Looking at the rising fireball, Vladimir and Marklov looked solemn, slowly raised their right arm and saluted the hero's transport plane.

Because if it weren't for its super stability, I'm afraid the two of them wouldn't even have the chance to jump.

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

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

He saw the landing place of the two people, made a spiral in the air, and dived directly in the direction of the two people.

The fighter dives down at an astonishing speed, and the roar of the engine is as deafening as thunder.

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

The trees on the ground sway and the leaves rustled.

The Japanese plane also lowered its altitude to two hundred meters close to the ground.

At this time, the Japanese plane no longer descended its height, but remained parallel to the ground.

The air gun suddenly opened fire at this time, and the bullets swept to the ground like a heavy rain, with a sharp whistling sound.

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

Under the wings, countless trees became victims. The dense bullets hit the woods, and wood chips splashed everywhere. With the sound of crackling and crackling, some trees fell down, with branches and leaves flying, revealing a pale cross section.

Vladimir's eyes became sharp in an instant. He pulled Macrof, who was still stunned. The figures of the two plunged into the dense woods like arrows.

Their steps made rapid sounds on the fallen leaves and dead branches, and each step seemed to be racing against the god of death.

Vladimir's muscles were tight and sweat slid down his cheeks, but he had no time to take care of it and just ran forward desperately.

Marklof followed closely behind. Although his physical strength was slightly inferior, his instinct to survive made him burst out with unprecedented strength.

But the sound of bullets whistling still echoed in their ears, chasing them like the sharp smile of death.

Vladimir murmured in his heart: "You can't stop, you must never stop. I want to run to his bullet bay without bullets."

At this moment, countless scenes flashed through Vladimir's mind, his wife's waiting with her door, the child's smile, parents' expectations, etc. These scenes all turned into endless motivation, pushing him forward.

The same is true for Macklov, but he missed not his family, but shouted loudly: "Dragon Boat Festival Brothers, Dragon Boat Festival Brothers, my dear friend, where are you? Your best friend, Macklov, is being chased by the Japanese. Have you seen it?"

But there was no response, and if there was anything, there would be only the Japanese who were whistling in the air.

Under the crazy strafing of the Japanese fighter planes, the escape route between Marklov and Vladimir became extremely dangerous.

The bullets were like a storm, sweeping across the entire woods ruthlessly, and every whistling of the bullet was like a declaration of death.

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

Vladimir silently recited the name of his family in his heart, which was his only motivation to persevere.

He pulled Macrof and walked flexibly among the woods, but every turn and jumping of them seemed like a provocation to death.

However, no matter how agile or predicted, they could not completely avoid the overwhelming bullets.

A stray bullet brushed Vladimir's shoulder and cut a deep wound. The severe pain made Vladimir's footsteps pause, but he immediately gritted his teeth and continued to run forward.

He knew that once he stopped, it meant the end of his life.

Marklof's situation was not optimistic either. A bullet hit a big tree beside him, and the splash of wood chips almost hit him.

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

His heart beat faster and his breathing became rapid, but his instinct to survive made him not stop and ran forward with the strength to feed himself.

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

The tree is very thick and big, with a diameter of only two meters. After falling down, the branches decayed and the big tree was already close to the ground.

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

But perhaps, they don’t have that time anymore, because the Japanese plane is behind them, and as long as they stop at this time, there will be only one way to die.

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

Because he finally forced his enemies into a dead corner.

"Soviets, go to die! Hahaha!"

The Japanese pilot laughed cruelly and pressed the machine gun launch button to smoke.

But I didn't expect that at this moment, a series of bullets suddenly came from the bottom of the right side of the Japanese plane, and a total of three bullets penetrated directly through the Japanese plane's fuel tank.

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

The oil drew silver arcs during the high-speed movement of the plane, and then sparks burst out in the violent friction with the air.

The grin on the Japanese pilot's face had not completely dissipated, but it was frozen by the sudden change. His eyes were wide open, full of disbelief.

Immediately afterwards, the oil mist met with Mars, and it was like igniting the fuse. A strong black smoke rose from the crack of the fuel tank and spread quickly.

The black smoke mixed with the pungent smell of fuel and the burnt metal smell wrapped the entire plane in it.

As the black smoke became stronger, a dazzling fireball suddenly exploded on the abdomen of the plane, and the terrifying flames spread rapidly, swallowing the entire fuselage, making the plane look like a big bird that burns fire.

The Japanese pilot struggled in horror in the cockpit, trying to control the plane that was about to lose control.

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

The high temperature of the flames passed through the cockpit glass, baking the metal in the cabin, which made him unable to escape by knocking on the cabin glass several times.

The temperature in the cabin was getting higher and higher, and even the cracks in many instruments were ignited.

A fire broke out on the Japanese pilot's body, and the Japanese's face was twisted and deformed as the high-temperature flames burned.

He was not as good as death at this time, and he just wanted to let himself die soon.
Chapter completed!