Anti-Japanese War: Starting from Yaobai

Chapter 2659 Markov in despair!

Looking at the rising fireball, Vladimir and Markov looked solemn. They slowly raised their right arms and saluted the heroic transport plane.

Because without its super stability, the two of them probably wouldn't even have the chance to parachute.

So they wanted to pay tribute to the crashed transport plane.

But they didn't expect that the crazy Japanese fighter pilot had no intention of letting them go.

He saw the landing place of the two people, made a circle in the air, and then dived directly towards the two people.

The fighter plane dived down at an astonishing speed, and the roar of its engine was as deafening as thunder.

At this moment, time seemed to have frozen. Even the air became turbulent due to the high-speed movement of the plane.

The trees on the ground swayed and the leaves rustled.

The Japanese planes also descended to two hundred meters close to the ground.

At this time, the Japanese planes no longer descended in altitude, but remained parallel to the ground.

The aviation machine guns suddenly opened fire at this time, and the bullets were like a rainstorm, with a sharp whistling sound, sweeping towards the ground with the force of thunder.

In an instant, the air was filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder, and every bullet seemed to be accompanied by a scorching air wave, tearing through the air and the earth.

Under the wings, countless trees became victims. Dense bullets hit the woods, wood chips flew everywhere, and some trees fell down with crackling sounds, branches and leaves flying, revealing their pale cross-sections.

Vladimir's eyes suddenly became sharp. He grabbed Markov, who was still in a daze, and the two of them rushed into the dense woods like arrows.

Their footsteps made rapid sounds on the fallen leaves and dead branches, and every step seemed to be a race with death.

Vladimir's muscles were tense and sweat was running down his cheeks, but he had no time to care and just ran forward desperately.

Markov followed closely behind. Although his physical strength was slightly inferior, his instinct for survival made him burst out with unprecedented strength.

But the sound of bullets whizzing continued to echo in their ears, like the shrill laughter of death chasing them relentlessly.

Vladimir said silently in his heart: "I can't stop. I must not stop. I will run until there are no more bullets in his magazine."

At this moment, countless images flashed through Vladimir's mind, his wife waiting by the door, his children's smiles, his parents' expectations, and so on. These images turned into endless motivation, pushing him to move forward.

The same thing happened to Markov, but what he missed was not his family. Instead, he shouted loudly: "Brother Duanwu, brother Duanwu, my dear friend, where are you? Your best friend, Markov, is being hunted by the Japanese devils. Did you see it?"

But there was no response, and if there was any, it was only the Japanese planes roaring in the sky.

Under the crazy strafing of the Japanese fighter planes, Markov and Vladimir's escape became extremely dangerous.

The bullets swept through the entire forest like a storm, mercilessly, and every whistling sound of a bullet seemed like a declaration of death.

Their running figures seemed extremely small in the dense fire network, as if they would be swallowed up by the barrage of death at any time.

Vladimir silently repeated the names of his family members in his heart, which was the only motivation for him to persevere.

He dragged Markov and moved flexibly among the woods, but every turn and every jump they made seemed like a provocation to the god of death.

However, no matter how agile they were or how well they predicted, they could not completely avoid the overwhelming bullets. A stray bullet grazed Vladimir's shoulder, leaving a deep wound. The intense pain made Vladimir pause, but he immediately gritted his teeth and continued to run forward.

He knew that if he stopped, it would mean the end of his life.

Markov's situation was not optimistic either. A bullet hit a big tree next to him and the flying wood chips almost hit him.

At that moment, Markov felt that death was so close to him.

His heartbeat quickened and his breathing became rapid, but his instinct for survival kept him moving forward and he ran with all his might.

But at this moment, a fallen tree in front of them blocked their way.

The tree was very thick and big, with a diameter of two meters. After it fell, its branches were rotten and the tree was close to the ground.

They need to climb over that big tree before they can continue running forward.

But perhaps, they didn't have that time, because the Japanese planes were right behind them, and if they stopped at this moment, they would surely die.

When the Japanese fighter pilot saw this scene, a grim smile appeared on his face.

Because he had finally forced his enemy into a corner.

"Soviet people, go to hell! Hahaha!"

The Japanese pilot laughed cruelly and pressed the machine gun firing button until it started to smoke.

But unexpectedly, at this moment, a series of bullets suddenly came from the lower right side of the Japanese plane. A total of three bullets directly penetrated the fuel tank of the Japanese plane.

The moment the fuel tank was hit, the oil in the tank began to gush out like a fountain.

The oil drew silver arcs as the plane moved at high speed, and then sparks burst out in the violent friction with the air.

The hideous smile on the Japanese pilot's face had not yet completely disappeared when it was frozen by this sudden change. His eyes widened with disbelief.

Immediately afterwards, the oil mist met the spark, just like lighting a fuse, and a thick black smoke rose from the ruptured fuel tank and quickly spread.

The black smoke was mixed with the pungent smell of fuel and burnt metal, enveloping the entire plane.

As the black smoke grew thicker, a dazzling fireball suddenly exploded in the belly of the plane. The horrific flames spread rapidly, engulfing the entire fuselage, making the plane look like a giant bird on fire.

The Japanese pilot struggled in fear in the cockpit, trying to control the plane that was about to go out of control.

But all his efforts seemed so pale and powerless at this moment.

The high temperature of the flames penetrated the cockpit glass and baked the metal inside the cabin, causing it to deform. He tried several times to knock open the cabin glass to escape, but was unable to do so.

The temperature in the cabin was getting higher and higher, and even the gaps in many instruments were burning with flames.

A huge fire also broke out on the Japanese pilot's body, and his face was distorted by the high temperature flames.

He felt like he was living a life worse than death and just wanted to die quickly.

But it seemed as if the heavens were playing a joke on him. The plane kept burning, but the explosion he was waiting for never came!

(End of this chapter)