Nothing happened. Not nothing , but the computer’s logic overrode him. “Obstacle avoidance priority,” the system announced. The stick stiffened, resisting his input.
Frank grunted. They had four Navy SEALs in the back, a target building in the valley, and a window of ninety seconds. As they crested the ridgeline, the wind sheared hard off the mountain face. The NGS compensated instantly—but wrong . It over-corrected, tilting the Black Hawk into a 15-degree roll toward a rocky spire.
No ghost in the machine ever beat a man with his hands on the reins.
“The NGS would have gotten us killed,” Frank said, breathing hard. He wiped sweat from his brow and looked at the dark joystick in his hand. “Computers don’t drive Black Hawks, son. Drivers do.”
The SEALs in the back cursed. The mission was about to fail.
