Mav __top__ — Pc

He was no fraud. He was the PC-MAV. And the sky belonged to whoever flew it best.

Three black specks against the pale Arctic blue. Fast. Angry. Russian fighters running a silent intercept. pc mav

The Russian banked west and punched his afterburners. Retreat. He was no fraud

He pulled the collective, and his aircraft dropped like a stone toward the ice below. Fifty meters from the frozen sea, he flattened out, skimming the surface. His radar return shrank to less than a seagull’s. The Su-57s screamed overhead, their pilots scanning for a threat that didn't exist. he flattened out