Andy McNab - DropZone

‘Like you wouldn’t believe,’ said Ethan.

‘It’s a whole different ball game now,’ Johnny told him. ‘But just remember what we said and you’ll be fine. And if you thought doing a tandem was incredible, wait till you find yourself under your own canopy.’

And when the time came, when Ethan actually found himself at the door of the plane at 12,000 feet, Johnny on one side, Sam on the other, everything Johnny had told him, everything he’d felt during the tandem, was blown out of the sky. This was a totally different experience. In the tandem jump, the decisions had all been made by Sam. Now, even though Sam and Johnny were with him, Ethan decided when to jump. And he wasn’t strapped to anyone at all.

The call came, and Ethan jumped.

He fell…

… tumbled…

… tried to stabilize…

Around him the world spun and flipped. The plane appeared, disappeared.

Green Earth…

Blue sky…

Green again…

Arch your back, Ethan… he told himself.

Stable! Air rushing past, blasting away all sense of sound.

Ethan felt his arms buffeted by the wind as if he’d stuck them out of a car sun roof at eighty.

Johnny and Sam used hand signals. Ethan recognized them from the intense training of the day before. Understanding burst in his brain and he responded, adjusted his body position, checked his altimeter.

This feels natural, he thought; like I’m meant to be up here, doing this. But what really grabbed him was the sense of freedom. Even with Johnny and Sam falling with him, he was out there and in control of what was going on. It was up to him to get his positioning right, to pull the ripcord. And it felt brilliant. Nothing could ever touch this.

More hand signals. Time to deploy the canopy. Ethan looked down to the handle at the end of the ripcord. He knew he had to make sure he had firm contact. He gripped it hard, just as Sam and Johnny had taught him in the hangar, raising his other hand above his head for symmetry, to stop himself from spinning out.

Everything was in the next movement.

He pulled the handle hard and downwards. Any other direction and the wire could snag in the steel piping it ran through, the pin wouldn’t pull, and the main canopy wouldn’t deploy.

As soon as he’d pulled the handle, he pushed both arms out to the side.

Symmetrical.

Stable.

Crack!

Ethan felt his whole body being pulled upwards as, above him, his canopy burst open, caught air, inflated. Johnny and Sam were nowhere to be seen; they’d spun off to find some clean air to pull their own rigs.

‘Ethan. You OK?’

For a second Ethan had no idea where the voice was coming from. He was breathless, disorientated, buzzing like hell. Then he remembered the radio. It was Johnny on the other end.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Spotted the DZ?’

Ethan quickly glanced around. There it was. How small it looked. ‘Got it. Now what?’

Sam’s voice came over the radio too. ‘Remember what you learned yesterday. Just stay on your current heading,’ he said. ‘You’re doing fine. Remember to use those steering toggles. Try it. Track right.’

Ethan pulled the right steering toggle. He felt himself turn to the right. He eased off, tried the left toggle, turned left. Wow! He was in control of this thing! Unreal!

‘Great,’ came Sam’s voice again. ‘Keep doing that so that you’re on course for the DZ, OK? But remember, you’re not aiming to land on it. You’re aiming for the field just off to the right.’

Johnny’s voice crackled in. ‘It’s a bigger target than the DZ and it keeps you out of the way of those who know what they’re doing. Like me.’

Ethan laughed, looked down at the fields below, and started to gradually alter his course.

The world was getting closer and everything was quiet. The wind pushed him along, and slowly he drifted down, down, down.

‘Right,’ came Johnny’s voice. ‘I’m down. Perfect landing, obviously. How are you feeling?’

‘Awesome! How am I looking?’

‘You’re on a good heading,’ said Johnny. ‘Stay on that line and I’ll meet you in the field, OK?’

‘No worries,’ said Ethan.

‘OK. Just remember to turn into the wind and flare as you come in, just to slow yourself down. Not too much, though; I don’t want you collapsing your canopy and breaking a leg on your first jump.’

Ethan looked down. He could see Johnny waving up at him, walking from the DZ to the field. And it was getting closer. He was amazed by how the Earth could seem so far away, and then, in seconds, come racing up to meet him. He let the wind take him. The field was clearly visible, and with the occasional adjustment he was dead on course. Following Johnny’s instructions to the letter, he turned into the wind for his final approach.

He felt the wind slow him down. Then he pulled the toggles together, felt the canopy buck a little – and he was down.

His first landing. His first solo landing.

Bloody hell…

Johnny strolled over.

‘Ready to go again?’

Ethan didn’t even need to reply.

‘Recap,’ said Sam, eyes hard. ‘You’re up to level five now. What have you covered?’

Johnny had just gone to grab a drink and Ethan was alone with Sam in the hangar. It was the third day of his AFF and his feet had, quite literally, hardly touched the ground.

Ethan felt like his brain had hardwired itself to anything and everything to do with skydiving. He went through all that Sam and Johnny had taught him, demonstrated hand signals, body positions, used correct terminology. Everything he’d learned had stuck. No detail was missing. Ethan felt that skydiving was as much second nature to him now as walking and breathing.

Sam nodded when he finished. ‘You learn quick,’ he said. ‘But don’t get complacent. Remember, heights don’t kill, the ground does. And that will only kill you if you forget your drills, lose concentration, or try to show off. Remember the seven Ps: Perfect Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance.’

Ethan remembered. But then Sam had a habit of repeating everything until whatever he’d taught you became instinctive. Ethan also remembered what had happened to Jake; how close he’d been to bouncing, as skydivers called it – landing at an unsurvivable speed.

Johnny came back into the hangar, and handed Sam and Ethan a bottle of water each. Then Sam let Johnny kick off with what they were doing next.

‘The three-sixty-degree turns were excellent, Eth; nicely done,’ Johnny said. ‘Level six is more fun though – it’s front-loop time!’

Ethan looked at him. ‘Front loop?’

‘Mid-air somersault,’ explained Johnny. ‘You flip yourself over while you’re in freefall, then stabilize.’

‘You’ll be doing some tracking too,’ said Sam. ‘That’s what we call it when we zip forward through the air, rather than just freefalling. You use it if you’re trying to put distance between yourself and other skydivers. Or if you just like going fast.’

‘What’s after that, then?’ asked Ethan. ‘If this is level six, what’s left?’

‘Level seven is where you’ll put the whole lot together,’ said Sam. ‘You’ll do your damnedest to pull off a decent exit from the aircraft, follow our hand signals, do a front loop, stabilize, turn three hundred and sixty degrees left and right, then track away and deploy your canopy.’

‘And level eight,’ said Johnny with a big smile, ‘is hop ’n’ pop. You’re on your own from exit to landing.’

‘And that’s it?’ said Ethan. ‘Qualified?’

‘Ten more consolidation jumps, and you’re certified,’ Sam told him.

Ethan felt even more excited now that he was so close to finishing. Was his life really becoming this cool? Apparently it was, and he was loving it!