Vance pulled himself across the planking and stretched for a box of gear stowed beneath the stern platform. In it was a constant traveling companion: his chrome-handled 9mm Walther. Although the concept of downing a Hind gunship with small-arms fire had been tested in Afghanistan and found wanting, he was so angry his better judgment was not fully in play.
The pistol remained in its waterproof case. Quickly he took it out, unwrapped it, and clicked a round into the chamber. Then he tried to steady himself against the fallen mast.
The Hind was about a hundred meters away now, coming in low. Were they going to strafe? No, they probably didn't realize he was there.
They were about to be in for a surprise.
He could see the weapons-system operator inside the lower bulletproof bubble. Forget it. And the pilot, seated just above him, was similarly invulnerable. No way. Furthermore, the dual rocket pods beneath each short wing were probably armored. Again no vulnerability.
Aside from the poorly protected gas tanks there was only one point worth the trouble. If…
It was about to pass directly overhead, and he saw that he was going to be lucky. One Swatter missile remained, secured on the hardpoint tip of the stubby starboard wing. It was the only shot he had.
But if he didn't get it, they would get him. One touch of the red firing button by the weapons operator and Odyssey II would be evaporated.
He took careful aim at the small white tube on the wing, still nestled on its launcher, and squeezed off a round. But at that instant Odyssey II dipped in the swell and he saw sparks fly off the fuselage instead. The chopper passed blissfully overhead, its engine a dull roar above the howl of the sea.