Robert Doherty - Section 8

"Goggles," Vaughn said over the FM radio.

Both he and Tai slid the night vision goggles mounted on their helmets down and switched them on. The cargo bay was lit only by a few small red night-lights, but with the goggles, everything appeared as if brightly lit. Vaughn looked out over the ramp and could see hundreds of bright stars. It was beautiful.

Ruiz lifted a single finger ever so slightly on his right hand, and the curtain behind him slowly began to open.

"Gentlemen and lady, it is time."

Vaughn could feel the weight of the parachute, reserve, rucksack, weapon, and combat vest all weighing him down. Over a hundred pounds, all focused on the top of his shoulders, pressing down on him. He remembered jumps where his rucksack had weighed over twice as much and his only thought after standing at the six-minute warning had been to pray for the green light to go on so he could get the hell out of the plane and get this weight off his shoulders.

He glanced to his left at Tai. She stood ramrod straight, as if denying the weight on her shoulders.

The plane was descending. Even without access to the cockpit, David could tell that. Looking out one of the windows, he saw the ocean slowly approaching. He estimated that he had already passed through 10,000 feet, and the descent seemed to be picking up speed.

His attempts to get into the armored pilot's compartment had all failed. Whoever prepared this plane had done a good job. Naturally, there were no convenient parachutes lying around. His attempts to wake up the other passengers had also failed. Whatever had been in that gas was very powerful. David figured he had a couple of minutes left. He stared at the unconscious occupants of the passenger compartment and almost envied them. They would simply pass out of this life without the terror of seeing their end coming. For people in this profession, it was almost a mercy.

He went back to his seat, took out his PDA and satphone. The message he had begun earlier was still there.

He began typing.

There was a collective gasp in the room as the object behind the curtain was revealed. This from people who had more money than many small nations and were not known to gasp at anything.

A slight smile curled at the sides of Ruiz's mouth. It was as he'd hoped. He had picked this particular item to be first for shock value. A jewel-festooned golden box over two feet long by one foot wide and high, it was a unique piece, dating back over six hundred years to the height of craftsmen at the Chinese Imperial Court. It was well-known among collectors – known for its extreme value and beauty, and known to have been lost during World War II, disappearing during the Rape of Nanking.

Ruiz left the podium, went to the box and carefully lifted the lid. The box had just been a precursor. Out of its interior he lifted a jade sculpture. The half-dozen in the audience, stunned already by the box, could only sit there with jaws agape at this even rarer, and greater, treasure.

"The bidding will commence on this," he announced, bringing the object forward and showing it to the six people.

The first of the six to collect his wits immediately shouted out a number. An insanely large number to begin the bidding with. The smile grew larger on Ruiz's face as a second person topped that number by over a million U.S. dollars, the currency of all world business.

In his other hand, Ruiz held a stopwatch, which he now showed to the bidders.

"As agreed, the bidding will be over in sixty seconds."

The amount escalated at a pace the person taking in the numbers could barely keep up with as the buyers scrambled under the dual pressure of little time and even greater greed.

"One minute," the crew chief announced, holding up a single finger.

Vaughn and Tai edged closer to the ramp, side by side. Glancing down, he could see that they were over open ocean. The plan was to offset from Jolo over ten miles. That would keep anyone on the island from being aware a plane was anywhere nearby. They would fly their parachutes to the island.

"One minute," the team leader announced to the others. He lowered the satphone for a second.

"This is going to be very interesting."

David glanced out the window. He could see the horizon now, which meant the plane was very low. There was so much more he wanted to write, but there was no more time. He hit the send button on the satphone.

The SENDING message flickered on the small screen.

"Come on, come on," David whispered. He glanced around. Should he assume the crash position that was always briefed? He smiled bitterly to himself. With the engines still at full thrust, there wasn't going to be much left of this thing after it hit the water.

He looked at the screen. SENDING was still flashing.

Vaughn still couldn't see land below. He had to trust the plane's navigator that they were going out where they'd planned. He looked up into the tail of the plane at the red light that glowed there. In a flash it went out and the green light above it flickered on.

"Go," he yelled.

Ruiz held up his hand, but still had to shout to stop the frenzied bidding.

"Time."

He turned to the shaken woman who had been taking in the bids.

"Who and how much?" The woman swallowed.

"Sixty million. Bidder number four."

There was silence in the room as the number sank in. It was as if, during the actual bidding, the reality had been lost in the lust for a one-of-a-kind piece of history.

David's complete focus was on the message flashing on his screen. He didn't want to see how close the water – and his death – were. The letters SENDING began to dissolve and were replaced. He cursed. BLOCKED They'd thought of everything, and cut him out of the Milstar loop.

The nose of the plane hit.

Vaughn and Tai went off the ramp in step and fell into the darkness.

The room exploded in excitement. Money wasn't the issue. Questions were hurled at Ruiz. Where had these artifacts come from? Who was behind this?

He did not answer nor did he give them time to collect themselves.

"We will now bid on the box. And…" He paused for effect.

"…after that, there will be sixteen more articles just as rare and exquisite."

A piece of seat cushion and a rapidly dissipating fuel slick marked the grave of all those who had been on the plane.

As soon as he was clear of the plane, Vaughn assumed a stable position, back arched, arms and legs spread wide. Then he quickly reached down and pulled the rip cord for his main parachute.

The opening shock jerked him upright. He looked up and checked his canopy. It was fully deployed and appeared intact. His hands snaked up and grabbed the toggles controlling the chute. Then he looked about for Tai. She was low jumper, according to the plan, the primary navigator to the drop zone on the island.

Even though they had radio communication, they would not use it unless absolutely necessary, for fear that the Abu Sayef would pick up the transmission. Vaughn spotted her chute below him and to the right. He pulled on his right toggle and turned to follow her.

"They're in the air," the team leader announced.

"Let's see how well the bitch can do."