Ghost Flight

21

Watches synched, Jaeger stepped towards his parachute pack. He wriggled into the harness, pulled the straps taut, then closed the heavy metal chest buckle with a solid thunk. Lastly, he tightened the restraining loops around his thighs. He now had the equivalent of a large sack of coal strapped to his back, and this was only the beginning.

When they’d first pioneered HAHO jumps they’d done so using a system whereby the jumper’s heavy rucksack was strapped to his back along with his chute. But that had made the jumper overwhelmingly backside-heavy. If for any number of reasons he lost consciousness during the jump, having all the weight on his back would invert him during the freefall.

The parachute was set to open automatically at a certain altitude, but if the jumper had blacked out and was falling on his back, it would open beneath him. He would drop through his own chute, which would wrap around him like a bundle of damp washing, and jumper and chute would plummet to earth like a stone.

Thankfully, Jaeger and his team were using a far newer system – the BT80. With the BT80, the heavy rucksack hung in a tough canvas bag, strapped to the jumper’s front. That way, if he blacked out, the weight would force him to fall front-first, with his face towards the earth. When the chute was triggered automatically, it would open above him – an absolute lifesaver.

The PDs fussed around Jaeger, tightening straps and making minute adjustments to the load he was carrying. This was vital. On a jump such as this, they’d drift under the chutes for anything up to an hour. If the weight was unbalanced or the straps loose, the whole lot would shift and swing about, rubbing flesh bloody and raw, and throwing the descent off-balance.

The last thing Jaeger needed was to hit the jungle with a sore and shredded groin or shoulders. In the hot and humid conditions, wounds would fester. Any such injury could spell endex – end of expedition – for the victim.

Jaeger pulled on his chunky para-helmet. The PDs strapped his personal oxygen tank to his chest and passed him his mask, which was linked to his oxygen canister by a ribbed rubber tube. He pressed the mask into his face and took a sharp intake of breath, to check that it made a good, airtight seal.

At 30,000 feet, there was little if any oxygen.

If the breather system failed for just a few seconds, he’d be a dead man.

Jaeger felt a wild rush of euphoria – the pure, cold oxygen surging into his brain. He pulled on his leather gauntlets, followed by thick Gore-Tex overgloves, to protect against the biting cold once under canopy at high altitude.

He’d jump with his weapon – a standard Benelli M4 combat shotgun with a folding stock – slung over his left shoulder, barrel downwards, and strapped to his person. It was always possible that during the jump you’d lose your backpack, in which case it was vital to still have your main weapon securely to hand.

Jaeger wasn’t expecting a hostile force to be present on the ground this time, but there was that uncontacted tribe to contend with – the Amahuaca Indians. The last sign they’d given of their presence was when they’d shot poison-tipped arrows at a group of gold prospectors who’d strayed into their forest domain.

The miners had fled for their lives, barely living to tell the story.

Jaeger didn’t exactly blame the Indians for defending their territory so resolutely. If all the outside world ever brought them was illegal gold mining, and most likely logging as well, his sympathies lay fully with the Indians – for mining and logging would cause pollution and the destruction of their forest home.

But it meant that any outsider who trespassed into the Indians’ territory – Jaeger and his team included – was bound to be seen as hostile, especially when they were dropping from the heavens right into the very heart of the tribe’s world. Truth was, Jaeger had no real idea what sort of enemy, if any, they might encounter once they hit the ground, but his training had taught him to always be prepared.

Hence why he had chosen the shotgun as his weapon. It was perfect for close-quarter combat in dense jungle. It fired off a wide cone of lead shot, so being able to see and target your enemy amongst the darkness and the vegetation wasn’t essential.

You just swung the muzzle in the general direction and let rip.