircraft hovered agilely above the Warthog, like an eagle locking onto its prey.

The helicopter pilot was evidently experienced, using the air currents and altitude advantage to pin down the Warthog's ascent route, immobilizing it.

"Awesome! It can't escape now!" Lula, ecstatic, pounded his fist against the cabin wall, grinning widely to reveal a mouthful of white teeth.

The soldiers inside the cabin, unclear about what was happening but infected by his excitement, gave low cheers.

Outside the window, the Warthog's fans continued to roar uselessly. Under the helicopter's suppression, it struggled in mid-air like a bird with its wings trapped.

Then... another Warthog emerged from the adjacent hangar.

With short-term motor overload, all eight fans spun wildly, driving the aircraft's ten-meter wingspan into the sky, quickly vanishing into the night.

The cheers in the Osprey's cabin abruptly ceased. Even Lula, along with the group of soldiers, looked dumbfounded as if witnessing a divine miracle.

It turned out that the target wasn't just one low-flying aircraft.

In the cockpit, the pilot turned and yelled, "What are you dazing about? Get down there and block those hangars."

The Osprey's aft ramp clanged open, and the twenty or thirty soldiers rushed out with loud shouts. As they tried to prevent anything...

The first Warthog that had taken off and hovered for a moment suddenly turned. It deftly avoided the IRS helicopter above it.

The IRS pilot tried to continue suppressing the first Warthog.

But that Warthog accelerated at low altitude, skimming barely ten meters above the ground and shooting out, disappearing into the darkness.