David Golemon - Primeval

"We're going to have to set this thing down before I kill all of us," he said looking straight ahead.

"We may as well," Sarah said as she held on tight to the side window frame as the large helicopter swung sharply to the right, sliding dangerously close to the trees lining the river. "We'll never see either camp from this low, anyway."

"Okay, see if we can find a clearing, one not too far from the river, I don't want to slam these rotors into the top of any trees. Maybe if we—"

At that moment a streak of fire passed by three feet in front of the windscreen. Ryan, his reactions a split second too late threw the stick to the right, dipping the rotors only fifty feet from the now raging Stikine.

"Jesus, was that a missile?" Sarah shouted.

"I saw when it was fired at us," Marla said as she suddenly appeared between Ryan and Sarah. "The Russian camp must be about a thousand yards ahead!"

"Get back to your seat and strap in," Ryan shouted as he brought the Sikorsky back up into the air. The wipers had a hard time keeping up with the battering rain slamming into the speeding helicopter.

"Here comes another one!" Marla shouted from her seat in the back.

Ryan couldn't see in what direction he should turn — so he quickly took a chance and headed north and climbed. The steepness of the ascent pressed Sarah into her seat and that was when she started praying. Just as Ryan thought maybe they had evaded the missile, the warhead exploded just outside of the rear rotor. Two of the four blades were sheared away in a split second and Ryan felt the Sikorsky veer sharply to the left. He tried to compensate by slamming the control stick as far right as possible while at the same time slamming his wounded leg onto the right pedal.

"That's it, kids, we heading down," he called out just as the Sikorsky started to spin, heading for the trees far below.

As a large streak of lightning flashed across the forest, it illuminated the death plunge of Ryan, Sarah, and Marla as they fell from the sky north of the Stikine.

Everett stamped his feet, willing the missile to miss the poor bastards flying into the makeshift ambush. As the flare of the missile exhaust lit up the camp and the driving rain pummeling it, they watched as the heat-seeking missile streaked toward the shiny new helicopter.

Collins stepped in front of the others and, like Carl, willed the missile to miss. He knew that the projectile was a heat seeker, and he also knew that it would have a hard time locking onto to the exhaust because of the cold rain. The mistake for the Russians was not having radar-guided stingers. As he watched, his eyes never left the exhaust trail of the small warhead.

"Damn, he doesn't even see it!" Collins shouted.

With the luck of a drunken sailor, Ryan caught a break as a strong gust of wind, reaching sixty miles an hour, pushed the missile far ahead of its target, and as luck would also have it, it didn't lock onto the heated engine at all. The missile streaked by the front nose of the Sikorsky, missing it by mere feet.

"Is that your Mr. Ryan?" Henri asked.

"It was," Mendenhall said as he joined the others.

"Turn away, Ryan, turn away," Jack hissed as his eyes went to the fire team as they brought out a fresh weapon from an elongated box.

"He's too close, they won't miss this time," Everett said as he too turned toward the shooters.

Collins and Everett had the same thought at exactly the same time. They both sprinted for the team just now bringing the helicopter into their sights. With hands still tied behind them, they didn't stand a chance in hitting the shooters in time. What they did do was make the Russian aiming the weapon flinch when he heard his comrades shouting a warning. The man assisting the shooter turned and was only able to tackle Collins, but Everett continued on. Several shots rang out through the noise of the storm, but all the bullets missed the large SEAL as he leaped. Just before his shoulder connected solidly with the shooter, the missile left the tube. Carl slammed into the man and they rolled over into the mud.

Alexander, Sagli, and Deonovich ran out into the rain. Deonovich threw himself onto Everett and brought the brief struggle to a stop, and Alexander ran to Jack and gave the colonel a sharp kick into his kidneys. He drew back to kick again, but was stopped by the brief flash of an explosion as the missile hit the Sikorsky at the very tip of the tail boom.

"Damn you, Jack, you're going to force me to kill every one of you. Stop interfering!" Alexander screamed, water and spittle running down his chin.

Deonovich had stood and was also using his boots to explain to Everett the price of interference. The captain was trying his best to roll away from the brutal kicks, but he just couldn't in the deepening mud.

Mendenhall and even Farbeaux started forward to assist Everett, but were stopped cold by four men who quickly showed them the price of foolishness. Will was struck in the stomach and Farbeaux in the back by butts of automatic weapons. They both went down into the mud to join Jack and Everett.

Sagli reached Deonovich before he could deliver his fifth kick into the back and stomach of Everett. He reached both arms around the larger man and held him in place. Deonovich was about to reach back and pull his smaller partner off when the sound from the sky stilled him.

As all looked skyward, the gleaming Sikorsky streaked overhead, barely missing the tree line at the back of the camp. Most of the men ducked and hit the ground, fearing an explosion when the Sikorsky hit. However, the pilot fought the torque created by the sheared-off tail rotors and managed to get the huge aircraft to hop over the initial assault of large pines until he plunged deeper into the woods. Expecting the giant aircraft to strike the trees at any moment, the chaotic assault on the Americans ceased as all eyes watched through the storm the death plunge of the foolish people who tried to come upriver at night and in a powerful storm.

"Your people brought this on themselves, Jack."

Collins rolled over and looked with killing eyes at his old friend. Alexander saw the look just as they all heard the Sikorsky slam into the forest no more than half a mile away.

"Do what's asked of you, Colonel, and those may be the last people you lose."

Collins didn't say anything, his eyes just moved away from Alexander to the smoke and flames now rising up through the falling rain.

Jack didn't know exactly who had been on the helicopter, but knew anyone who was, was now burning inside the crumpled hulk.

As Ryan fought the helicopter for control, the spin increased as the failed tail rotor could not stop the torque placed on the airframe as the four bladed main rotors turned the craft to the right at fantastic speed. Jason gritted his teeth to the point of shearing them off as he saw the trees coming at them in a spiraling nightmare. Beside him, Sarah was being pressed to the side window from the fantastic g-forces being placed on the Sikorsky. She could only close her eyes as the spin increased and pray.

In the passenger compartment, Marla hadn't had time to fasten the seatbelt upon returning. She was thrown hard against the opposite row of seats and was pinned there as the helicopter started settling for the trees.

The S-76 clipped the first tree, sending a spray of water outward and then Ryan felt the fuselage strike, bounce, and then hit again. The second time the main rotors caught in the treetops, sheering them away from the transmission hub. The spin stopped suddenly as the tail boom struck the trees in earnest, shearing it away in a microsecond. Air, water, and the smell of fuel coursed through the doomed Sikorsky as Ryan finally gave up and threw his arms over his face. Sarah bent at the waist as soon as the centrifugal force ceased, holding her against the bulkhead. She bent as low as her harness would allow. The move was just in time as a fifteen-foot piece of the main rotor slammed into the windscreen, passing between Jason and Sarah, and exiting the space where the tail boom had been seconds before.