14
“Kamchatka Peninsula,” Mick said as they slid along with their skids a dozen feet over the waves in between a pair of rocky headlands. Patty hadn’t offered him back the controls and he’d been content to be their electronic lookout. Now it was starting to itch at him.
Not a damn thing wrong with how she’s flying, Mick. So let her do her thing. The problem was that there wasn’t much wrong with her at all that he could see. He had her up on a kind of pedestal at the moment and knew it, but he wasn’t finding any easy way to knock her back off it either.
“Looks a hell of a lot like everyplace else we’ve been in the last few days.”
Mick blinked to refocus his vision beyond his visor rather than onto the images and overlaid tactical display projected on the inside. He didn’t see a thing…
