I knew Tiny wasn't too pleased with me, because, after he took off his already soaked suite coat, he stared at me the whole time he was wiping up the rest of my mess from inside the helicopter.
With his coat no less.
Since neither of us had time to put on a headset yet, the pilot turns to yell, at the top of his lungs, "You better strap in, in a hurry. It looks like two, military grade, helicopters are moving up fast behind us."
I look to Tiny and say, "You don't think they are going to shoot us down, do you?"
He gave me that look, that people used give to each other, when someone said something stupid.
The look made famous by the rock group Smash Mouth.
Yes, I wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed at that moment and I did have that big "L" on my forehead. Metaphorically.
We both got up and sat on the rear seats facing the front window and the pilot's back. After I finally got strapped in and put a helmet on, which had the headset already attached to it, I once again asked Tiny, "Do you think they will fire on us?"
I turned my head to look his way and got a face full of a saturated suite coat, full of my spit, for my efforts and my question.
I garb it, saying "ew," and threw it on the floor next to his feet.
It didn't smell that good.
Over my headset I hear him say, "Try to think for a moment. They already know that Ponleak no longer has the amulet. They know you do. They would have figured out, almost immediately, that he is a decoy so we can escape. They want the amulet. Shooting us down might damage it."
"Wow," I said. "That's a load off my mind."
Tiny shakes his head and says, "Those military helicopters are going to follow us until we land somewhere. What's going to stop them from shooting you when we get on the ground, so they can take the amulet off your dead body."
Looking anxious again, I say, "Because they might accidentally hit the amulet?"
"Not if they shoot you in the head." A smiling Tiny says to me.
I started thinking to myself. Why me? Why me?
I wanted to scream it out loud.
"Look straight ahead, keeping your eyes forward." Tiny starts to tell me. "Keep looking out the Cockpit's window, far off in the distance."
I was about to ask why, when, all of a sudden, my head and body were plastered against my seat. Whatever kind of rockets that were attached to this copter, must have just kicked into overdrive.
Being a civilian, I never knew that the technology of these birds had advanced to this point. It felt, to me that we were pulling 9 Gs. That was my uneducated guess anyways.
The minute I tried to look anywhere but straight ahead, I could feel my stomach preparing a succession of dry heaves in the back of my throat.
The pilot banked the craft sharply to the right. Going between a line of trees, stationed on either side of a fire-lane dirt road.
We flew just a few feet above the ground.
He never missed a beat. The road turned left, he turned the craft left. The road elevation changed. The pilot moved up and down, evenly with the road's different levels of height.
Up and down, right and left. Outpacing and outmaneuvering the two military helicopters.
I was really happy that I had nothing left in my system. To spit up I mean. But my body had other ideas. It kept coming up with few dry heaves every time the lump in my stomach decided to roll over and make itself known. Not to mention how dizzy I was becoming.
The fire lane started to rise alongside a steep hill and the helicopter never slowed down for one second. Nor did it stray higher off the ground then a few feet.
Once we reached and crossed over the crest of the hill, we took a quick nosedive until we were above a body of water.
The pilot straightened out the machine right before we submerged.
We were skiing across a reservoir. At 9 Gs. With the bottom two rails of the copter making wakes across the water.
By this time, I was just becoming used to my upset stomach, my aching muscles from holding on so tight, and the dizziness from all the sharp turns the helicopter was taking, when I saw, in the front of the cockpit, a very bright red light starting to flash on and off. Not only that, a loud horn blasted in an opposite synchronization of the flash.
Even I could tell it was some kind of warning.
"What's happening?" I asked, in my own confused imitable way.
"I guess I was wrong." Tiny said, matter-of-factly. "I guess they will chance damaging the amulet."
"What?"
I couldn't think of anything else to ask.
Then Tiny tells me. "One of the helicopters following us, just fired a heat seeking missile."
To Be Continued.....
Next Week.
This is,
Getting Dizzy From Excitement,
Jim Hauenstein,
And,
“The moral high ground is a lovely place. It won’t stop a missile, though.”
- James S.A. Corey, -
- James S.A. Corey, -
That is my story and I am sticking to it!
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