LNL: Honneur and Patrie
Time: Somewhere in Turn 3
The whine changing to howl of the twin turbo Isotov engines melded with the chopping noise of the 5 stubby blades on the Hind D was heard long before the helicopter was seen.
Shit thought Col. Meade…not like this, not in this tin can. He rode in the front of the M113, the tree lined road ahead framed the fire spitting Hydra perfectly for him. As the Hind flared and rose above the housing not 150m away he could see every detail of the flying tank down to the last rivet.
Flame spat from the 12.7mm 4 x turret gun, tracer rounds stitched through the trees and along the road towards him.
80mm and 57mm rockets gouted flame and black smoke as they hurtled across the short distance to him and his precious cargo.