18
Even knowing what was coming hadn’t fully prepared Rosa Cruz for the sudden pitch change when Gutz took out the observer plane. It slammed her against her safety harness so hard that it knocked the breath out of her.
For half a second she froze in fear.
No.
Her newly discovered fetus wasn’t at risk. Still too small to be harmed, even by such a hit. Her PSR, Pink Stick Revelation, was less than forty-eight hours old. No one knew.
Then the Ghostrider pitched nose down and entered a hard spiral.
At the controls for the M102 Howitzer, Pierre yelped.
“We’re going down?” He cried out sharply enough that her eardrum hurt.
“Big, brave master sergeants with over a dozen years in the service are not supposed to squeal like little schoolgirls.” She knew it was a faked emergency and couldn’
