As the lead craft piloted by Viktor dives under the radar hard deck, massive bucking wreathes of turbulence wrack his vehicle. Carefully he adjusts his airlerons to compensate, a heavy downdraft slams the sleak airframe like a child slapping down his toy boat. The lead craft adjusts its rotors to quickley recover altitude, shooting into the draft. The chase craft is less fortunate, as the hammering thermal puts the craft into violent jacknife, uppending its starboard rotor, the electronic controls harshley lock as the craft fights to realign its rudders. Jamming his cyclic forward and throwing his engines into cork screw position Niko fights his craft back into stability, the pressure beneath the craft`s wings rockets as the craft rights its self, shooting out from under a crashing wave. For a madenning hour the pilots fight the turbulant storm until at last the heavy rains let up, replaced by sheer winds and overcast skies, flying may be a simpler manner but ballistics are fucked.