Page 36 of Blitz

Back out in the hangar, she met up with Blitz and Gator. Blitz was already wearing the tandem parachute, a black backpack-looking device.

They had been clear about what was going to happen once the plane was close to the target and Bree kept going over the instructions in her head.

A man came up to them, and so far, there were no names exchanged. She figured that was customary. “We’re set for you to get your preflight oxygen. The C-17 will be refueled, checked over, and ready for you to load up in an hour.”

Blitz had told her that they would need to breathe pure oxygen to flush any nitrogen from their bloodstreams, preventing the same kind of hypoxia divers experienced. They were led to three chairs, the black helmets ready for them to don. Bree sat down as Blitz helped her with her helmet, slipping it over the tight, knit hat and down over her face. He set the oxygen mask over her face, then adjusted the neck closing to make sure no skin was exposed.

“Breathe slow and steady,” he said. The man had already helped Gator, and he moved to Blitz to get him situated.

“Radio check,” Gator said.

“Copy,” Blitz said, his deep voice soothing in her ear.

“Copy,” she said.

Then before she knew it, they had flown to thirty-thousand feet. The unpadded walls magnified the noise. The temperature dropped rapidly at this altitude, and she could see frost forming on the crew chief’s window near the hatch.

“Testing oxygen,” Gator said, and she and Blitz followed suit.

The crew chief held up his hands, signaling they were five minutes out. The cabin started to depressurize to make sure it was the same as the outside, so they wouldn’t be sucked out of the cargo door as it started to slowly descend, and she caught a glimpse of the dark night sky in the sliver between the fuselage and the bay door. A light flipped on, looking like a red traffic signal.

Her heart pounded and her mouth went dry as she rose at the touch of Blitz’s hand on her arm. She backed into him as he’d trained her, and Gator secured them together. Then he turned so Blitz could inspect him, giving the all-clear.

The crew chief held up one finger, signaling it was almost time. They shuffled toward the open cargo door and waited, her nerves tight. Icy wind screeched inside, beating across her suit, but she barely felt the cold.

“I’ve got you, Bree. Relax. This is something pretty spectacular that few people experience.”

The buzzer screamed inside the aircraft, the green light blinking brightly.

Then there was no more time. Blitz simply leaned forward, and they fell out of the plane. Wind streaked past as they dropped for a few seconds, then the chute deployed, yanking them back up and filling. She let out a long breath. Blitz’s hands were already on the lead lines and guiding them to someplace below…a long, long way below.

She’d expected to experience that icky stomach drop like on a rollercoaster, but as they floated, she took in the breathtaking view and simply forgot about everything. It was like someone had turned on her senses and it was an overload of so many things at once. She saw the world from an unfamiliar point of view, but the detail and beauty with only air between her and the earth was…simply spectacular. The whistling rush of the wind as they fell was gone, but now it was quiet. The kind of peace that comes after chaos.

She could feel the temperature change and pressure on her skin. They floated and floated as Blitz periodically checked his altitude and, she suspected, his GPS, and it was so surreal to see the land come into sharper and sharper focus as trees grew bigger and the land grew closer.

As they rushed closer to the ground, she lifted her legs straight out in front of her. Blitz pulled on the toggles, and they slid onto the ground gently on their rear ends.

As she’d been instructed, she reached for the harness release and moved away from Blitz as he went to his knees and drew the chute in fast and tight. Bree looked up in enough time to see Gator’s chute not far from them.

There was only pride there. Consummate masters of the universe, these two, with six others like them back in Niger. A whole force of them, small but mighty.

Wow.

She stepped out of the harness, then removed the oxygen and her helmet. She peeled off the jumpsuit, accepting weapons and a black vest from Blitz.

Bringing the parachutes with them, they started for a road not far from them, visible through the trees. As they approached, they saw a black Land Rover was parked on the shoulder behind a black van.

“Cuckoo’s Nest,” Blitz said into the radio and the headlights of the van flashed twice. They jogged out of the woods as two men left the cab of the van and grabbed their parachutes and other gear.

Handing the keys to Blitz, the man said, “We’ll be waiting for you at Ostozhenka Street across from Gorky Park near the entrance to the Park Kultury subway station in one hour. Don’t be late,” he said. Then he and the other man jumped back into the van and drove off.

Don’t be late…translated to if you are, there wasn’t going to be any van waiting for them.

Blitz tossed the keys to Gator, and they got into the Land Rover. Blitz opened up the detailed map he’d gotten from Volkov along with a floorplan of the house and the security codes to the gate and doors. There was also a detailed description of the security patrol so they could avoid it both in and out.

Gator drove the speed limit as they passed a scattering of cars. The estate came up on the left, spread out with a large mansion, stables, and corralled fields. It was beautiful. The front gate was wrought iron and filled with curlicues.

Gator parked the Rover about a quarter of a mile away in a secluded part of the estate surrounded by trees.

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