Christopher Makim Chronicles MONTANA, December, 2033
Allison had never been in a helicopter before, let alone an X-3C stealth, private jet helicopter like the one she found herself in. It was a thrill zooming at three hundred fifty miles an hour over the rugged Montana landscape a mere fifty feet above the ground. The X-3C used an advanced version of the terrain recognition software developed for cruise missiles by Raytheon in the early 2010s to follow every twist and turn of a small river cutting through the dense forest. Despite her essential faith in automatic guidance computer technology, there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that the four-passenger craft might plummet into the icy water at any moment. It helped to grab on to the arms of the plush captain’s chair she was sitting in so tightly her knuckles turned white.
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