by Seeley James
“Work fast,” Paladin called out. “We’re not waiting for you.” Then he turned to me. “What were you thinking, Jacob? You didn’t ask for qualified specialists?”
Mercury leaned between us. Yeah, brutha, wazzup with that? Just cuz she’s been packin’ her own chute since she was a teenager doesn’t mean she knows what she’s doing. Holy Neptune, dude. I didn’t know people like this still existed. Cut his suspension lines, see if he lands on his feet like a cat.
I said, Need to know who Ross Gio is first.
Refolding your chute isn’t unheard of in the military, but never because of race.
I pointed Paladin at the folding table. Paladin picked up his rig and indicated he was satisfied.
We strapped in. Miguel checked the harnesses and slapped their helmets. Grizzly was the last one ready. They may have laughed at me in the morning, but they listened intently to my instructions in the early afternoon. The only difference between HALO and regular skydiving is the sheer terror, the temperature at 60 degrees below zero Fahrenheit that can stop your heart if your suit doesn’t fit right, the added stress on your chute and harness, hypoxia, and twenty other deadly problems. But they were men and they weren’t going to back out now.
CHAPTER 20
We took off for northern Spain and the Pyrenees mountain range. I sat facing Paladin. Across the aisle from us were Aleksei and Grizzly. Neither had been in a private jet and amused themselves with the folding tables and the pop-up TV screens. Paladin tried to act like he flew private all the time.
“You must be a big shot at Sabel Security,” Paladin said. He waved his hands at the jet’s interior.
“I saved Ms. Sabel’s life a couple times. She lets me use her old jet when it’s not busy on corporate trips.”
“How did they know to have the HALO gear ready?”
“I called from the hotel.”
“You Sabel guys work with the police all the time.”
“Ninety percent of our business is corporate security. The company does work with law enforcement here and there, I’ve heard. But that’s not my thing. I’m on Ms. Sabel’s personal security. I fetch sunglasses, pull her out of burning cars, jump in front of bullets, that kind of thing.”
“Did you call the cops from the hotel?” he asked.
I squinted. “About what?”
He tossed a subtle glance at Aleksei. I laughed him off.
I said, “I heard Free Origins and Birth Right had a nasty divorce, but you and Arrianne seem to get along fine.”
“Free Origins are apologists,” Grizzly barked across the aisle at me. He glared at Paladin. “I’m with Birth Right. We give a damn.”
“We have a truce for the conference.” Paladin held a hand to the man and spoke to me. “An uneasy one.”
Aleksei and Grizzly started arguing about their respective gangs. The finer points were lost on me, but the gist was clear. Each thought the other was bent on destroying the human race.
The man with the heavy circle tattoo walked toward the cockpit. He stopped next to me. “Is there a bathroom this way?”
He was definitely the guy who jumped me in Paris. He had the confidence of a man who’d gotten away with it. While he’d worn a ski mask, he forgot I could identify his mark.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Earl.” No codename.
“Second door.” I pointed then tapped his wrist. “What does the symbol stand for?”
He leaned in close to my face. “It’s the symbol of Fair Heritage, the defenders of roots and ancestry. We gonna put a stop to ethnic fracture and the failure of coexistence.” He glanced at Paladin, Aleksei, and Grizzly. “We ain’t weak children.”
He went to the bathroom.
Mercury stood in the aisle and watched the man. What in the name of Mars is ethnic fracture?
I said, I was going to ask you the same thing. What’s the failure of coexistence?
Mercury said, Sounds like something you’d say while banging a war drum.
I said, Or an excuse for flunking out of high school.
I turned to Paladin. “More than two organizations at the conference?”
“There are a lot of splinter groups.” Paladin looked me over with growing suspicion.
“Fair Heritage is the oldest and largest,” Grizzly said. “And the most violent.”
Aleksei kicked Grizzly. “Violent. Mu-dak. You crazy people to follow woman.”
The two started yelling at each other. Paladin shouted at them. “This is a time to come together. A common cause. Mind your manners when you’re Jacob Stearne’s guest.”
Aleksei calmed himself. Grizzly lowered his voice, not his glare.
I turned to Paladin. “You know my real name. What’s yours?”
All three of them faced me with serious looks. One question too many.
The pilot gave me the signal. It was time to prepare everyone. A business jet is not a jump plane by any stretch of the imagination. It should only be done if the jet is going down. Which means no one suspects it for covert missions. Which is why we’d mastered the HALO technique. It’s come in handy for many special occasions.
When I decided we were prepped and ready, and the cabin depressurized, and the co-pilot told us we had two minutes left before the jump, Paladin huddled his people together in the cargo bay. They put their fists together in the middle. Paladin bellowed, “For Ross Gio!”
The rest answered, “Ross Gio.”
And then they were ready.
The copilot checked the first man’s oxygen mask, altimeter, and other essential gear, then gave the man the signal. He dove out of the cargo bay door. Then the second. And third.
I asked Paladin, “Who is Ross Gio?”
Grizzly stepped between us and faced me. “You ask a lot of questions for an instructor.”
Paladin jumped with a hearty “yahoo!” that disappeared with him. Aleksei went out silently, like a pro. Grizzly followed. I counted the dots falling through the sky, then jumped.
Shortly after stabilizing my fall, I saw Grizzly in a nosedive heading straight for Aleksei. They tangled and fought in the air. Not a smart thing to do at 35,000 feet when you’re falling at over 130 miles per hour. I tucked my arms in and turned myself into a missile heading straight for them.
As I neared, Grizzly produced a knife and sliced Aleksei’s air hose. The Russian tried to grab the knife. Grizzly tried stabbing the man. I arrived falling ten miles an hour faster than the pair of fighters. As I reached them, I slid my right hand to Grizzly’s ripcord and yanked it.
Instantly, the American was hundreds of feet above us with no way to catch up. His descent would take a lot longer than ours. The wind would carry him miles from the landing zone. Where he would wind up was anyone’s guess. That didn’t bother me in the least.
Aleksei fought to reattach his oxygen hose. What he couldn’t see, because it was directly below his chin, was that Grizzly had severed it in the middle. When we take our first breath at extremely high-altitude, which Aleksei would’ve done before he knew his hose was severed, our bodies immediately react to the lowered pressure and oxygen levels by breathing more rapidly. We hyperventilate. Which burns more oxygen, reduces strength in the muscles, and draws needed energy from the brain. In other words, everything goes downhill fast. Exponentially fast.
Aleksei was a Spetsnaz pro, but with the elevated heart rate that goes with any jump, plus the sliced hose, even the strongest man would black out. He needed another ninety seconds of oxygen.
I maneuvered close to him and pointed to my hose and the break. He understood his problem. Using hand-gestures, I told him my plan. It would involve a lot of turbulence for which he would need to compensate. He nodded.
Then his eyes fluttered. He was beginning to lose consciousness.
I moved quickly to get underneath him and turned around so I could see the hose. I was free-falling backward. Aleksei was struggling to stay with me. The wind buffeted us together, which bounced us apart
. Three times, I got in close before I could grab his rig. I held on with one hand and pulled the two pieces of hose together with my other hand. Wrapping my palm around the sliced hose, I bumped foreheads to let him know he could breathe.
Aleksei didn’t respond to the first bump. Or the second. Three times worked. He gasped air. It took another minute to get his brain functioning again. When his gaze finally connected with me in a meaningful way, I showed him my altimeter. We were nearing 10,000 feet. The implication being that he could pull his chute and make it the rest of the way without the need for oxygen. He shook his head.
If I was going down to the deck, he was going to the deck. Tough guys don’t let proximity to death change their plans.
We stayed connected until we got below five thousand feet. At that point, the oxygen was nice, but not necessary. I let him go.
We gave each other some room. He waved a challenge to be the last man to pull his chute. I waved back that the death race was on.
Mercury nosed between us. WAAA-HOOOO! Whaddya think, yo? We’re gonna win this one. Remember that jump back at the castle in Germany?
I said, You mean the one where I almost landed on a gargoyle before opening my chute?
Mercury said, I saved your butt that time, you ingrate. Just keep your ear open, and I’ll tell you when to release.
Letting a forgotten immortal guide my modern parachute would be insane.
Base jumpers often open at 100 feet but aren’t traveling at the high rate of speed we were. In the military, we stuck with 2,500 feet but often trained as low as 250 feet. Given the stresses already on our rigs, my comfort level was around 2,000 feet.
I pulled my chute at 1,500. Aleksei went sailing down another five hundred.
Mercury said, I hate that you let him win, man. Sucks.
I said, Trying to win friends and influence people. Remember?
I flared to a perfect stop. The rest floated down hooting and hollering. Paladin was the first guy to catch up to me. He dropped his gear and ran toward me. “HOLY SHIT! That was the most exciting thing I’ve ever done! You ROCK!”
CHAPTER 21
I raised my shot glass full of Pacharán, a local form of brandy that can be habit-forming. “To Aleksei, who opened his chute a thousand feet below me!”
Cheers from my guests at the dinner table went up. The guys next to him slapped his back. He grinned from ear to ear. We downed our drinks. Laughter filled the banquet room at Oriza in Seville at sunset. The staff swept away the remnants of my tuna loin dinner.
Aleksei staggered to his feet and rambled through a toast for me in Russian. When he said, “Za zhenshchin!” A common Russian toast, to the women! He downed a shot of vodka. The rest of us followed with Pacharán. Aleksei started another toast when the man next to him pulled his arm down and got him back in his chair.
Earl—a Fair Heritage member and the guy who attacked me outside the Junkyard—teased Aleksei and the Free Origins men for getting drunk. His banter sounded less threatening than Grizzly’s attack.
Mercury appeared in his formal toga with red edging. You gotta nice big bromance going down tonight, homie. Spending money like a Caesar and drinking like a hound-dawg. Now it’s time to ask them questions. Get us some intel.
I said, Think they’re drunk enough? They were suspicious last time.
Mercury said, You ask too many questions, they kill you. No big deal. Zack Ames can find a third informant.
A waiter brought a chair and squeezed it into the corner of the table between Paladin and me. We looked up as Arrianne entered with that supermodel walk of hers. Her dark curls formed the perfect backdrop for sparkly diamond earrings and equally glittery necklace. Her backless dress must have been sewn on. It clung in all the right places and stretched in all the others. Or was it the other way around? Teasing wafts of lilacs scented the air around her.
The table noise dropped into the background while my brain conjured up Chris Isaak singing “Wicked Game.” It was indeed a wicked game she was playing. I didn’t want to fall in love—and I wasn’t going to. I took a deep breath, rose, and took the hand she offered. Paladin held her chair. She seated herself like a princess.
“You would not believe the rush,” Paladin started in.
He explained the afternoon’s adventure in excruciating detail and boundless enthusiasm. Arrianne laughed at the appropriate places but never took her eyes off me.
“It was mean of you—” Arrianne interrupted Paladin “—to leave Caleb in the Pyrenees.”
“He tried to kill Aleksei,” I said after recalling Grizzly’s real name. “Attempted murder tends to wear out your welcome on my expeditions.”
“For if you forgive others for their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.” She watched my eyes. “Matthew 6:14. While you’re still my hero, Jacob, Caleb is an important part of the Birth Right movement. He’s important to me.”
I nodded slowly and held her gaze. “Then he can ride with you.”
“You left him at the other end of the country.”
“And not by accident.” I tried not to lose my temper. “I should’ve turned him over to the police.”
She leaned back and considered me.
Paladin sensed the tension and turned his attention elsewhere. Another toast went up.
Arrianne and I remained locked in our staring contest. I said, “Why are you so keen to have a murderer on your team?”
“Why did you date a murderer?” She leaned forward and squeezed her breasts between her arms, presenting some impressive cleavage. “That tabloid didn’t paint a flattering picture of your girl.”
I leaned back and poured two glasses of Pacharán. I handed one to Arrianne. “The man who raped Jenny got off on a technicality and came back for a second round. She shot him through the eye. Tell me something, Arrianne, in the same situation, would you have done what Jesus commanded you to do—forgive your rapist?”
She lost the staring contest to avoid answering. We sipped our drinks and breathed. Already squeezed awkwardly at the corner of the table between Paladin and me, she scooted in a notch. In the tight positioning of chairs, her knees went between mine. She let her left leg brush the inside of my knee. Jenny’s memory began to fade. I took a deep breath.
Mercury leaned between us with a towel draped over one arm and carrying a silver tray full of dog shit on toast. She’s giving you the whole show, dawg. Can you keep your eyes on hers? Or will you sneak a peek at the goods?
I said, I won’t fall for it.
Mercury said, If you show her a good time tonight, you can reap the rewards of pillow talk.
I said, She’s trying to get something out of me. She’s not foolish enough to climb in bed for it.
Mercury said, Desire makes people foolish. She desires you—that foolish girl.
I said, And I desire Jenny. No one gets what they want.
Jenny’s words floated through my brain like a torch song. Don’t wait for me, Jacob. I’m not playing a game here. I don’t want to be pursued.
Arrianne took a long time composing her next topic. When she was ready, she ran a fingernail down my forearm. “Birth Right is not made up of the kind of people who ride around in private jets. My parents raised us in the gig economy. Dad was an accountant. He was replaced. Now he drives for Uber and cleans offices. Mom’s job went to Shanghai, and she went to the pills. Overdosed.” Arrianne grabbed my wrist. “We’re being invaded. We’re being replaced. I won’t stand by and let my people be slaughtered. I have a plan, and Caleb is part of it. I need you to find him and bring him back.”
“Caleb tried to stab a man in the back at 35,000 feet. If he shows up for training tomorrow, Aleksei will gut him.” I took her hand off my wrist. “I’ll side with Aleksei.”
“Caleb won’t be there. His team has been training for the last three days so they could get ahead of schedule. We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon for a business trip.”
That took me by surprise as much as it did Merc
ury. My personal god said, That means they were the ones who made all the markings about London. If they leave early tomorrow, where will they be going, bro? Betcha a thousand aurei they be going to what Londoners call the Square Mile.
I said, I’m not taking that bet. How can I find out?
Mercury said, You have a way.
I said, I’m not sleeping with her.
Mercury rolled his eyes. I get it, bro, you’re saving yourself for the return of Saint Jenny—or the next Ice Age. You have other ways that will suit your Victorian morals and get the info you need.
I said, You’re right. I need to get word to Miguel and Tania. Their directional mics won’t pick up this conversation. How the hell am I going to call them?
Mercury tapped my forehead with one finger. Think. I know that’s hard for you, homie, but you can do it if you try.
“Where are you going?” I asked Arrianne.
She smiled and leaned in close enough for a kiss. Almost. “I have a business trip. I have to pay for my fashion habit, you know. I need my people—especially Caleb—with me.” Her warm breath smelled fresh despite the booze. “We’ll be back in two days. You must help me get Caleb back here before our flight out of Seville leaves. It’s not a big airport. They don’t have flights every day. You took him north; don’t you feel responsible for bringing him back?”
She stroked my cheek with her fingertips. Several of the guys at the table stopped talking. They watched us. Aleksei said something in Russian then translated it, “Get a room!”
Everyone laughed. Paladin looked at us, saw everyone staring, then proposed a toast to distract the others.
“You really are my hero, you know.” She ran her fingertips down my neck. “You were so brave in Saint-Sulpice. I’ve never met a man with the courage to take on two heavily armed men—and defeat them. That kind of selfless valor makes me …”
She closed her eyes and inhaled.
“I had the impression those men in Paris were connected to Birth Right.” I watched her shock and gauged her reaction. “Weren’t they friends of yours?”
