216: Chapter 216 Japanese Pilots
"Beep—beep—beep—" When the alarm blared, Li Li had just draped his floral shirt over the back of the chair.
He still held a towel in his hand, not yet having had time to wring out the cold water.
Outside the door, chaos had already erupted.
Boots stomped down the hallway; a lieutenant ran by shouting, "Attention all personnel! The base is at Defcon 1!"
"Repeat! Defcon 1!"
Li Li pulled the door open and leaned against the frame, watching for two seconds.
It wasn't a drill.
In a place like Kadena, if it were really a drill, the procedure wouldn't be this chaotic.
Just yesterday, they were making him practice the "Li Li-style smile" in front of the mirror, and today it's straight to Defcon 1. That's quite a jump.
His phone buzzed.
An encrypted message from Mina: "The President arrives at Kadena tomorrow afternoon."
Li Li closed the door and locked it.
President Trump is coming?
Snowden is at Kadena.
The Eastern Fleet is hovering in the open sea.
The Hong Kong incident just exploded.
For the US President to fly to Kadena at a time like this—it's not an inspection; it's putting all the powder kegs on one table.
He is Zhang Nan.
A spy who was halfway through plastic surgery when he was sent by the Americans to Kadena, specifically to learn "how to become Li Li."
The door was knocked on again.
Three times.
The voice of a second lieutenant came from outside:
"Mr. Zhang Nan, Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds wants you at the C-Building conference room within fifteen minutes."
"Coming."
Li Li put the floral shirt back on and buttoned it all the way to the top.
Whenever Zhang Nan got nervous, he liked to tighten his collar.
He couldn't afford to miss the details.
— —
There were already seven or eight people sitting in the C-Building conference room.
Technical officers, security heads, and two Caucasians in plain clothes.
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds stood in front of the projection screen, holding a laser pointer.
After Li Li entered the room, it went quiet for a moment.
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds didn't exchange pleasantries.
"Sit."
Li Li sat in the back row and tucked his right hand into his pants pocket.
The Zhang Nan-style sitting posture.
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds clicked on the projection.
"Air Force One is expected to land at Kadena at 2:40 PM tomorrow."
"The President's stay will not exceed three hours."
The base floor plan appeared on the screen.
Red zones lit up one after another.
"The inspection route is tentatively set for the tarmac, the main building command center, and the fifth-generation fighter maintenance area."
The laser dot stopped near Hangar 1.
"The F-22 and F-35 maintenance areas are the priority."
A colonel spoke up:
"Status of the weapon systems?"
"All dismantled, fitted with dummy missiles." Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds replied quickly.
"Maintenance procedures must be running. The President needs to see the base in a combat-ready state, but there cannot be any accidents."
Li Li kept his head down, fingers tapping lightly under the table.
From the tarmac to the main building is a four-minute walk.
It passes through the parking area.
If the route isn't changed, the President will be exposed in an open area for at least ninety seconds.
Ninety seconds—enough for many things to happen.
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds turned to the next page.
"There is one more temporary arrangement."
The conference room went quiet.
"When the President arrives, he will meet with some special project personnel." After he finished, he turned to Li Li.
"Including trainees of the Alpha-7 Behavioral Simulation Project."
"Mr. Zhang Nan, that is, you."
Li Li looked up.
"Meet me?"
"The President specifically asked to see the project's progress."
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds pushed a form over.
"Assemble at the tarmac at 2:00 PM tomorrow. After the President deplanes, he will take one to two minutes to see you."
Li Li picked up the form.
Project Name.
Training Stage.
Current Assessment.
Meeting Duration: One to two minutes.
Long enough for the President to see his face clearly, and long enough for those around the President to hear his speech habits.
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds continued:
"You just need to demonstrate the training results."
Li Li raised his hand and touched his collar.
"How exactly should I demonstrate?"
"The President might ask you for your understanding of the Li Li template."
Li Li paused for half a second.
Asking him to understand Li Li.
Logically speaking, this was highly insulting.
He was sitting right here, being asked to report to the US President on whether he had successfully learned to be himself.
The original endorsing a pirated project.
Kadena was certainly full of talent.
Yet, Li Li's face showed only confusion.
"Then how should I answer?"
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds flipped through the documents.
"According to our analysis, Li Li possesses several core characteristics."
"Pragmatic, calm, quick to react on the spot, and has a dry sense of humor."
"You can cite variety show cases."
Li Li nodded.
"For example?"
"The fire scene command."
"And his calm demeanor when facing threats."
Li Li almost couldn't hold it in.
Chatting about architectural structures while facing an AK, analyzing the endocrine system when Jiang Rumu confessed—these people had actually managed to summarize something.
"Fine." He put the form back on the table.
"Confident, positive, give examples."
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds lowered his voice:
"Also, the project must make the President feel it's worth continued investment."
This sentence was the point.
It wasn't a meeting.
It was a product inspection.
Li Li leaned back in his chair.
"Then I'll try my best not to embarrass you all."
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds looked at him for two seconds.
"Not try."
"Tomorrow, you cannot make any mistakes."
— —
The third floor of the main building.
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds stood by the window, a row of fighter jets parked outside.
An adjutant knocked and entered.
"Lieutenant Colonel, new orders from General John Browning."
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds took the tablet.
The email was from John Browning.
The content was very short.
"During the President's inspection, arrange a small air display. Three F-22 formations, three F-35 formations, three F-18 formations. A total of twenty-seven pilots. It must reflect a diverse composition."
After reading, Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds put the tablet on the table.
Diverse composition.
He opened the drawer and pulled out the pilot list.
The Caucasian males, fourteen.
The Caucasian females, three.
Black males, four.
Black females, two.
Japanese female, one.
Openly gay males, two.
Openly gay female, one.
Asian male, zero.
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds stared at the last column, tapping his fingers on the desk twice.
Among the permanent pilots at Kadena, Asian males were already few.
Now that the President is coming, the list cannot be empty.
He picked up the internal phone.
"Connect to the flight dispatch center."
Three minutes later, the head of dispatch arrived at the office.
"Lieutenant Colonel."
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds turned the list over.
"I need one Asian male pilot. To participate in the display formation tomorrow."
The person in charge wiped his forehead.
"There isn't one on the permanent list."
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds didn't speak.
The person in charge quickly added:
"However, there is a Japanese male pilot who just transferred from Misawa Base last week and is currently doing F-35 adaptation training."
"Name."
"Yamada Ichiro, Lieutenant. Twenty-eight years old, eight hundred flight hours, A-grade technical assessment."
The person in charge pulled up the file.
On the screen was an ID photo.
Thin, tall, with no expression on his face.
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds flipped to the personal evaluation.
Reclusive.
Poor communication skills.
Tense relationship with colleagues at his previous unit.
"Why transfer to Kadena?"
"Misawa didn't write the specific reason, only that his F-35 conversion scores were the highest in his cohort."
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds was silent for a few seconds.
Being reclusive isn't good.
Poor communication skills aren't good either.
But on tomorrow's list, an Asian male is needed.
And he only has Yamada Ichiro.
Anyway, once the helmet and flight goggles are on, you can't really see his expression.
"Notify him."
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds closed the file.
"Report to Hangar 1 at 10:00 AM tomorrow. Participate in the flight display."
The person in charge nodded.
"Who is he paired with?"
"That Japanese female pilot, Miyuki."
"They share a language."
The person in charge was about to leave, but stopped.
"Lieutenant Colonel, there's one more situation."
"Speak."
"Yamada almost never speaks during training. He rarely responds on the radio either. When instructors call him, he usually only uses physical gestures to respond."
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds looked up.
"Are there any issues with his flight data?"
"No, the data is very good, he occasionally likes to show off."
"That's enough."
Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds handed the tablet back.
"Tell him that tomorrow's performance will determine whether he can fly in the future."
— —
The fourth floor of the dormitory building, the easternmost room.
Yamada Ichiro sat on the edge of the bed, wiping his flight gloves.
There were no photos or decorations in the room.
A bed, a desk, a wardrobe.
The tactical backpack on the table was open, and everything inside was arranged very neatly.
A knock sounded outside the door.
Three short, one long.
Yamada didn't move.
The knocking came again.
Still three short, one long.
He put down his gloves and went to open the door.
The head of dispatch stood outside.
"Lieutenant Yamada, you have a new mission."
"Tomorrow afternoon, you will participate in the President's inspection flight display."
"You are paired with Lieutenant Miyuki."
Yamada stood inside the door, not responding.
The person in charge was already used to it and continued to explain:
"The subject is a low-altitude flyby, altitude 300 meters, speed 600 kilometers per hour."
"Assemble at Hangar 1 at 10:00 AM, at least two simulated training sessions."
Yamada blinked.
The person in charge handed out a document.
"Sign."
Yamada took the mission confirmation form, scanned the contents, and wrote his name in the bottom right corner.
The handwriting was neat.
No hesitation.
The person in charge took back the document.
"Any questions?"
Yamada closed the door.
The person in charge stood outside the door, sighed, turned around, and left.
The sound of footsteps faded away.
The room became quiet again.
Yamada returned to the bedside and continued wiping his gloves.
He wiped three times.
He was always meticulous in everything he did.