Wildman gazed at the endless dark clouds in the distance.
"We're out of time; escort squadron, it's your moment now. Take off as planned."
Thunderstorm weather provided the best cover for them at this moment, and the players had no time to delay.
The airport, still in shambles from missile strikes, wasn't fully repaired, but several fighter jets were already on the runway.
The advantage of vector engines was apparent at this moment—the runway requirement was so low that if it could park, it could fly.
"Roger that!"
The giant in the fighter cockpit watched a few pea-sized raindrops splinter into pieces on the cockpit glass.
"Wow... this rain is intense, crazier than any storm I've seen in Hangzhou and the Magic City over the years."
Voices of other pilots came through the channel.
"Man, this is Cuba; the tropical rainforest climate means the rainfall here is way heavier than back home."
"Bro, I feel ready to apply to the Air Force academy."
