Push To Target (Navy SEAL Grant Stevens Book 15) by Jamie Fredric

Author:Jamie Fredric
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2018-06-26T23:00:00+00:00

Aboard the Herc

Over the Bay of Biscay

2330 Hours

Kalinin stood close to the controls, near the raised ramp, as his eyes went to each of his teammates. Slade leaned closer to him. "Don't worry, Nick, I'll make sure you don't fuck up."

Kalinin responded with a grin, then speaking above the engine noise, he shouted, "Be safe, guys!" Each man signaled with thumb's up.

Immediately after hearing Garrett's voice in his headset, he announced, "At twenty-four thousand! Depressurizing!"

The men snapped their aviator-style masks to their helmets, adjusted the O2 flowing from belt tanks, adjusted goggles. They quickly went through final checks again, repeating the entire process, ensuring the integrity of fasteners on the ram-air chutes, checking the reserve chutes, giving the crotch straps one more tug. NVGs were raised and locked in place. Weapons were secured.

Kalinin updated Garrett and Draper, advising them he was prepared to lower the ramp. Interior lights were extinguished, except for green lights illuminating the flight deck, and small red lights along the cargo bay.

The sound of the four turboprop engines changed, as Garrett started deceleration, bringing the speed down to 130 knots. Kalinin hit the switch. A loud, high-pitched motor sounded, and the ramp started lowering. The noise from four turboprop engines increased. A tremendous rush of cold air, a smell of jet fuel swept through the cargo bay. Once the ramp was fully lowered, Kalinin tugged on the safety harness. The training Slade, Garrett and Draper gave him had been etched on his brain. He cautiously walked onto the ramp, then made visual inspections of both sides and the locking mechanisms, while under the watchful eye of Slade.

Satisfied the ramp was secured, he moved back toward the control panel, alerting Garrett and Draper.

It was time for the men of Alpha Tango to keep their eyes on Kalinin, who glanced at his watch then held up two fingers. Two minutes to jump. The Team attached their rucksacks to their reserve chutes. Grouped in close proximity to one another, they each mentally pictured the jump, and trying to stay loose, they rolled their shoulders, stretched their arms overhead. Twenty-four thousand feet below was nothing but the blackness of the Bay of Biscay. They'd be under canopy for nearly twenty miles. They were ready.

The Herc began a slow, wide turn. As it did, city and town lights along the Spanish coast glowed against the horizon.

Kalinin got the Team's attention then held up a fist. Thirty seconds until jump. With Grant taking the lead, the Team moved onto the ramp, maintaining their balance with their legs spread. The Herc shuddered as it flew through brief patches of turbulence.

Then, getting final confirmation from Draper, Kalinin folded his arm across his chest, and in one swift motion, swung his arm out to the side, and pointing to the exit, shouted, "Go! Go! Go!"

With adrenaline surging, the men dove head first within seconds of one another, falling into the dark emptiness. A tremendous blast of cold air pressed against their bodies, as a sound of wind whistled by.

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