Target of Mine
excerpt
Rain sucked.
Philippine September-monsoon rain really sucked.
In a full flightsuit and helmet it was thick, hot, and disgustingly sweaty.
Worse, it was creating mayhem with their midnight attack plan.
Drake Roman hung on to his M134 Minigun with both hands as the Night Stalkers’ DAP Hawk helicopter Beatrix banked hard to avoid a hundred meters of island that came out of nowhere. The tactical readouts were showing nothing but a wall of water thick enough to block most radar signals, and the infrared night vision was totally useless because everything was the same temperature—wet.
His flight harness cut into his shoulders as he leaned against the turn. Levering himself forward, Drake stuck his head out the window, trying to see ahead through the unlit darkness.
