CHAPTER 87
“What’s this?”
First Lieutenant Bobby Stenman was praying this s**t wasn’t for real. Some joke spun by a higher-up just to mess with him. Military humor showed its ugly head in the strangest of ways sometimes.
“They’re called helicopters, you i***t, now get your men saddled up.”
Stenman looked at them. He knew his men, in loose array behind him, were making the same unhappy assessment.
A pair of Bell LongRangers were parked on the tarmac. The pilots were lounging against the nose of the farther craft sipping coffee from white paper cups. Their flight suits matched their aircraft.
The craft were white. Bright, glow-in-the-dark white. With a rainbow spiral that started small at the rear tail of the aircraft, swooped under the belly and exploded around the main rotor housing
