---
"Americans... here I come."
A wild spark flashed in Andrei's eyes. A memory rose, sharp and bitter — a moment from a world no longer his.
The EP-3 incident over the South China Sea. The long-obsolete J-8II had been scrambled. The brave pilot, Wang Wei, flew in formation with his captain to intercept an American surveillance plane. But the encounter turned deadly — the hulking EP-3 veered too close. Its massive propeller struck the tail of Wang Wei's jet like a buzz saw.
The J-8II broke apart. Wang ejected. He was never found.
That event became a national wound — a name etched in steel.
And Lei Tian, in his former life, never forgot it.
Now, reborn in the cockpit of a MiG-25, facing an EP-3 again, rage smoldered beneath Andrei's calm.
Not today. Not again.
---
The MiG-25 was built for war. At Mach 2.5, the air friction alone raised the nose temperature to over 300°C — enough to melt aluminum like wax. That's why other fighters couldn't push past Mach 2.5. Their frames simply couldn't take the heat.
The Americans used titanium to build the SR-71 — fast, but fragile, with limited maneuverability. Great for reconnaissance, useless in a fight.
The Soviets went another way: stainless steel. Heavy, yes. But brutally strong.
Western analysts claimed the MiG-25 was too weak to pull high-G turns.
Reality? Some pilots had hit 11.5G and walked away.
The MiG-25 wasn't just fast. It was a flying weapon.
---
The afterburners roared.
Andrei surged forward — a streak of flame diving beneath the American plane.
Inside the EP-3, the Americans were relaxed, cocky even. Thirty more seconds and their signal sweep would be complete. No one expected contact. The Soviets always barked, never bit.
They'd brag about this run over drinks in Hawaii next week.
They were wrong.
---
"032, check your altitude!" Belenko's voice barked through the headset.
He'd noticed something off. Soviet intercepts always passed overhead — a show of force from above. But Andrei was diving low, lining up beneath the EP-3's wingline.
"What the hell is he doing?" Belenko muttered.
Too late.
---
The MiG-25 had no rear view. Andrei was flying blind, relying entirely on instinct. The EP-3's left wing loomed above him.
He pulled back slightly on the stick — lifting his nose — just as the tail of the MiG surged forward.
"Andrei, lower the nose! You're going to hit it!" Belenko shouted.
But the warning came one second too late.
---
The MiG's towering right vertical stabilizer — made of razor-hard stainless steel — sliced past the EP-3's wing like a blade.
A scream of metal. A burst of sparks.
The tip of the stabilizer clipped the No.1 engine and shredded the outer edge of the EP-3's left wing.
---
Inside the EP-3, alarms shrieked.
"Engine One! Shut it down! We've lost a section of the wing!"
The observer on the left side watched in disbelief as metal fragments spun past the window. Flames licked the edge of the wing. The propeller screeched to a halt.
The aircraft shook like a leaf in a storm.
"Crazy Soviet bastards!" the pilot roared.
Andrei was already gone — accelerating out of the engagement, afterburners flaring in a final, defiant flash.
His first close encounter with the enemy was over.
And this time, he'd made the cut.