52, Acrobatics

“Sweet Jesus!  I apologize for every sin I’ve ever committed!”  The yells of Agent Death were drowned out by the deafening sound of twin helicopter engines roaring at full throttle.  She was strapped tightly into the copilot seat of a modified Russian Kamov KA-60 chopper that was jerking left and right through the cold midnight air like a runaway rollercoaster about to go off the tracks at any moment.  “Forgive me, Lord!  Forgive me!”  

Pilot Porter was grinning with evil glee as she slammed on the throttle.  The body of the chopper groaned as the g-forces pushed its engineering to the absolute limit.  The hardened steel chassis of the helicopter begrudgingly obeyed her every command as the craft twisted and turned through the night sky.  Porter felt the thrill of a dopamine rush similar to a thousand orgasms, as if she were high on the equivalent of every drug ever known to man all at the same time.

“Save me, Jesus!”  Agent Death pleaded with the universe.  She had never been religious and had no idea how to call out to a higher power for mercy.  “I’ll pray to Mecca!  I’ll sacrifice virgins to a volcano!  Just get me out of this alive!”  Even though she was in a state of deep fear, she didn’t scream.  She pleaded and bargained with no particular God or gods.  There was no past and the future didn’t exist.  All that existed was fear and bargaining.

In the pilot seat, Porter felt the opposite of fear.  She felt pure peace with powerful confidence as the helicopter danced through the night.  Each second was perceived like a minute, like time was almost standing still.  Her reflexes moved at the speed of electricity to control the helicopter to do her bidding.  It swooped to just above the tree level and jerked heavily upward as Porter yanked on the cyclic stick.  Her feet and hands pulled and pushed in perfect harmony with the anti torque pedals as the powerful helicopter flew through the air like a bird doing aerial acrobatics.  Porter’s supernatural ability to control the incredible flying machine would’ve been on full display if it were day, but the maneuvers were hidden from sight since the pitch black night concealed the master class airshow.

“Porter!” Death yelled, but to no avail.  “Fucking stop this shit!”  Her anger was short lived as it turned back to fear.

Pilot Porter yanked hard on the controls and the chopper flew sideways suddenly.  Death watched a rocket fly by the machine and smash into the ground a thousand yards in front of them with a fiery explosion.  Again, Death yelled to no one listening.  “Fuuuuhhhhhck!”

Porter looked over and saw Death holding onto her chest straps with white knuckles.  She’d closed her eyes and it looked like she was muttering a prayer under her breath.  Porter reached out and flicked a switch on the control panel that opened a comm link between their aviator helmets.  “Death, don’t be scared!  This is fun!”

Agent Death opened her eyes and looked at Porter with the rage of a thousand suns.  “Fun?!”  She yelled.  She opened her mouth to start yelling at her pilot friend but the helicopter yanked to the other side as another rocket went whizzing by them.  In the blink of an eye, Death could see the missile scream by her copilot door window and miss them by only a few inches.  The exhaust and flames temporarily blinded her, but her confusion was replaced by adrenaline from fear as the helicopter jerked upwards at a mind blowing speed while an explosion illuminated the ground below them.

Porter talked as calmly as if they were having tea on a pleasant afternoon.  “Watch this!”  The helicopter spun around and tilted forward.  The sensation of gravity pulling on Death’s body made it feel like she was going to get pulled out of the machine, but the safety straps across her chest kept her tightly bound to her seat.  “We’ll see them…” Porter paused for a quick second, then excitedly blurted, “now!”

The blinking lights of a Russian military KA-52 attack helicopter affectionately known as an Alligator seemed close enough to reach out and touch in the pitch black night as it now flew underneath them.  Porter had done a flip over it as it was chasing her.  

Agent Death hadn’t seen anything in the pitch black except for the rockets barely missing their chopper, even with the night vision settings on her helmet dialed in.  The flight had been too haphazard for her to get her bearings on gravity.  “Porter!” Death yelled.  

“We’re gonna stay behind them!  I wanna try something!” Porter responded.  Their nimble transport chopper dropped in behind the Alligator and crept up less than ten feet away from it’s tail.  The turbulent air created by two helicopters flying so close together made their flying very unstable, but Porter had the reflexes of a computer and could adjust to each wave of bumpiness at laser fast speed.

It was obvious that the Alligator pilot couldn’t handle the turbulent air and was being forced downward by the instability created by their close proximity.  The sound of both machines was absolutely deafening.  Agent Death had lost her breath and was starting to black out when the sound of Porter speaking into her helmet headphones brought her back to the moment.  “I’m gonna ground him.  Watch this!”

Porter’s body undulated in the pilot seat as if she were some sort of wave form but the helicopter responded smoothly to her movements.  It flew above the Alligator, then behind it, then above it again, as if dashing in and out over and over like a fighter in a boxing match that might stick their head out, then pull back right when their opponent might take a swing.  The attack chopper would drop several feet, then stabilize, then drop several more feet, then stabilize.

Rinse, lather, repeat, Porter was above the other chopper, then behind them, repeatedly within the space of a second or two, back and forth.  The turbulent air forced the Alligator down at a violent pace unit it’s skids finally smacked uneven ground in a crash landing.  The heavy helicopter lay in an open farm pasture with its blades spinning violently.

Porter squealed with glee.  “Got him!”  She hovered right above the large attack chopper and hovered only a few feet from it’s rotating blades.  She could tell that the pilot below her had to engage an emergency stop system to keep the helicopter from toppling on its side.  Porter wanted to win this encounter, but she didn’t want to hurt anyone while dong it, even if they’d fired live ordnance at her. 

As the Alligator blades started slowing down quickly, Porter lifted her own chopper back into the air about fifteen feet above them and then turned to fly north.  She slammed on the throttle and their modified chopper took off a blinding speed.  “That was fun!” she said to Death.

The chase and dodging had only lasted barely ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Agent Death.  Her nerves were absolutely shot.  She couldn’t process what to say.  She simply stared straight ahead and tried to take deep breaths.

“I’m gonna transmit a fake chopper code to them.”  Porter reached out and clicked a few buttons on the control panel, then hit a green button to broadcast the signal.  “That ought to do it.”  She looked at Death and smiled widely as the chopper flew at break neck speed.  “I transmitted a code to them of a crashed Russian transport helicopter that was shot down by friendly fire in a training exercise a few years back.  That’ll confuse them!”  Her tone was chipper and bright, as if this kind of thing happened all the time.

Her wrist watch lit up with an incoming call from Mikayla Doniak.  She clicked a setting on her watch to connect it with her aviator helmet.  A quick chat assured Doniak that all was well and that they’d fly low, under the radar, until they circled back around to their home base air strip south of Moscow.  Doniak kept it quick and didn’t ask any questions.  She seemed annoyed, but then heard some male voices in the background and knew that Doniak was gonna flirt with the local boys in their radio tower.  They ended their call with the usual good spirited goodbyes, despite the chaotic situation that had just happened.

The two women flew for five minutes and had covered well over ten kilometers when Porter said, “Uh oh.”  Her voice brought agent Death back to the present moment.  Her fear was gone, her nerves were shot, but she didn’t like what she’d heard.

“Uh oh?  What do you mean, uh oh?” Death asked with what little remaining emotional energy she had left.

“All that hard pushing on the throttle burned up a lot of fuel.  We’re low on gas.”  Porter clicked a few buttons on the dashboard and tapped on a few gauges as if they might be lying to her.  “We’re gonna have to put this bird down somewhere.  Dang.  I didn’t see that coming.”

Death didn’t have the emotional energy to process what Porter was saying.  It was as if she were living in a dream state of existence.  “Ok,” was all Death could muster to say.

Before they knew it, Porter was putting the helicopter down in the middle of a forest in what she hoped was a big enough clearing to land.  As the skids hit the ground, the chopper jerked the two women in their seats.  Before they knew it, Porter had powered down the blades and had first unbuckled herself, then unbuckled her copilot.  Death was moving her body on some sort of survival programming because her conscious brain couldn’t process anything in the moment.

The two women sat with their legs leisurely dangling over the ledge of the main sliding cabin door as the blades powered down.  When the engines went quiet, Porter lifted her wristwatch to her face and made a call.  As she heard the transmitter click, she knew she was connected.  Without waiting, she said, “Hey Doc, me and Death are gonna need a ride.  My bird ran out of gas.”

Without skipping a beat, O’Connor said, “I’m already driving north with a small fuel tanker.  I got kicked out of a military base as soon as they sent Portavich to engage with you, so I knew you’d need me to come gas your ass up.”

“You were on a military base?  And who’s Portavich?”

“Portavich is a guy I wanna introduce you to.  Hear me out.  I bumped into my drinking buddy, Connorvich, and he had the clearance to bring me to a military air force installation.  We were hanging out in the radio tower, trying to get Portavich to land so I could try and bring him over to the hotel and introduce you to him.”

“Is that who I think you’re talking about?” Porter asked tepidly.

“That’s the name of the Russian pilot guy that you have a crush on.  Not that you’ve ever needed my help to get laid, but I was gonna be your wingman and get you some ass, Porter.”

Porter’s face went flush with embarrassment, but she held it together.  “He shot a few rockets at me today.  I don’t know if I have a crush on him anymore.”

“Funny, cuz I would’ve guessed something like that might turn you on even more.”  O’Connor laughed at his own joke.

“Yeah, well normally it might!  But he missed.”  Porter paused and could tell O’Connor was confused.  “If he was any good, he’d have shot us down and I wouldn’t be talking to you.  I don’t know why, but the fact that he missed really turns me off.”

“Maybe he missed on purpose?”

Porter considered it.  “Maybe, but I don’t know.  He’s still a good pilot, but I’m better and I grounded his ass without firing back.  Well, I mean, I didn’t have anything to shoot at him, I guess, but I didn’t need anything.”

“You’re a maniac, Porter.”

“That’s what all the boys tell me.”

O’Connor gave a hearty laugh that made Porter feel good.  When he caught his breath, he said, “Doniak called me back and said you were gonna fly north, so that’s the only reason I randomly started driving north.”

“You talked with Mickey?” Porter asked with confusion.

“Yup, twice.  The first time was to find out if you were in the air because their military radio tower saw a radar blip go flying straight up in the air like a rocket.  I called Mickey and asked if it was you on their radar.  She said yes so I gave her a heads up that the military peeps were sending Portavich over to investigate.”

“Ah!  That’s when Mickey called me and tried to get me to fly low, but my radar said an Alligator was headed my way and it was hauling ass.  They can’t fly that fast but I knew it had to be him because he’s good enough to pilot a bird that big to go that fast.  There was no one else it could be.”

“Portavich?”

Porter said the name and it felt good.  “Portavich.”

“Well, they kicked me out of the radio tower right away but Connorvich snuck me over to their refill station to borrow a fuel tanker.  I promised him I’d bring it back and I don’t break my promises, you know this.”

“And you’re calling me a maniac?  Takes one to know one, Doc.”

“Look, Connorvich got me out of there, so that’s when I called Mickey again and she reiterated that she’s gonna kill me.  Since my time left on earth is short, I might as well gas your ass up and get you back in the air before Mickey finds me to finish me off.”

Porter found herself laughing.  Without thinking, she said, “I love you.”  It was the first time Porter had ever said those words to anyone on her team.  She didn’t love O’Connor in a romantic sense, but she certainly loved him as family.

“I love you too, but you’re gonna have to get me pretty drunk before I’ll make a move on you.  I’m scared shitless of you, Porter,” O’Connor joked.  “Hell, I’m scared of all the crazy bitches on this team.”  His dumb humor worked and made Porter blurt out laughing even more.  “Click your watch coordinates to me and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Roger,” Porter replied.  

She terminated the call, then clicked her screen in the appropriate sequence to transmit their location.  Less than a minute later, O’Connor sent a text reply to let her know that he’d received the info and that the fuel truck was a little over an hour away.

Death seemed to snap out of her hypnosis.  She saw her legs dangling off the edge of a helicopter cabin and looked around.  The night was pitch black and she couldn’t see anything.  “Porter,” she asked out of the blue, “What’s going on?  Where are we?”

“We’re about an hour north of Moscow according to Doc.”

“Wait, how does Doc know where we are?”

“I just chatted with him on my comm watch.  Are you doing ok?” Porter asked with genuine concern.

“I don’t know how I feel, to be honest.”  In the past, Agent Death had endured many stressful situations like shootouts, collapsing buildings, and explosions.  She’d jumped out of planes at eighty thousand feet many times and landed straight into war zones, but today’s sensation of fear was something different.  She’d never been afraid to die, ever, until today.  “I’m spent.”

The pilot laughed her usual easy laugh.  Normally that would put anyone around her into good spirits, but Death was too fried.  “I’m sorry you had to be strapped into my bird when that went down.  You came here with our friends to try and help me, then I did this to you.  I don’t know how to make this right by you, Death.”

Agent Death had no words but managed to mutter, “um… ok.”

Porter reached down and grabbed the hand of her friend.  She put Death’s hand on her chest.  Death could feel that Porter’s skin was warm and her pulse was calm.  “From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry.  You didn’t deserve that.  I was selfish and I really screwed up.  I was thinking only of myself.”  She shook her head and said, “I wasn’t actually thinking at all.”

Death could tell that Porter was being sincere.  Her thoughts began to return.  “Um, wow, ok, yeah.”  Death had been angry and scared, but now all she felt was empathy.  Her friend Porter was a deeply flawed woman who just happened to be the greatest pilot that humanity would ever know.  “I, um,” Death stumbled over her own words.  She took a deep breath and spoke with a weak voice.  “I accept your apology.”

“Thank you, Death.  Your friendship means the world to me.”  She let go of Death’s hand and started to ramble.  “I don’t know why I get that way.  What is it about men that makes me want to compete so much?  I just want to beat them at everything, you know?”

Death could feel the warmth returning to her body as her emotions started to flow and her head was coming back online.  “I understand.  It just gets old that women are always underestimated.  For those of us who are great, I mean, sure, we can use that in the element of surprise.  But you?  You’re…” Death struggled to find the words.  “You’re just…”  Death really searched for what she was trying to say but all that came out was, “You’re something else.”

Porter nodded.  “I know,” she said with calm acceptance.  “I’ve always been different.  I can fly, and I’ve always prided myself on being a good team player.”  She exhaled a deep sigh and a tear fell down her cheek.  “It’s just,” she started to get choked up, “I know I’m better at flying than anyone I’ve ever met, but I’m still human, you know?”  She wiped her eyes.  “I have high expectations of myself but I’m just as selfish and prideful as the bad pilots I know who think they’re good.”

Death could relate, and her anger with her friend disappeared as her empathy took over.  “I get it.  I could always shoot better and faster than all of the boys I grew up with, and every solider I’ve met in the military so far can’t keep up with me.  Not even Miller, and he’s a damn animal with a rifle.”  She shrugged.  “And I like to do adrenaline junkie shit, I can’t help it.”  This made Porter laugh, which then got Death to smile.  “Well, I mean, that bullshit you pulled back there was beyond what I can handle, I’ll be honest!”

Porter was laughing and crying at the same time.  “Oh, I’m sorry Death!  Dammit I’m sorry!” she cried.  She threw her arms around her friend and started sobbing.  “I felt so alive!  I was so happy!  I can just, fly, and this helicopter is so fast, you know?”  

Death held her friend and laughed.  “I hate you, Porter, just so you know.”  Porter cried and laughed.  The women hugged as the world seemed to stand still.

Suddenly, Death’s instincts kicked in and she froze.  “Porter,” she whispered, “do you feel that?”

“Yes,” Porter answered honestly.  The two women disengaged their hug and looked around.  They saw headlights driving towards them from several miles away. 

“Shit,” Death whispered.  She turned her head and saw headlights coming in from the opposite direction about the same distance out.  “This isn’t good.  Where are we?”

“In a clearing in a forest.  I can see pretty well in the dark but I didn’t see any buildings or roads.  I just figured Doc would off road a little bit to get to us.”

“Doc’s an idiot,” Death muttered.  “Kill the lights on the bird.”

Porter jumped into the helicopter and grabbed two backpacks that were strapped to the back of the pilot and copilot seats.  “My friends always pack emergency military kits in their planes but I don’t crash land so I never need them.”  She shook her head as if trying to convince herself.  “I still didn’t crash!  I landed this thing just fine!”  She tossed the small backpacks to agent Death, then jumped into the pilot seat and powered down the lights on the craft.  As the lights went dead, the night became eerily silent and dark.

A beam from a flashlight illuminated the backpacks.  Death quickly located the other flashlight in the second backpack and flicked it on but noticed that they had no weapons.  “Here!” she said to her pilot friend.  “Put this on and hold onto your light.  We’re gonna have to run like hell tonight.”

“Oh my,” Porter said.  “What have I gotten us into?”

In the distance, two convoys of vehicles sped towards a clearing in the forest from opposite directions with men who were heavily armed, very dangerous and looking for a fire fight.