CHAPTER 98
Lieutenant Bobby Stenman cursed as the helicopter crashed in beside them. Kid could barely do an auto-rotate, clearly never done one for real. Another hundred feet up and he’d be dead instead of hunched in the seat of the ruined chopper, blood dribbling from his nose. That was one whirlybird that wouldn’t be leaving under its own power. He’d bet the other ship hadn’t gone down any softer.
A third helicopter slid over the roof of the house. Different, half as loud as the tourist machines. He hadn’t even noticed it above the noise of the Bell LongRangers.
It was also smaller, leaner, and much meaner looking.
A mini-g*n stuck out of the lower portion of the nose and was aimed right at his chest.
Smart pilot. Could tell who was in charge even if he was crouched in the bushes.
