Chapter 18 - The Descent Through Fire
Two Dassault Rafale fighter jets appeared out of the cloud deck like predatory gray ghosts, flanking our small turboprop on both sides. Their navigation lights flashed an ominous warning pattern: *Follow or be intercepted.*
"They’re giving us thirty seconds to divert toward Lyon," Marcus said, his voice flat with lethal adrenaline. "Once we refuse, they have authorization to fire warning bursts."
"Can we outrun them?"
"In a King Air? Not a chance in hell," Marcus said. "Get your harness on! Now!"
I strapped the heavy parachute rig over my tactical vest, snapping the chest buckle tight until it dug into my collarbone. I checked the brass key once more, ensuring it was locked inside the inner waterproof pocket against my chest.
Marcus set the autopilot to a steep, descending spiral toward the jagged peaks of the Jura range. He rigged the engine mixture to maximum lean, deliberately inducing an engine backfire to create a thick plume of black smoke behind our tail.
"They'll think we’re experiencing catastrophic engine failure!" Marcus shouted over the deafening scream of the wind as he pulled the emergency cabin depressurization lever.
A blast of sub-zero alpine air tore through the cabin, ripping papers and loose gear into the freezing vortex outside. The force of the wind took my breath away, freezing the tears on my eyelashes instantly.
"Jump on my count!" Marcus yelled, kicking the rear cargo door open. Below us, through the breaks in the storm clouds, the snow-covered needles of the alpine forest looked like razor-sharp spears waiting in the darkness.
"Three! Two! One! Dive!"
May you like
I leaped into the abyss.
***
