The co-pilot's body slumped to the side, a dent in his skull revealing brain tissue, and a large hole had been pierced through the glass next to him.
"Get him out of the way, sit down!"
Antonov saw Song Heping and shouted, "Quickly! I need someone to help me land!"
Land?!
Song Heping instinctively glanced out the window.
Darkness.
Not even the lights of ships were visible.
That's the sea.
Landing here?
But time didn't allow for more thought; he had to reach out and undo the co-pilot's safety belt, dragging him out and dumping him on the floor.
Antonov saw him easily drag away the nearly two hundred-pound co-pilot and was momentarily surprised.
Song Heping, having seen many bloody scenes, showed no emotion as he directly sat in the left seat soaked with the co-pilot's blood and brain matter, quickly fastening the safety belt.
The fierce wind poured in through the broken glass, numbing Song Heping's scalp with cold, prompting him to quickly cover his head with a sand scarf.
