Chapter Twelve
The sounds of the rotors settled in her bones. Nothing made Cassie feel freer, more focused, more herself, than when she was on a mission.
A flash of light went off in her peripheral, followed by a sickening metal crunch. Alarm horns sounded, Master Caution Light, On. No.1 Engine Light, On. Low Rotor RPM Audio Warning blared as the bird hung suspended for a perfect moment, then began to plummet like a rock. She was ready for this. She’d practiced autorotation until they were second nature. But the controls were jammed, and there was blood on the windshield, and she couldn’t get a visual. “Murph, I’m stuck. Jesus, Murph, you have to–” She glanced over to see her co-pilot slumped unnaturally over the cyclic.
What in the hell? Was she suddenly inside a Pulp Fiction scene?
“
