below. Half a minute later, three more explosions shook the ship – Kudryavtsev and two of his pilots didn't miss either. A shortcoming of the Zuikaku design was the lack of armor protection for the fuel tanks and gas lines, and this omission proved fatal for the ship. Only two bombs penetrated the armored deck separating the aircraft hangars from the ship's inner compartments, but the burning fuel that rushed into the breaches made it impossible to continue fighting for the survivability of the heavily damaged aircraft carrier.
The carbon dioxide fire suppression systems were not designed for a fire of this magnitude, and the flames quickly engulfed the entire ship. Air bombs and torpedoes prepared for the planes standing in the hangars began to explode in the burning jet fuel. I didn't get a good look at all of this until later, in the recording that Letra made. At that moment I had completely different problems.
“The right engine is on fire!” The panic was gone from Letra's voice, but it sounded grim and worried. “The engine is out… The fire is out. Lieutenant, you won't make it to the airfield on one engine.”
“And as far as the Chinese coast?”
“Maybe. With local machinery, especially damaged machinery, predictions are not reliable.”
I made contact on the common wave.
“Group, this is "Cruiser," heading northwest! Congratulations on a successful combat mission! "Second", take roll call and report casualties and damage.”
On the virtual map, I saw that we lost two planes and three more planes took shrapnel hits that had almost no effect on their speed. Kudryavtsev's report, which sounded five minutes later, naturally coincided with these data.
Unlike the other planes in the group, my IL was a single-seater. On my order, it was redesigned back in the Soviet Union, so now no one but me knew about the condition of my plane. The group was gradually moving forward toward the Chinese shore, and I, with my only engine, was falling further and further behind. It was time to make Kudryavtsev aware of my problems.
“"Second", this is "Cruiser". Take command of the group. I've got a busted right engine. I can't go faster than 500. I'll try to make it to the shore and jump. Your job is to bring our planes home. Before I jump, I'll give you my coordinates so you can find me, but first I need everyone to land in one piece. You are personally responsible for this. Is the task clear?”
Kudryavtsev replied after a few seconds. “ "Cruiser", this is "Second", the sun will soon rise and you will be intercepted by Japanese fighters from Taiwan. You won't make it to the Chinese coast.”
“Execute the order, General!”
Kudryavtsev, ignoring my words, began to give orders.
“"Seventh", "Fourteenth", and "Fifteenth", continue on your previous course. "Third" and "Nineteenth", escort the damaged planes to the airfield. The rest of the group, keep the speed of four hundred and fifty. Secure the commander's damaged plane.”
“This is disobeying an order in a combat situation, Comrade Kudryavtsev. Do you want to be court-martialed?”
“I can be court-martialed, Comrade Colonel General. But only on your written order.”
I grinned silently. I will only be able to give the order in writing if I get to ours, which, in fact, the "Second" is trying to do. Well, let it be so, especially since Kudryavtsev is right – I could really run into the Japanese on my way to the Chinese coast.
My head was hurting more and more.
“Letra, what hit me so hard?”
“A shard of armored glass. The close explosion of an anti-aircraft shell. You're still lucky.”
“I understand that myself,” I tried to nod, which made me dizzy. And that's how bad I feel, even under the influence of the "battle cocktail". Without it, I would have passed out a long time ago.
Letra found no damage to my IL's control system, but the further I flew, the more it seemed that the plane was not obeying me well. I had to forget everything else and concentrate solely on piloting.
“Commander, how's your plane?” Kudryavtsev's question sounded in my headphones, and it echoed in my head in a strange way. The blows to the skull are fraught with consequences. Either something shifted there, or it was a side effect of the chemicals injected into my bloodstream.
“It's flying so far…” I struggled to answer.
“You sound strange. Are you hurt?”
“I got hit in the head with a piece of glass, but I'm in control for now.”
“So… Hold on and don't get distracted by anything. The main thing for you is to make it to the shore, to jump properly, and to land without breaking your neck. We'll do the rest.”
Kudryavtsev was no longer in contact with me, but Letra was broadcasting his talks and commands to me. To begin with, the Major-General alerted the entire regiment. It was probably wise, especially since there was an unhealthy commotion at the Taiwanese airbase of the Japanese. At an airfield south of Hong Kong, Zero squadrons were also preparing for takeoff. The Samurai didn't seem to like what we did to the Zuikaku very much. They were thirsty for revenge, and someone was not averse to helping them in that endeavor.
Lieutenant of State Security Ignatov never got to sleep that night, and, to all appearances, he was not the only one like that at the Chongqing airbase. The Lieutenant came out of the officers' dugout to get a breath of fresh air, which, to tell you the truth, wasn't much outside either. The stuffy, windless night pressed on his psyche, a scattering of stars twinkled in the dark sky. The Lieutenant did not immediately notice a lone female figure against the background of the planes covered by camouflage nets – Lena also decided to go outside.
“They should be back at dawn,” she said as Ignatov came and stood beside her. “I'm uneasy, I feel that something is wrong.”
“This always happens when you're really looking forward to the return of a loved one,” Ignatov tried to reassure her. “Nerves…”
“It has nothing to do with nerves,” she shook her head negatively. “This time, as he was leaving, I didn't feel him to be confident. Pyotr didn't like something, but he didn't say what it was. And Kudryavtsev acted strangely, too. I heard him tell the regiment chief of staff that Nagulin had never changed his mind before, but this time he almost immediately agreed to double the number of planes assigned to the operation.”
Ignatov was silent, pondering what he had heard, and Lena spoke again:
“There's nothing worse than standing and waiting like this…”
The alarm squealed, breaking the silence of the night. That sound did not mean an attack on the base, but undoubtedly something important happened. Lena and Ignatov ran to the dugout of Colonel Lebedev, to whom they both now reported.
In a minute their entire combined team was already gathered in the dugout. Lebedev had just finished talking to the Air Regiment Chief of Staff. The officer ran upstairs as if someone was chasing him. Ignatov had never before noticed this elderly Lieutenant Colonel running so fast, and this stressed him even more than the alarm that had just stopped howling.
Lebedev looked around his subordinates with a heavy gaze, and held it on Lena for a split second.
“Colonel General Nagulin's air group completed its combat mission,”
