The helicopter pilot yanked hard, swinging slantwise just in time to miss singeing the rotor blades on the passing lazar beam.
The golden culprit hovered nearby. A snazzy moonbeam glinted from its wings.
"I'm sorry," the griffin said. "I thought you were attacking me. What're you doing flying at night?"
"I'm part of the Reacher Group. Reaching for the stars," the pilot shouted.
"I see." The griffin cocked it's feathery head to one side. "So sorry I bothered you." He flapped his wings toward the east.
"Wait! Do you have a name?"
Should have guessed, the pilot thought.
Beam me up Dan-o!