In that moment everything changed. The fear turned inside out and became awe. She felt tiny, yes, but tiny against the vastness of existence. And she was not afraid. Knowing how small she stood in comparison to the universe only piqued her curiosity.
She saw the Earth's curve bending to the horizon in every direction. She saw the sky curving in tandem and the heavens of clouds and stars and beyond looking down on it all. For maybe the first time in her life she saw the world for what it was: a planet spinning through space around a star that was one of billions in one of a billion galaxies.
Oh, what a vision!
Annabelle Stacy took every ounce of it in: everything she could see in the dark plus everything she knew was out there, just beyond her line of sight. The enormity of life and every amazing piece of the puzzle, waiting for her to find and understand. This was why she had accepted General Friez's offer, for this moment and the promise of many more like it.
Danger? Yes. But danger coupled with discovery.
Fear? Yes. And exhilaration like few human beings would ever know.
She thought of her parents back home in New York. What were they doing right now? Her mother was probably teaching at the elementary school, her father on the road for a sales call.
What if they knew? What if they knew what their daughter was doing right at this very moment?
Mom would be terrified. She would only see the ground rushing toward her at 126 miles per hour. She would think of everything that could go wrong, from a chute malfunctioning to hitting a tree on final descent. Mom is a worrier; that's her nature.
But Daddy, oh, Daddy, if you could see me now! Look at the world! It's so huge and there is so much in it and it's all just a tiny little speck in a universe that reaches to infinity!
Go and find it all, Annie-girl, he had said so many times. Live.
Miss you, Daddy.
WHAM!
The air thickened and a howl of wind surrounded her decent. Buckles and hooks jingled and rattled; the helmet shook and she felt her bundle of gear whip about on its tether.
Breathe.
She felt the speed now. Terminal velocity. The Earth pulling. She struggled to keep her belly down and arms spread. There was not much she could do — she was at the mercy of the open sky. Yet she held her posture in check.
Dr. Stacy turned her head side to side, searching for her compatriots. She thought she saw something … the figure of a man below and to her right. That would be Wells. But she could not be sure. The only background was black, and they all wore suits as dark as the night surrounding them.
A thin film of condensation formed on the interior of her visor; a fog from her excited, sharp exhales.
Breathe, you stupid girl!
In-out-in-out … in …out …. In …
Out.
That's it. Okay, okay, I'm good. All good. Easy. No problem. I've … I've got this.
Annabelle looked for her target. The island stayed out of focus but she easily saw the cluster of lights marking the village center. She knew she had to aim below those lights. The beach and the fields would be there.
To the north? A volcano.
Not as good.
The island's lights grew larger than pinpricks. In their glow she spied a handful of buildings hidden amidst palm trees.
Stacy glanced at the altimeter on her wrist: ten thousand feet and falling fast.
She braced herself. In a few moments her chute would open. She had reached the moment when so much could go wrong. Falling came easy. It was the stopping that presented the most opportunities for disaster. Even if everything opened as planned, the jolt could snap her neck or tear her harness free or—
Shut up!
The altimeter spun below four thousand feet.
Suddenly her shoulders were nearly ripped from her body. The straps dug through her suit and grabbed her with leather claws. It felt as if the drag would pull off her entire suit. The tether grew taught as the kit of equipment tried to remain at speed.
Even through the muffled sound of her helmet she heard the flapping and stretching of the ram-air canopy. She waited to hear a tear … a rip … the snap of a line.
She slowed.
No fatal error. No equipment failure. The chute deployed as programmed and her speed lessened. The wind calmed. But the tug of gravity remained.
The village lights stretched off in the distance as she neared the ground. Below her feet she saw dark … and perhaps the glint of something … yes, the whitecaps of rolling waves.
Dr. Stacy tugged on the guide wires. A slight course correction. The whitecaps moved behind her. The ground … something moved … yes, the sway of high grass in a gentle breeze.
After having traveled so fast for so far, the final feet of decent felt deceptively gentle. That gentleness gave way when her boots hit with speed and force. She bent her knees and let her body roll across the moist ground covered in swampy grass. Her chute tried to drag her downwind but Stacy gained control of her person and her equipment.
Touchdown.
Far overhead above those cotton-white clouds, the C-17 banked as the rear cargo hatch sealed shut with a mechanical hiss. A moment later another hiss: the sound of the interior repressurizing.
Sergeant Franco moved through the plane, where he had shared eight hours of travel with his now-departed comrades. The pilot's voice crackled in his earpiece: "Radio for you. Patching it back on the speaker."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Franco yanked a tuft of polypropylene from the crack of his ass. "These friggin' suits are too friggin' tight," he complained to no one as he reached the transmitter.
"Go ahead."
The calm and steady voice of Captain Campion came over the speaker, yet no matter how calm and steady that voice, it always irritated the sergeant.
"What's your status there?"
"They've debarked. Can't confirm insertion so we're just going to hope they hit the mark."
"Hope?"
"Well what the hell, Captain? My orders were not to initiate radio contact and to avoid detection. You giving me new orders?"
"Negative."
"Then why the call?"
Campion: "Stay on station and keep your eyes and ears open."
"Christ, we can't see dick from up here but you still want me to fly around in circles?"
"Roger that."
"I'm telling you the Russians could have four battalions and a three-ring circus down there and we wouldn't know it. Besides, we're borderline bingo on fuel as it is. This has been one long haul."
"Stay on station as long as you can. Anything else?"
"Yeah," Franco sneered. "Wish you were here."
5
Major Gant led the trio of infiltrators through the overgrowth. They hovered just outside a sphere of illumination cast by a spotlight beaming from a white stucco building. The black color of their clothing matched the dark night but the bulkiness of the MOPP protective gear over their standard BDUs created a variety of issues for a stealth mission.
The lack of information in regard to the threat on the island meant that as soon as they hit the ground, all three switched over to full-blown MOPP 4 protection. That meant gas masks, heavy gloves, boots, and an overgarment that looked something like a hooded poncho.
The army manual claimed maximum airflow and comfort thanks to state-of-the art fabrics and materials. Gant did not agree with the army manual on this one.
Jupiter Wells carried a SCAR-H battle rifle while Gant used a standard M4, both with rather thick sound suppressors affixed to the barrels. Dr. Stacy wielded a more complex weapon: a blue and black rectangular contraption slightly larger than a big flashlight.