He waited with the sights of his gun on the Apache as it hovered so close.

  It would be a tricky shot and if he missed, the pilot of the gunship would waste no time pouncing on him. The attack helicopters were fast and deadly, and Turner had a feeling he was running low on time.

  The Apache banked slightly to draw on a target and Turner knew he had found the actors. He pulled the trigger.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  Sparks flew from the rear of the helicopter where the tail boom joined the hull. He had to hit the engine or the fuel tanks; the pilot’s floor and back were armored.

  A cloud of smoke belched out of the Apache’s exhaust and immediately grew into a thick jet of black smoke.

  The gun stopped firing and Turner dropped it, then reached for a second assault rifle. Twenty shots? Thirty? Was it enough?