Lost Empire (Fargo Adventures 2)

“That’s a tad ominous,” Remi said with a tight grin.

“Just a tad,” Sam agreed. “Grab ahold of something. It’s going to get bumpy.”

He lifted the collective and dropped the nose, pushing the helicopter past eighty knots. Through the windshield he saw the shoals slip beneath the fuselage, then the beach, then the black-green of the forest. He reached forward and flipped off the navigation strobes.

“There’s a big sandbar ahead on the riverbank,” he called. “Think you can manage the bell?”

“Define ‘manage’?”

“Shove it out the door.”

“That, I can do. What’s the plan?”

“I hover. You, the guns, our packs, and the bell get off on the sandbank.”

“And you?”

“I’m going to put down in the river.”

“What? No, Sam—”

“You said it yourself: They’re coming after us. If we can ditch this thing, they’ll have nowhere to start looking.”

“Can you do it?”

“If I can get the rotors shut down quickly enough.”

“More ifs,” Remi replied. “I’m beginning to hate ifs.”

“This’ll be the last one for a while.”

“Uh-huh. I’ve heard that before.”

“When you’re on the ground, find the thickest tree trunk around and get behind it. If the rotors don’t spool down enough before she flips over, they’ll tear free and turn into shrapnel.”

“Flip over? What do you mean—”

“Helicopters are top-heavy. As soon as she touches the water she’s going to roll.”

“I don’t like this—”

“The sandbar’s coming up. Get ready!”

“You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“I know.”

Remi mumbled a half curse under her breath, then turned around and released the tie-down ratchets around the crate. She crab-walked around it, braced her back against the bulkhead and her legs against the crate, and shoved it across the deck until it bumped up against the door.

“Ready,” she called.

Sam bled off airspeed and altitude until they were thirty feet off the sandbar and crawling ahead at fifteen knots. The helicopter was wobbling now; the earlier thump-bang had settled into an ominous three-second cycle that shook the fuselage from stem to stern.

“It’s getting worse,” Remi said.

“We’re almost there.”

Sam eased the helicopter downward a foot at a time.