Andy McNab - DropZone

Then, as the flat ground disappeared and the ruins loomed up on their left, a man wearing an expensive leather jacket and carrying a weapon ran out through a gap in the walls and barged straight into Johnny. They both went down.

Ethan watched them tumble to the ground, rolling away from the ruins and towards the bushes that led to the cliffs. He heard the man’s gun clatter on some rocks and hoped that he’d dropped it, but then saw that he’d managed to keep hold of it despite the fall. The man scrambled to his feet, raised the weapon and took aim at Johnny.

Instinct kicked in and Ethan launched himself, feet first, at the man’s hand. Whether it was the sensible thing to do or not, he didn’t care; if he didn’t do something, he knew Johnny would be dead.

He heard bones smash as his foot connected with the man’s hand and sent the gun spinning off into the dark. There was a shrill scream. Ethan’s unexpected attack had given Johnny enough time to get to his feet and launch an attack of his own. But the man was quick, dodging to the right and catching Johnny, throwing him over and onto his back. Johnny cried out, briefly winded, and Ethan went in again with his other boot, this time to the man’s stomach. The guy doubled over and retched – just as something smacked into the side of his head with a dull thud. He fell backwards and hit the ground.

Ethan stared down at him, ready for another attack, but he wasn’t moving; blood was pooling beneath his head, leaking into the grass.

Johnny was on his feet again, looking quickly left and right. ‘Move it,’ he said, and grabbed Ethan’s arm to pull him on.

‘What happened?’ asked Ethan.

‘Stray bullet,’ said Johnny. ‘He was probably shot accidentally by one of his mates. But we have to get out of here. We don’t want to get caught in the crossfire either.’

‘It wasn’t a stray,’ said a voice from the ruins, and both Ethan and Johnny turned to see a large, familiar figure emerge from the darkness.

‘Sam,’ said Johnny.

Ethan spotted the machine gun in Sam’s hands. He even recognized what it was: an MP5 – as used by the SAS. Sam looked terrifying. Like the rest of the team, he was head to toe in black, his face streaked with grey and white camouflage, like bits of the night had snagged on him. His knuckles were bloodied. He was also wearing a small backpack that Ethan recognized as a BASE rig. He’d come prepared for every eventuality.

‘No time for pleasantries,’ he said. ‘We need to get to the watchtower now. Move it!’

Ethan felt Sam grab his shoulder and drag him away from the body. ‘Come on, Eth,’ he said. ‘Nothing you can do for him. Let’s go.’

Ethan forced his legs to move and fell into step behind Johnny. They ran round the castle ruins and soon reached the watchtower. Luke, Natalya and Kat were waiting for them.

‘What happened?’ asked Luke.

‘Must be another way to the beach,’ said Johnny. ‘Path was clear – we sorted the boats – then we were being shot at. Claymore took care of two x-rays. Two more chased us up the path. Then they ran into another Claymore. What about you?’

Luke made to speak, but then another explosion slammed across the island. Ethan was stunned by the sound of this one; it was the biggest of the night so far and thundered around them, the initial blast followed by a rumble of other smaller explosions. Everyone in the team ducked, half expecting to be covered in debris.

‘What the hell was that?’ asked Kat.

‘Wasn’t one of mine,’ Luke told her.

‘It wouldn’t be,’ said Johnny.

Everyone turned.

‘Let’s just say that they won’t be able to leave the island in a hurry,’ Johnny said smugly.

‘The helicopters!’ said Ethan. ‘ That’s where you went!’

Johnny nodded. ‘I took the P4 and some detonators from Nat just in case an opportunity presented itself. And the helicopters were a pretty big opportunity. Couldn’t resist it.’

The explosions continued to rattle on as the helicopters slowly disintegrated, ribbons of fire leaping into the air like dancers at a night-time rave.

‘Right,’ said Sam. ‘Time to go. Johnny? Luke?’

Ethan watched as Johnny and Luke slipped off their bergens and opened them, pulling out the BASE rigs and life-jackets and handing them to the rest of the team. As Ethan took his, he saw Sam pull a lifejacket of his own from a pouch on his belt.

‘The lifejackets will inflate on impact with the water,’ said Sam. ‘Each one has a beacon. When you hit the water, get out of your rig, locate the rest of the team and get into a circle. Luke, contact the sub and tell them what’s happening. They need to know we’re coming from the cliff, not the beach.’ He turned back to the others. ‘Ready?’

Ethan pulled on his rig and lifejacket. He double-checked every clip, holding the drogue chute in his hand. The last time he’d worn a canopy this small was when he’d flown a Raider. He remembered then how Johnny had described them – fast and scary. Much like what I’m doing now, he thought.

‘Let me,’ said Kat, and checked him over. ‘It’s not as difficult as it looks,’ she told him. ‘And these cliffs are way higher than the antenna Johnny and I jumped from. You’ll be fine.’

‘That makes me feel so much better,’ said Ethan with a nod, face deadly serious. He didn’t know whether to believe her or not. But it didn’t matter; he had no choice. If he didn’t jump from the cliff, he was dead. It was a no-brainer.

He turned, saw Sam looking at him.

‘So, Ethan, you ready for your first BASE jump?’

Ethan was about to answer when shots rang out, cutting him off. He turned, spotted a group of men charging towards them from the castle.

‘Move it!’ yelled Sam.

Johnny looked at Ethan. ‘Life’s too short not to!’ he said, turned and charged towards the cliff edge. He disappeared without a sound, then a loud whoop and the crack of the canopy opening told Ethan he was fine.

Kat went next, quickly followed by Luke and Natalya. Ethan heard each canopy grab air as they threw out their drogue chutes.

‘It’s a piece of piss,’ said Sam, looking at him. ‘Just run like hell, jump as far as you can, and throw out your drogue chute. Now go!’

Ethan remembered what Johnny had told him when he’d watched him and Kat do their BASE jump. He visualized it, did his best to recall what he’d seen through the binos as Kat had leaped into nothing. Suddenly shots peppered the ground near his feet. He didn’t think any more; he ran.

Then he was at the cliff edge and jumping into the darkness, chucking his drogue chute out as hard as he could. He expected to feel it grab air instantly, pull out his main canopy.

It didn’t.

It threw him head over arse. And now he was piling towards whatever rocks lay below him, head-first. This was nothing like a skydive.

He tumbled, tried to stabilize, but it didn’t feel right. He was falling too slowly. It felt like he’d fallen off a diving board. When the hell was he going to pick up enough speed to allow his drogue to grab air and pull out his main canopy?

Panic burst in Ethan’s skull. He forced himself to ignore it. He could hear the windrush getting faster – he was picking up speed.

But the increased speed still wasn’t enough: he still wasn’t stable.

Shit…

He ran through everything he’d done, from clipping the rig on, to jumping far enough from the cliff, to throwing out the chute. He’d done it to the letter. No detail missed. Not a goddamned thing.

I’m dead…

Then the canopy blasted open above him. He looked up, checked everything, steered himself away from the cliff. For a split second he forgot what he was doing and pulled a steering toggle too hard. He nearly turned himself back into the cliff. But his reactions were so sharp now that he pulled away in time. Moments later, he had the canopy under control and was zipping through the dark, the cold sea air clammy on his skin, leaving salt on his lips.