Page 79 of Godless
"You're not the captain," Rafael pointed out dryly, his voice strained. "You're not even flying the plane."
Diego waved this off. "It's my plane. I get to call myself captain if I want. Julio's just the help." He glanced toward the cockpit, where his hired pilot was focused on the controls, before continuing. "On behalf of Air Certain Death, I'd like to welcome you to our express flight to the Project Icarus facility. Weather conditions at our destination are a brisk negative twenty degrees Celsius with light snow. Perfect visibility for our night jump operations."
Rafael rolled his eyes, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitching.
"We'll be reaching our drop zone momentarily," Diego continued, gesturing like a flight attendant now. "Please ensure all lethal weapons are safely secured for the initial free fall."
He swept an arm toward the open door where frigid wind whipped through the cabin. "Our primary exits are located here at the front of the aircraft. When the light turns green, please form an orderly line and hurl yourselves into the void. In the event of a sudden loss of courage, begging for mercy will not be acknowledged. You're on your own, amigos."
Even Jasper's mouth twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile.
"Our in-flight service today includes certain death if you forget to pull your ripcord, probable maiming if you land in the snowdrifts, and complimentary PTSD for our first-time jumpers." Diego winked at Rafael. "Our estimated time of arrival at the landing zone is approximately three minutes of free-fall terror followed by a lifetime of questioning your life choices."
I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. Even in the face of a mission this serious, Diego's ability to cut through tension was exactly what we needed.
"Thank you for choosing Certain Death Airways for your infiltration needs," he finished and took a theatrical bow. "We hope you enjoy your flight and look forward to seeing those who survive at the rendezvous point."
The pilot signaled from the cockpit, holding up one finger.
Diego checked his oxygen one final time. "Seriously though. Facility approach from the north ridge. Rendezvous at the drainage culvert. Comms check on landing. Remember, don't deploy your chutes until you hit one thousand feet. We need to stay off the radar and invisible as long as possible."
I adjusted my night-vision goggles and checked my knives one final time. My hand moved back to the blade strapped to my right thighand checked it again. The handle was exactly where it should be, the same as the last three times I'd verified it. I needed to focus.
"Don't worry, I'll be right behind you," I assured Rafael, squeezing his shoulder.
"That's what worries me," he replied and gave me a weak smile. "You'll be watching my ass the whole way down."
"Damn right I will," I grinned. "Best view in Alaska, even in a pressure suit."
The plane's red interior light switched to green.
"Go, go, go!" Diego shouted.
Jasper was first out the door, disappearing into the night without a moment's hesitation. Diego followed immediately after, his whoop of joy swallowed by the howling wind.
"Together?" I asked Rafael, holding out my hand.
He took it, squeezing tight enough to grind the bones. "Together."
We jumped.
The first moment after stepping into nothingness was always the most intense. The wind hit hard, tearing at my suit, my mask. The roar was deafening even through my helmet. The temperature cut through every layer of protection.
Then training kicked in. Arms out, legs slightly bent, body positioned for maximum control during free fall.
I looked for Rafael. He was maybe five meters to my right. We'd separated the moment after jumping, but he was close enough if something went wrong. His silhouette was stark against the void, his form textbook perfect despite the terror that had been written all over his face thirty seconds ago.
Our eyes met through our goggles. Even at terminal velocity, even through the plastic and the darkness and the howling wind, I could read his expression. He trusted me. Trusted that I'd get him through this, that we'd land together.
At this altitude, the air was so thin our oxygen masks were the only thing keeping us conscious. Through my night vision goggles, Alaska spread out in shades of green and black below.
Rafael's lips were moving behind his oxygen mask. Prayer or profanity, impossible to tell at this speed.
My altimeter counted down. I adjusted my trajectory, angling closer to him.
At precisely one thousand feet, I caught Rafael's eye and signaled. He nodded.
I deployed my chute.
