Chapter 16 - Descent Over the Alps
The sub-zero wind shrieked through the open side door of the transport aircraft like a pack of starving wolves. At thirty-two thousand feet, the air was thin, biting, and utterly devoid of mercy.
Avery stood at the threshold of the jump door, his oxygen mask strapped tightly across his face, the HUD of his tactical night-vision goggles glowing in a soft, monochromatic green. Behind him, Reed and Brock strapped down their main static-line rigs with the practiced efficiency of men who had cheated gravity a hundred times before.
“Check gear!” Avery shouted through the internal comms channel.
“Green across the board!” Reed’s voice came back crisp and steady.
“Ready!” Brock echoed, though his breathing was noticeably accelerated through his regulator.
Avery gave a single sharp nod. He looked out into the abyss below. The Swiss Alps stretched out like jagged shards of black glass under the pale light of a crescent moon, half-obscured by a blanket of swirling cloud cover. The drop zone—the narrow rocky plateau directly above the Adler’s Nest chalet—was a postage stamp in a sea of vertical granite.
“On my mark... Three... Two... One... Go!”
Avery stepped off the ledge into the freezing void.
The initial acceleration was a breath-stealing rush as the air pressure mounted against his jumpsuit. For ten terrifying seconds, they plunged downward in a stable belly-to-earth freefall, the roar of the slipstream drowning out all other thought. The earth below rushed upward like a charging wall of stone and shadow.
At four thousand feet above ground level, Avery yanked his ripcord.
The deployment was a violent, shoulder-wrenching snap as the high-performance ram-air canopy blossomed overhead, arresting their descent and jerking them upright into a smooth, horizontal glide. Avery gripped the steering toggles, scanning the darkness for his teammates.
Two dark silhouettes materialized to his left and right—Reed and Brock, their canopies dark grey against the snow-covered slopes.
“Adjust heading two-degrees starboard! Wind shear coming off the ridge!” Avery called into his comms.
They banked hard to the right, sliding through the freezing mountain updrafts like hawks hunting in a gale. Ahead of them, nestled against the sheer rock face of the mountain like a predatory bird’s eyrie, the lights of the Adler’s Nest glowed warmly through large floor-to-ceiling glass windows.
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Avery flared his canopy at the last possible second, his boots skimming across the frozen slate tiles of the chalet’s upper viewing terrace before rolling smoothly to a halt behind a stone decorative planter. Reed landed gracefully beside him, his canopy collapsing instantly into the snow. Brock hit the terrace a second later with a slightly heavier thud, scrambling quickly behind a stone pillar to unclip his harness.
“We’re in,” Avery whispered, drawing his sidearm and checking the chamber. “Let’s move.”
