White Jade

Chapter Thirty-Four

At Dyess Air Force Base an armed security escort met their plane. Brilliant lights lit the tarmac. A B-1B Lancer waited nearby.

Men transferred their gear under the watchful eye of a sergeant. The air smelled of rubber, jet fuel and Texas sage. The detail commander was a young Lieutenant wearing pilot's wings on his fatigues. His name tag said Markham. He saluted.

"Welcome to the 7th Bomb Wing, Colonel. You'll be ready to go within the hour."

Carter returned the salute. "Thank you, Lieutenant. We're looking forward to the ride."

"Ever been in a B1 before?"

"No."

"It's a hell of an airplane, great avionics and defensive measures. Top speed is Mach 1.2, but we can come in at a hundred and twenty knots at low altitude and lay in precision targeting. You'll be flying in one modified for combat drops of personnel and equipment."

He looked around. "Where's the rest of your team?"

"You're looking at it. Just the three of us."

Carter saw him note the lack of insignia on their uniforms. They had no jump insignia, unit flashes or name tags, just rank markings, and Selena didn't even have those. Lieutenant Markham started to say something, thought better of it.

"Right, sir. Your jumpmaster is Senior Master Sergeant Johannsen. Once you're in the aircraft, he's your boss. He'll make sure you're checked out and everything is a go for the jump. You've jumped before?"

He glanced at Selena.

"We have. Is that Sergeant Johannsen I see coming?"

The man moving toward them was compact, about five nine and a hundred and sixty pounds. He was dressed in flight gear and wore a radio helmet. Johannsen moved with purpose, tight as a spring, with no wasted energy. He had eyes of pale blue ice and the look that comes from a lot of years in the service. Nick relaxed a little. They were in the hands of a pro. He saluted and gave them the once over. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Selena, but he said nothing.

Lieutenant Markham said, "They're all yours, Sergeant. Colonel, come back safe."

Markham saluted, got in his jeep and drove away. Sergeant Johannsen gestured at the bomber.

"Follow me, sir."

They walked to the plane and climbed in. It was hot in the Texas humidity but things would cool off soon enough.

The Humvee was lashed to a pallet near the converted bomb bay. The chute was being rigged by four airmen in flight gear. Johannsen took three chutes from a locker.

"I packed these myself, Colonel. You may not have used one before."

"It looks different."

"This is the High Altitude Precision Parachute System, HAPPS for short. This is the stealth model, no one will see you from the ground."

"It looks like a skydiving chute, but it's got more attachments on it." That was Selena.

Johannsen eyed the lack of jump insignia on her uniform. "You've jumped before?"

"Over seventy jumps. Seventy-two, to be exact. But maybe you could show me the ropes on this unit."

It was the right thing to say. Nick saw Johannsen relax a little. It was more than rare to see a woman on a special ops mission. Male chauvinism aside, everyone felt responsible for success, even when they didn't know what the mission was about. Johannsen would be lax in his duty if he weren't concerned. His job was to get everyone out of the plane safely. After that it was up to the three of them.

They put on the chutes under Johannsen's direction. He checked each one, pulling the harness tight. When it was Selena's turn, he paused.

"The harness is pretty tight. You might feel some pinching — umm — across your chest."

"Go for it."

He cinched it up and Selena gasped.

"This is your main cord. This is your reserve cord, here. The chute is fully steerable. You'll have oxygen, here."

He attached oxygen dispensers to the chutes. Then he brought three devices that looked like wristwatches out of a compartment.

"Put these on. This is the MA3-30 altimeter. It tells you everything you need to know. It's got a light switch and you adjust here and here."

Ronnie and Nick had used them before, but it was new for Selena.

"Set your altitude before you jump and we'll get you onto the drop zone with airspeed and timing. Your vehicle goes first, then you three. We're going to drop you from 23,000 feet. That gives you around 8,000 feet before you hit the ground, so you won't be up too long."

"Piece of cake."

"That's right, Gunny. Give it five after you go out and pull, and you'll be floating down softer than a balloon at a kid's birthday party. You'll be on the ground in no time. Let's get your packs on."

They strapped on the packs, low in front. When he was satisfied with the rigging, Johannsen reached down into the compartment again and came up with masks and insulated gloves. The pilot was warming up the engines. Johannsen held his hand to his helmet for a moment.

"Two minutes. Let's get you settled."

He led them toward the center of the aircraft. Strap benches lined the fuselage. The four airmen were already seated on the port side. The team took seats starboard and strapped in. Johannsen strapped in across from them and said something into his mike. The roar of eight big GE turbofans increased and the plane began to move.

Party time.