Chapter 43
It feels strange to be flying a mission in the daylight.
Every time I’ve flown with Gray, it’s been late at night shrouded by darkness.
Today, it’s morning, and we’re in the hybrid—Gray and Evlynne in the cockpit, and me in the jump seat, nervously tapping my foot against the floor even though Gray assured me that nobody is going to shoot us out of the sky.
Supposedly, we’re invisible, but I feel way too exposed with the sunlight pouring through the window.
Still, I’m certainly not going to complain about being chosen for this mission. This is what I begged for.
“How do you know it’s working?” I ask him. “The radar jammer?”
“Because my radar is down, too,” he says without turning around.
Great. Even in the daylight, we’re still flying blind.
Evlynne checks their instruments, calling out numbers that I think are airspeed and altitude. They’re using some kind of manual mode that isn’t affected by the jammer, so only our radar is affected.
“We’ll switch it back on when we near the drop zone,” he adds. “The jammer keeps us safe from the island’s detection system, but we need that radar for our nav to load. We can’t land in the wrong spot, or we’ll be facing down a Tierran army.”
I start tapping my fingers now. A fast drumbeat against my knee. “But if you turn the radar back on, won’t that mean they’ll be able to see us?”
“Not immediately,” Evlynne says, sounding bored.
She’s never excited to speak to me, although she has been a tad less antagonistic since I saw her and Fisher in the valley.
“It’ll take about five minutes for their radar system to reboot.
So as long as we get on the ground during that five-minute window and then kill the plane’s transponder, they shouldn’t be able to detect us. ”
I shift in my seat, my shoe knocking into the rifle case at my feet. Evlynne will be my spotter, which I don’t love, but Adrienne is today’s mission lead and she’s the one who picked the assignments.
“All right, drop zone should be over the next ridge,” Gray says, scanning the horizon line.
We’re in Dey Province, at the northern tip of the continent.
My research last night revealed that this stretch of land is mostly jungle and hilly terrain.
At this time of year, the climate is mostly dry, but apparently it’s been dry out of season, too.
They only recently started getting rain again after a long bout of drought.
He turns to eye me. “You okay?”
“Always.”
His lips curve in a half smile, and he scratches the side of his jaw, directing my attention to the beard growth there.
“Are you growing facial hair?” I demand.
“Why, does it look sexy?”
“Very rugged,” I tell him. He does wear it well, with that defined jawline. I’m into the flight suit, too. Dark gray, accentuating his tall, muscular frame.
“How about we don’t do that?” Evlynne asks politely.
“Do what?” Gray asks as I admire how his strong fingers manipulate the controls. He’s in his element, exuding confidence.
“Flirt in front of me,” she mutters.
“That was like the most harmless amount of flirting. Don’t be a prude, Ev.” He adjusts the throttle. “All right. Turn it off.”
There’s a click, and then she says, “Jammer is…off. Five-minute countdown starts now.”
I fucking hate countdowns.
Gray begins our descent. It’s slow and controlled, the engines barely making a sound as the hybrid moves lower and lower toward a canopy of various shades of green. I tighten the straps of my pack.
“Two minutes,” Evlynne warns. “Get us down, Gray.”
“Almost there,” he murmurs, watching his instruments.
I check that my earpiece is secure. Evlynne and I can communicate telepathically, but Gray needs the comm. Earlier, Adrienne called our security detail a “formality,” but it feels pretty damn serious to me.
“Get ready to move,” he tells us.
The plane dips suddenly, and my stomach lurches.
I tighten my grip on the sides of my seat, bracing myself.
The ground comes up fast, a flat stretch of dried, brown grass.
The belly of the plane grazes the treetops, scratching at the metal like fingernails.
Then we level out and, seconds later, touch down with a soft jolt.
Gray wastes no time flicking switches. “Transponder’s off. I think we’re good.”
Evlynne slides the back door open, reaching for her own pack. “Let’s go,” she barks at me.
I sling the rifle case over my shoulder and check that my sidearm and two knives are securely sheathed.
Then I hop out and study our surroundings.
The air smells different here, the scent of salt, tropical blooms, and earth filling my nostrils.
And the humidity is intense. I’m sweating and we haven’t even taken one step yet.
I eye the thin stretch of trees, which grow thicker farther out. There’s so much green. It’s gorgeous.
Gray stops me before I can go, his fingertips stroking my cheek.
“Radio at the first sign of trouble,” he says softly.
“I will.”
I’m tempted to kiss him, but I can’t with Evlynne’s angry eyes on us.
I feel Adrienne’s energy signature in my head. She’s our silent contact, since she can’t use an earpiece.
“Darlington, report.”
“We’re here. Getting in position now. What’s your ETA?”
“Twenty minutes.”
Out loud, I report, “Adrienne and her team are twenty minutes out.”
Gray nods. “Keep your comms on.”
“Are you two still eye-fucking each other, or can we go now?” Evlynne’s voice is snide.
I follow her toward the tree line. She takes the lead, rifle up, scanning the area. I rely on my handgun. My sniper rifle is too cumbersome for a jungle trek.
We move through the trees. According to our maps, the jungle ends in less than a mile, a sharp veer to higher ground.
The spot offers a perfect vantage point overlooking the airfield.
It’s just past the port of entry—and from what I’ve heard, entry is rarely granted.
I remember Betima telling us that her father was a fisherman who’d gotten caught in a storm once.
When the Tierran navy found him, they wouldn’t even let him and his men step foot on land.
They forced them to stay in the port until the Uprising was able to provide a pickup for them.
It’s even more humid in the jungle, and I’m soaked in sweat by the time we reach the break in the trees. This oppressive humidity is obnoxious. I feel like I’m swaddled in a damp blanket, my ponytail sticking to my neck, my forehead beading with sweat.
Rather than Adrienne, it’s Saint who checks in. “Touching down in five.”
That gives us plenty of time to set up. I assemble my rifle, snapping the scope into place. The range on this thing is phenomenal. The airfield is a mile below us. Easy. I could probably hit a target twice that far with this weapon.
My only concern is that we don’t have much cover here. To anyone glancing toward us from below, we’re well hidden behind the craggy shelf. But anyone deciding to take a stroll in the trees behind us could stumble out of the jungle and come across us. This needs to be fast.
Tension fills my chest as we wait for the Uprising aircraft.
Finally, I see it cutting through the clear sky, the sleek gray chopper that collected Xavier and me after we emerged from the Blacklands.
Henley is piloting, and Saint is covering Adrienne.
The Tierra Fe commander made it clear she was only allowed to bring one escort, hence our stealthy security detail in the hills.
“We’re in position,” Evlynne reports to Gray.
“Once our bird lands, I’m switching the jammer back on, in case we need to make a hasty escape.”
I scan the area. The shadows of the thick jungle, the waves lapping against the wooden pillars of the port. The ocean fascinates me, probably because I grew up on a ranch with acres of land and no salt water in sight. Uncle Jim took me to see the ocean once, and I was enchanted by it.
Seeing it again now catches my breath the same way it did the first time.
The water is a vivid turquoise in shallower stretches and a dark blue-gray in the deeper parts.
The coastline is breathtaking, with jagged cliffs rising from the sea and waves crashing against the shore in a never-ending ebb and flow that’s almost hypnotic.
I breathe in the scent of salt and brine. The air smells earthier now, mingling with the salty breeze off the ocean and the balmier one off the mountain.
“Why is this island so quiet?” I murmur. “It’s really unnerving.”
“This isn’t an island,” is Evlynne’s response, accompanied by the roll of her eyes.
“Whatever. You know what I mean. It’s quiet.”
The uneasy silence drags on. I go on alert when our chopper lands, peering into the scope.
Evlynne sweeps the binoculars over the landscape. “They’ve got company.”
An olive-green, open-top truck speeds down a paved road, driving through a barrier and then continuing down to the port.
“Who do you think they’re sending to meet her?” I ask her. “Surely it wouldn’t be President Ramos?”
“Doubtful. The Tierrans are the most distrustful people you’ll ever meet. They’re not placing their leader in the line of fire.”
“Have you been here before?”
“Once. We ran a mission not long after I got to the Dagger.” Her tone is grudging, as if she hates that she’s confiding in me of all people.
“Only my second time as air lead. I was flying Kallister out. Terrified they would shoot us out of the sky. But they let us land and listened to Kallister’s trade pitch.
He was trying to negotiate a deal for synthetic glenshade, but they don’t believe in synth here.
Everything is natural. Very Old Era of them.
Anyway, they sent us on our way, and I haven’t been back since. ”
The truck pulls to a stop. I magnify the scope to see a man in a green uniform consisting of a button-up shirt tucked into a pair of trousers. He has thick black hair and narrow features, and is flanked by four armed soldiers.