He waited with the sights of his gun on the Apache as it hovered so close.

It would be a tricky shot and if he missed, the pilot of the gunship would waste no time pouncing on him. The attack helicopters were fast and deadly, and Turner had a feeling he was running low on time.

The Apache banked slightly to draw on a target and Turner knew he had found the actors. He pulled the trigger.

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Sparks flew from the rear of the helicopter where the tail boom joined the hull. He had to hit the engine or the fuel tanks; the pilot’s floor and back were armored.

A cloud of smoke belched out of the Apache’s exhaust and immediately grew into a thick jet of black smoke.

The gun stopped firing and Turner dropped it, then reached for a second assault rifle. Twenty shots? Thirty? Was it enough?