CHAPTER 1 San Francisco, California Tuesday, 16 th October 2001 air-whore n. Colloquialism for a mercenary-pilot who'll fly for anyone - anywhere - anytime. It always starts out the same way...with that damned squeaking sound. I hate that sound; because it signals what’s coming next...and I dread it with all my heart. * * * * * The next thing I know, I’m standing on the left side of a Hughes 300 helicopter, directly behind the engine, where a section of the tail rotor driveshaft is exposed, as it comes out of the main transmission, before it disappears down the tail boom housing. The driveshaft is a smooth, fat, hollow aluminum-alloy tube that’s painted a glossy off-white. My hands encase this tube ...