Diary of a Teenage Superhero

by Darrell Pitt

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The plane is still high above the clouds by the time we make our jump. The man in the rear section with us is named Mr. Wilkerson. He’s short, red haired and burly and goes to great lengths to tell us his experience in parachuting. Ten years with the SAS. Four years as an instructor. He’s even fully trained to pilot a number of military aircraft.

  “You’ll be landing in the ocean, so just remember to keep your legs braced,” he says. “And hold your breath.”

  I nod. I doubt we will land in the ocean. I hope to scoop everyone together before we hit the water, but we’ve been told not to our powers with anyone. So I just nod.

  We’re dressed in identical gear. They’re a modified version of army fatigues. Obviously there’s no insignia. I feel as anonymous now as I did when I woke up in that hotel room with the dying Doctor Richards.

  We jump out one at a time into the early morning sky. Nobody looks confident. Even Chad looks scared to death, but there’s nothing any of us can do about it. As I jump, the wind catches me and I plummet toward earth. My chute opens with a jerk. Before I land I create a platform to grab everyone.

  Unfortunately I miss Chad. He lands some distance from us and we collect him, sputtering and choking, from the choppy waters.

  “Very clever,” he snaps.

  I shrug. “It was an accident.”

  Keeping low, we make our way to the island. The sun still hasn’t risen, but the sky is light. I want us to reach shore before we’re too visible. We eventually find an inlet at the end of the island most distant from the base. Chad has stopped dripping by the time we climb onto the shore.

  We examine our maps. We all have identical copies in case we become separated. I point out the best place for Chad and Dan to position themselves. Then we synchronize watches as we did the previous day. This time we’re carrying phones to stay in contact. We set a time for two hours hence, but we will check again when we reach the base.

  The lessons of the training exercise from the previous day are instantly obvious. I’m even appreciating the use of live ammunition. I dread to think how we would deal with this situation without completing a practice run.

  I’m under no illusion, however, as to our lack of experience. This sort of exercise should be carried out by an elite force of armed SAS soldiers – not a bunch of teenagers. I suppose that’s the problem with The Agency. They don’t like the idea of millions of people dying in a nuclear blast, but they’re not prepared to do very much about it either.

  The sun is just rising as we start working our way around the island. I feel terribly exposed on the shoreline, so after a few hundred feet I suggest to the girls that we move up the cliff face.

  “Don’t you think that’ll be more dangerous?” Brodie asks.

  “I think it’s more dangerous to be out here where everyone can see us.”

  We climb up the cliff and discover a path that traces the coastline. I wonder if it’s a trap, but then I realize the Typhoid agents need to move around Cayo Placetas as well. Still, we keep a close eye out for trip wires. We move slowly. After a few miles, Ebony grabs my arm. She urgently draws us into the undergrowth.

  No sooner are we hidden than a group of four men make their way past us down the track. They are fully armed with rifles and handguns. A symbol on their jackets resembles a spider web. After a few minutes the sound of their footsteps fades.

  “That was close,” Brodie whispers.

  “We’d better keep moving,” I say.

  We follow the path around the island. It splits into two at one point, but we keep to the trail that traces the coast. After another half hour the path starts to climb. This time I see something that makes me pause. There is a guard tower at the top of the hill. It gives a commanding view over the path and coastline.

  We’re stumped. Although I can’t see the complex, I can hear movement and traffic coming from our right. It seems to be the obvious direction in which to head so, keeping close to the ground, we navigate through the jungle. We meet a wide muddy road cutting across through the undergrowth. It looks like it leads directly into the compound. A truck roars past us. The guards at the entry point check the back and allow it to continue through into the facility.

  I begin to wonder if a more conventional form of entry might be the best method. The guard tower was constructed to watch the coast; it’s out of sight from the complex. No one is watching the tops of the vehicles. When the next truck heads past us toward the compound, I propel us softly onto the roof. The vehicle pauses for what seems an eternity at the gate. The men talk about a new shipment of arms. Then it continues on into the facility.

  I can see it’s heading to a warehouse, so we jump free and roll under the nearest building. There are guards everywhere. I’m not too sure how successful we’ll be at staying hidden. It only seems a matter of time before we’re discovered.

  Pulling out the map, we work out our current location. The computer room is still some distance away; at least a few hundred feet. It’s a shame it’s daylight. This might have been easier at night.

  “Take us up to the roof,” Ebony whispers. “Then we can hop from building to building.”

  That seems like a good idea. I wait until some guards wander past then fly us up and onto the roof. We flatten ourselves against the flat metal and slide quietly along the top until we reach the end. I fly us across to the next building and repeat the process two more times.

  I start to feel hopeful.

  With a lot of luck this might work. A large building lies before us. Checking our map again I work out that this is the computer complex. I glance over the edge of the roof and spy two guards at the front door. Obviously we’re not entering through there.

  I look at my watch. We still have a few minutes before Chad and Dan are due to create their diversion. At any rate we need to check in to confirm the time. I watch a truck weave its way through the jungle down the muddy road to the front gate. A guard jumps out and speaks to the gatekeeper. They both look in the back. One of them waves the truck through into the compound.

  I don’t know why, but my heart is beating faster. This doesn’t look good. The truck draws to a halt and they open up the back. More men race up to the vehicle and climb into the rear.

  When they exit, they’re carrying two bodies.

  It’s Chad and Dan.