As the cycle squad raced up Wilshire Boulevard the chopper flew about one hundred yards ahead to scout the route. Buzz, one of the best combat pilots Victor Steiger had ever worked with, flew the chopper while Ramirez, wired into the weapons system, manned the guns. "Hey, Ramirez. Heat signature up on the left about a thousand feet. Check it out."

Ramirez zoomed in with his visor. "One guy. Rocket launcher. Finger on the trigger. Aimed at us. No problem."

The heat-seeking missile was launched and headed for the chopper.

"Rocket on the way. Big problem," Buzz corrected Ramirez.

Ramirez targeted the missile and fired. Seconds later, the approaching rocket exploded. He continued firing the machine cannon at the shooter on the roof. What was left could have been mistaken for slaughterhouse slop.

"You were saying?" Ramirez replied.

Buzz slowed down as he flew through the next intersection.

"Well what do we have here? Down on the ground. Heads up. Ambush in the intersection right below us. We'll clean it up."

"Yo, Buzz. Give me ten seconds on the deck," Ramirez asked.

"Bullshit. We'd be a sitting duck," Buzz replied. "Five seconds."

"Seven."

"Deal. Hold on."

17