Page 48 of Wild Tempest

They looked normal. Of course, they were red, and he sounded stuffy.

"Can I go back to sleep now? Is that okay with you?"

I laughed. "Get some rest.”

He gave me a mock salute, then rolled over.

I left the compartment and checked on Dale.

"You still alive?" I asked when I opened the hatch.

"I reckon. What's for breakfast?"

"I'll see what I can scrounge up. Might be a minute. Oh, by the way, we ran into Paul. I thought you said he was dead?”

"I never said that."

Dale wasn’t in his right mind either. I wondered if anything he had told us was true.

I stepped into the fresh air on the side deck. The water was calm. It was almost a mirror-like surface. Quite a stark contrast from the night before. As usual, a thick, soupy haze filled the morning air.

I scanned the horizon for the Titan Deep, but didn't see it anywhere.

After breakfast, I would start looking through storerooms for extra batteries, flashlights, and things we could make a raft out of. The wood from the crates might be useful. A couple of pallets strung together, strapped to waterproof containers for buoyancy. We might be able to build something that would give us a fighting chance. But at this point, I had no idea where we were.

Then I heard it. Far in the distance, the sound of salvation. The dull thump of rotor blades approached.

30

An Mi-8 helicopter emerged from the hazy sky. It had a haze gray and navy camo livery. It was a Russian aircraft, but there were no markings on the exterior.

From the port-side deck, I waved, trying to get their attention.

The helicopter circled the boat, doing recon. Cautious optimism washed over me. But that didn't last long.

On the second pass, a guy at the cargo door aimed a PKM machine gun at me.

My eyes rounded at the sight of the weapon.

CHUNKA, CHUNKA, CHUNKA!

The machine gun spit brass, and copper minions of death rocketed through the air.

Tempest and I darted back into the superstructure as 7.62mm rounds streaked toward us. They pelted the bulkhead, popping and pinging off the metal.

It became clear this wasn't a rescue mission.

“Lock yourself in the stateroom and don’t come out,” I said to Tempest, my heart pounding.

She nodded and scampered away.

The helicopter circled around again, then hovered over the forward helipad.

I moved back to the hatch, pulled it open, and angled my rifle outside. I advanced forward up the side deck, hugging the superstructure.

A tactical team dressed in black fast-roped to the deck.

During that brief moment, the helicopter was stuck in position.