93
Henderson
Icy air whooshes past my ears, drowning out the terrified roar of my heartbeat as we plummet through the pitch-black sky from thirty thousand feet. The night is on our side; the clouds hide even the faintest glow of moonlight.
My night vision goggles are strapped over my oxygen mask, and I see the four other figures next to me. We freefall for what seems like forever before I feel a violent jolt, and the parachutes above us deploy.
“There,” Danser says over the comms as the outlines of the treetops appear below. “That’s our landing spot.”
It’s a forested patch deep inside Esguerra’s compound, far from the guard towers at the perimeter. The main danger here are the drones that patrol the air, but thanks to the CIA’s latest gadget, I have a solution for that.
When we’re ri
