Light Up the Night by M. L. Buchman

the stern of the boat. She’d sweep up from behind so that she shot the engine first, but not the boat or its occupants.
    The moment before she opened fire, the boat leaped away.
    â€œShit!”
    â€œWhat was that, O’Malley?” Chief Maloney clearly didn’t like the loss of focus.
    Trisha checked for Merchant to make sure her airspace was clear, then swung to follow.
    â€œHe’s running the two-fifty. Am in close pursuit.”
    A low squeal in both earphones of her helmet told her that an RPG was coming straight at her, little more than a red dot on her visor.
    She slewed left as Roland released a flare set to starboard that should attract the RPG’s attention if it had a heat- or light-guided head.
    The Dopplering squeal, shifting from low to lower, told her the threat was past. Before the guy could rearm, she called out to Roland.
    â€œNow!”
    He lit off one of the miniguns and she steered it right toward the stern of the boat.
    High whistles reported incoming rifle fire. The bullets were occasionally pinging off her windscreen as she slewed to the other side, but not piercing or even cracking it. Again, Billy had been right, 5.56 mm ammunition. In the infrared-enhanced projection inside her visor, she could see one of the pirates firing from the middle of the boat accidentally execute the guy seated high in the stern to steer the engine.
    As the man’s body toppled backward into her field of fire, she finished him off, if he wasn’t dead already.
    No time to think about it.
    Driving the fire low and behind, she finally found her mark. Under the water of the stern wake, Roland’s bullets began sparking off metal. After what felt like forever but couldn’t have been more than a second, second and a half at most, the boat lurched forward. They’d shot off the propeller, and the boat buried its bow in the next wave. Everyone still aboard was tumbled forward off their seats.
    She twisted aside just in case Roland didn’t get the minigun stopped in time, but he did.
    Her side of the helicopter was momentarily exposed to the boat, but that couldn’t be helped.
    A sharp sting on her thigh and hip. Another on her ribs, but missing her unarmored shoulder, and then she was past the boat and clear.
    â€œYou okay?” Roland called out.
    Trisha didn’t have time to check, just swung the bird left to make sure she didn’t run head-on into Merchant . Sure enough he was coming up from the bow, right where he was supposed to be. He slowed to a hover before he got quite close enough to draw their fire.
    Trisha circled out of easy target range and then spun to bring the weapons to bear once more on the small boat now wallowing between the waves.
    â€œUh, I seem to be fine.” She flexed a few muscles in her leg and arm without either screaming pain or spastically affecting the foot pedals or the cyclic control in her right hand. Her ribs stung like hell; she hoped she hadn’t cracked one. She’d never been shot before. A wave of panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she slammed it aside. Time to deal with that later.
    If she’d trusted Roland’s timing and Dennis to know his place, as she should have, she could have climbed out right over the Merchant without exposing herself to gunfire from the skiff. The chopper’s armor was much better than hers. It even had redundant systems in most areas in case something was hit.
    She keyed the radio.
    â€œOne down, accidentally shot by his own crew, then fell overboard into my path of fire. Max, there’s no way he survived, but if he did, he’s a couple hundred yards back in your direction off the stern.”
    â€œRoger.” Max’s problem now.
    She focused on the boat, rolling a thumbwheel to zoom in her display. The pirates were all hunkered as low as they could get in the boat. It looked as if they’d shipped on a foot or so of water when the bow had nosed under, but they