Chapter 1183

Location: somewhere in Eastern Europe thousands of miles away.

Time: twenty hours ago.

Two elderly Soviet pilots boarded the cab of their ancient li-2pg passenger and cargo aircraft.

The pilot sat heavily in the worn chair with exposed stitches, touched his red rosacea, and took out a 500ml bottle of vodka from the old flight suit - the brown bear on the label showed that this bottle of vodka was produced in Russia and had a frightening degree.

Put the mouth of the bottle into his mouth. The pilot, who was already in his fifties, gulped up and drank several mouthfuls, then stretched out to the side and handed it to the co pilot.

"Yakov, have a drink!"

The co pilot grinned, revealing a jagged yellow tooth.

He took the vodka, poured two mouthfuls into his mouth without mind, bared his teeth and half closed his eyes, and enjoyed the burning feeling brought by those high-intensity liquor sliding through the esophagus into his stomach. The nerves in his body seemed to be stimulated and fully activated at once.

It was completely different from the tired look of just walking into the cockpit and half sleeping in the dark. The co pilot Yakov seemed to be resurrected in situ and filled with blood, entering a state of excitement.

He covered the wine bottle and handed it back to his master - the main pilot osberev and Yakov quickly turned on the switches of various instruments - in fact, there were not many switches. This li-2pg aircraft was launched in the early 1980s and has been used as a multi-purpose passenger and cargo aircraft, and some models have been converted into reconnaissance aircraft.

However, with the disintegration of the huge former Soviet Union, the divided small country did not have the ability to maintain these aircraft. Except that a small part still remained in the army, the rest were either acquired by private companies or moldy in the aircraft cemetery. The fate was the same as that once brilliant empire.

The plane made osberev and Yakov feel very much. It was a tool for them to make a living.

After the disintegration, both of them, who used to work as stable pilots, lost their jobs. Later, the air force dealt with a batch of li-2pg passenger and cargo aircraft. Together, they took out a small amount of savings and bought one of the second-hand goods, which are usually used to transport goods and occasionally people.

As former Air Force pilots, they seem to be very tall. In fact, they didn't live as well as dogs during the period when the motherland was divided. It's good to have a job.

Business is not good recently. Osberev is worried about getting sick. He can't afford to fly without income.

But things soon turned around, and luck came and hit osberev on the head.

A week ago, a middle-aged man who claimed to be the boss of the trading company came to the door and said that there was a business to take care of osberev, but asked osberev not to ask anything except the flight route and schedule, and to be blind and deaf in the whole process.

After talking, the old osberev smelled an unusual smell.

The transportation business may not be as simple as it seems - the destination is Somalia in Africa. Osberefton's heart clicked when he heard the name.

That's not a good place.

Go to the desert of a country out of control to transport a batch of goods that can't be asked or seen. The water in it can be as deep as it needs to be. It's guaranteed to be weapons or something.

The so-called trading companies now are probably arms dealers.

Osberev had never done such a job before.

In order to survive and live, he and his partner Yakov sometimes had to put down the dignity of former Soviet Air Force officers and take some piecemeal or even illegal jobs.

Just as osberev was thinking about how much more he would pay this guy to be worthy of his adventure and deliberately lingered, the visitor directly photographed a pile of US dollar cash on the table.

It was a stack of three bundles of cash dollars, the familiar green, Franklin's head, and the tempting 100 yuan figure.

Osberev almost didn't spit on the spot.

The guest told him that if he agreed, the 30000 US dollars would be regarded as a deposit to refuel and maintain the plane. After a week, he would wait at the suburban freight airport. Everything else would be arranged by the guests themselves. As for the flight route, where to fly, where to refuel, and then where to land, all the specific route lists would be sent to osberev.

Sure enough, when osberev and Yakov checked all the instruments of the plane and felt normal, the middle-aged man of the trading company appeared on the plane.

"Osberev, is your plane all right?"

The guest looked at the backward dashboard of the old plane and was a little worried.

Osberev patted his chest and said, "no problem! I know every part of the plane very well. Now it's in better shape than ever. Just like a young man in his early twenties, giving him ten girls is not enough! Ha ha ha ha!"

As soon as he smiled, his mouth opened and the strong smell of vodka rose to the sky.

The guest frowned, but said nothing.

In the former Soviet Union, these big maoers drank vodka as coke. It is said that some pilots don't know how to fly planes if you don't give them vodka.

"This is the flight schedule. You fly and refuel in strict accordance with the above routes and locations. Remember not to make a mistake!"

Osberev took the flight schedule, frowned and looked at it carefully, then thumbed up: "no problem!"

"Then everything is up to you. When you get to Somalia, someone will meet you. The landing place is a little troublesome. It's not a regular airport, but I think it's not difficult for you, right?" the guest said.

Osberev continues to take charge. When is it now? No, you have to! This is a big deal. Getting the balance is enough for him and his partner Yakov to go to the seaside of the Black Sea to enjoy the beach sunshine for a long time, and enough to pay his mountain of bills. Everything depends on this business.

The guest nodded and got off the plane with a little worry.

When osberev saw the guest leave, he closed the cabin door and pasted the flight table above the cab.

"Yakov, this business is not easy."

Yakov looked at the flight arrangement, nodded and said, "yes, refuel twice... Fly more than 8000 kilometers. It's really a long journey..."

"I can't care so much, making money is important!" osberev pushed the joystick and gently stepped on the accelerator, and the plane began to slide slowly to the runway take-off position.

They all know that this is a difficult voyage, during which they refuel twice, and the refueling points are in some unsafe and messy third world countries. Every time they stop to refuel, they will already be in danger of being damaged by low-quality fuel. Fortunately, this aircraft originated from the former Soviet Union and uses two Wright r-1820 cyclone engines produced by svetsov m-62 according to the license. Although the model number is older, it is absolutely resistant to manufacture and operation!

However, in the face of generous remuneration, all dangers are floating clouds.

Their employers promised that they would receive generous bonuses if they arrived at the designated location in Somalia on time. They are no longer the former Soviet air force. They are flying for themselves, not for the Soviet air force that paid them decades ago. The faster you finish the task, the sooner you get the money, and then go back to the country where you live to continue your small life. This is the king's way.

In the roar, the li-2pg transport plane slowly flew into the sky and soon disappeared into the clouds in the distance.

On the ground, the guest who hired osberev and Yakov stood in a corner of the airport, watched the plane disappear into his sight, then picked up the satellite phone and dialed a number.

"Everything is done. Let the laboratory prepare."

He looked at his watch.

"All evacuations will begin in twenty-five hours."