Thirty-eight U.S. and Afghan special forces perished in the copter shoot down.
The 'copter settled silently down into the heart of the city, glowing red from the flames and bombing.
The pilot's voice jarred him to reality as the copter berthed.
They couldn't bring the copter in with that thing squatting out there.
If he missed it, he wouldn't get his copter license until summer.
He lifted her from the couch and carried her to her 'copter.
"The whole east coast's gone crazy," said the 'copter man drily.
You should be able to, ah, requisition a truck, or possibly even a 'copter or aircraft.
The 'copter pilot and Sergeant Walpole stiffened to attention.
The copter swung to the northwest, roaring a thousand feet above the snow-covered mountain tops.