The Trails
Jackson looked on from the flight deck as the ZH-66 spooled up. The overwhelming whine of the APU drowned out the dull roar of the engines and general cacophony of the flight deck that usually enters his ears. The helo spooled up as its flight crew made final preparations to launch. All of a sudden, a jarring thud hit him and he snapped out of the trance the rotors slowly spinning up had put him in. He tried to vocalize his shock but his words were carried away by the helo's wash. What the fuck was that? thud. thud. thud. More and more were hitting him, like a big drum below decks was being beaten on. He looked out at the horizon and spotted smoke trails - missiles and guns flickering to the south. There was shooting over near basil, not 10 miles from the task force, and all he could hear was the rotors as he watched beautiful grey smoke trails streak into the sky.