The helo bounced from a thermal caused by the streets still releasing their heat of the day, and more than a few rounds zinged off its armored hull. The gunner sitting next to the pilot responded by sending a flurry of soft gel rounds from the twin belly cannons, dispersing the crowd faster than drek down a loo. Nobody wanted to get intimate with gelatin rounds coming in at over Mach 1. At this distance, they stung like a Cuban fire bee. Any closer and they’d hit like a rain of sledgehammers, busting bones and shattering skulls if the wrong part of your anatomy got in the way.