While hovering, Riku's thumb idly hovered over the weapons trigger not out of bravado, but because habit had taught him to be ready for the thinest thread of threat. The Ka-50 sat in the sky like a black shark carved against the moon. Below, the resort's lights crawled away, a skein of steel and shadow.
Then the HUD chirped a small, clinical tone that cut through the roar of the turbines like a needle. A diamond icon winked red in the corner of his vision. TEXT: TARGET LOCKED SOURCE: GROUND.
Riku's skin went cold. He checked the readouts: azimuth, bearing, range. The green numbers blinked and then froze range tightening, lock confirmed. The targeting computer overlaid a thin, wavering box on the live camera feed, then spiked into a steady red reticle.
Not knowing where the shot would come from was worse than knowing. He flicked the night-vision toggle.
