Sprawled across the seat, Markowitz could not see whether he had shot true, but Andy had a front row seat. The canister that the rifle fired peeled away, releasing the net to spread as it flew. The pilot tried to sideslip and avoid the projectile. He managed to shift the fuselage clear, but the net engulfed the whirling disks of the craft’s rotors. The blades whipped the mesh around themselves, wrapping it down to their hub. The chopper’s engine screamed as it fought to do its job against the binding. Smoke began to pour from vents and the Yellowjacket tilted. Rotors frozen, it dropped from the sky like a stone. The nose hit first, splintering the canopy. The shock of impact jarred the rotors free. One blade swept into the sidewalk, crumpling and dying. The Yellowjacket bucked and flipped onto its back for a final crash into the street. A torrent of flame-lit smoke billowed out through the smashed canopy. Within seconds the dead craft was engulfed in flames.