[b][i]Mykhailo Martinez[/i][/b]

The enemy was caught with their pants down; none of their aircraft rose to meet them, thus Mykhailo's dreams of Ace-hood today were dashed. [i]Oh, well.[/i]

He cleared his mind; this just meant easy prey. 

Flak and missiles were spat at him, but Mykhailo flew as one freed from worry and fear, dancing past the amateurish spray of wasted ordnance. His Plane's rotary gun strafed back at one of the trucks, hopefully perforating the technical and rendering it nonviable as an Anti-Air platform. The game was on; he was a cat playing with its food, whittling down the mice and causing them to die a death of a thousand cuts as he darted toward one of their crude fixed batteries, and brought it down with a rocket from one of his rocket pods,  barely dodging the riposte of two other trucks, which he turned around to strafe once more.

One was downed, the other fled along with its men, but Linosa's defenses continued to defy Mykhailo; this time, they sent missiles and rockets, forcing him to fly away to try and shake them off. Guess it was time to let the others have their turn.

Two trucks and one fixed position down, Mykhailo knew he should do more. Circling back towards the enemy ships, he strafed one of the boats and hit the stern; hopefully, it blasted a hole in the engines, too.

Disappointing. Was treachery all the foe had to offer? Were they betting all on that? Tch!

[@Damo021][@Kensai][@Smike][@Rhona W][@Finetales][@AvaP]