Chapter Three
Razor blinked several times in an effort to clear his vision. He remained perfectly still as he ran an assessment over his body. Every part of him felt bruised and beaten. He ignored the throbbing in an effort to assess what was minor damage and what could be life-threatening. A low curse echoed through the cockpit when he realized that he was still face down. The only thing holding him in place was the seat harness. There was nothing else between him and the ground far below. The windshield of the helicopter was missing on his side.
He slowly raised his hand to wipe at the blood that kept blurring his vision. A deep cut ran just above his right brow. His arms were fine, but excruciating pain in his left leg hazed his vision when he tried to move it.
Drawing in a deep brea
