Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Declan
Sunday morning, we meet most of the crew at Whiteman Airport, only a short ride from Raven’s apartment. The other two women aren’t there, but Raven doesn’t find this strange.
Renner’s hired a seven-seater helicopter, and we fly out to Mojave.
“Going to start from five-thousand,” Cole tells us over the headsets, the rotor noise a steady background beat. “Focus for the first few jumps is a clean exit with good body position. If that goes well, tomorrow we’ll practice immediate opens.”
“We got a landing site?” Dario asks.
“Cammy and Tasha aren’t jumping, so they’ll set up a target ring.”
“Oh, that’s where they are.” Dario nods.
“They brought sun umbrellas, sandwiches, and a cooler of drinks,” Renner adds. He’s leaning back in his seat, eyes closed, looking perfectly chilled. “Because I take care of you.”
“How many days are we getting up here?” I ask.
“Four,” Renner replies. “It’s twenty-five grand a day for this thing.” He taps the side of the helicopter without looking. “That’s the budget we have left.”
“We’ll be aggressively reducing the height through the week,” Cole tells us. “We’re jumping the next three days, have a rest on Wednesday, one more on Thursday. Friday we head up to San Fran. That gives us Saturday and Sunday for learning our routes.”
Except Raven and I have already made a start on that.
“Four days jumping, huh?” Raven says.
“We’ll need all of it.” Cole leans forward, his tone turning serious.
“BASE jumping is nothing like jumping from a plane. There’s no backup parachute and not enough altitude to deploy one even if we used them.
You pull the cord, it opens clean, or you’re street art with a heavy dose of crimson.
Remember, it won’t be open ground on the job.
Drift too far, you crash into a building.
Flare too late, you land in the middle of a road.
” He meets everyone’s eyes except Renner’s, who still has his closed.
“Now that we’re all clear on what happens when we get it wrong, let’s focus on getting it right. ”
That speech sets the mood, and though the group keeps up the banter, every jump is taken with the respect it deserves.
I’ve forgotten how much I don’t like jumping.
The wind whistling past, making my cheeks flap and ripple no matter how much I try to tighten them; the lurch when I pull the cord; the deeply uncomfortable sensation of sudden deceleration, my entire weight focused on two straps that run either side of my groin.
And the landing. On most of the jumps, I flare the ’chute, stalling the canopy and touching down gently with a little run. But fatigue takes its toll and I can’t get it right every time. When I don’t, the impact drives through my legs, and by day three, my thigh is on fire.
Cole watches me limping as I bundle up my ’chute, and strolls over to intercept me. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine.” There’s no other answer to give.
He nods. “You were three seconds to stabilize. Let’s aim for two.”
“Right.” I’ve been playing down my skills a little. I can’t be too good when I’m not supposed to have jumped for years.
Cole’s a hard taskmaster, but it’s not just me he’s riding, and the more experienced the jumper, the pickier he becomes. I think I’m doing okay; better than Dario, not as good as Renner. Raven, of course, is as natural at this as she is at everything, and she seems to be loving every minute of it.
She’s still not overlooked for Cole’s critique. “You’re bleeding altitude with unnecessary toggle input.”
“I was playing,” she says, tossing her bundle of silk over one shoulder.
Cole crosses his arms. “Every unnecessary turn costs you fifty feet. You only start with nine hundred.”
“Yes sir, Mister British Army, sir.”
But her next jump is even better, and she touches down lightly in the center of the circle, then turns to watch me come in, right behind her.
“Isn’t this fun?” she calls, as she collects her chute.
She’s missing some of the equipment that makes parachuting so uncomfortable for men, and after three days of it, my mood isn’t the best.
“Delightful,” I say, wincing as I gather billows of silk while it tries to catch any breeze.
“How’s your leg holding up?”
“Aching, but fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“We all worry, Declan. We’re a crew.”
“I’m holding my own,” I reply, perhaps a little defensive.
She leans in close. “Do the next two jumps into the center of the circle, and tonight I’ll hold it for you.”
On reflection, she’s way better at motivating than Cole is.
My next two jumps are perfect, and Raven grins as I land right next to her. “Are you just good at everything?”
“Funny, I was thinking that about you.”
“Pfft, as if,” she says, walking off. I’m certain her hips sway more than is strictly necessary.
Then I notice Renner watching me checking her ass. He’s standing there with his arms folded, face impassive, sunglasses hiding his eyes. Impossible to know what he’s thinking.
It kills my mood, too. I’ve managed to lose myself in three days of focus and Raven’s presence, and I haven’t given any thought to the bigger problem.
The heist is five days away. I have to find whatever it is he wants, and leave the vault with it in my bag.
If I somehow make that work, what will happen then?
Every evening, the helicopter drops us back to Whiteman. Riding home is what I look forward to the most. Not just because it’s good to be on my bike, but because it’s a relief not to be jumping anymore. And it means time with Raven.
She watches me as I straddle my bike, favoring my leg. Her gaze is full of concern, but she doesn’t say anything.
“It’s fine,” I say, in reply to her unasked question. “Grateful for a day of rest tomorrow.”
Her expression turns thoughtful. “Do you have any plans?”
I pause in the act of pulling on my helmet and gloves. “Not really. You?”
“I was thinking of taking a ride. Maybe one of the canyon roads.”
“Sounds good.” Frankly, I’d be happy to do anything with her.
“But then, that’s not resting your leg, is it?”
“No, but… I could manage an hour or two on the bikes.”
“Maybe we should lounge around at home, watch old movies, and stuff ourselves with pizza.”
It’s a nice suggestion, but she doesn’t sound like her heart’s in it. “Maybe we should head up to Franco’s, grab some lunch, and have a rematch on our game of pool.”
Her grin is a thing of beauty, and her eyes sparkle. “You’re on, Romeo. But you’re going down. I’m better than you.”
“Better than me at pool?”
“You betcha.”
“And riding?”
“Better believe it.”
I nod sagely. “And parachute jumping?”
“Uh-huh,” she says slowly, catching on.
“So you are just good at everything.”
She narrows her eyes. “Don’t put me on a pedestal, Declan.”
“Put you across my knee.”
“Yeah.” She nods. “Do that, instead.”
Then she slaps her visor closed and rides off.
I grin, kick my bike into gear, and chase her.
“Two days left,” Cole tells us in the chopper on Thursday morning, his voice crackling through my headset. “We’re focusing on speed and accuracy. Fifteen-hundred feet is the jump height, immediate deployment. And Cammy’s set a ring target for us to land in.”
Raven adjusts her mic. “Prizes for closest to the bull?”
I grin at her competitiveness, my own rising to meet it.
“Ten jumps today,” Dario drawls. “Hundred bucks on the closest? Who’s in?”
“Sure,” I agree. It’s cheaper to blow a hundred bucks than it is to back out and lose face, and Dario knows it. Besides, he won’t be the one to beat.
“I’m in.” Raven doesn’t hesitate.
Renner gestures with a hand to signal his agreement, eyes closed as usual, and Cole smiles. “Fine. I don’t mind getting paid for my time.”
“Shit, dude, you’re the instructor,” Dario protests. “You don’t get to play.”
“I’m still jumping, so it still applies.”
Dario’s mutter is lost in the crackle of the headsets.
Cole is as good as he’s cracked up to be, landing perfectly in the center of the circle on his first attempt. Raven touches down only a few feet out, and my landing isn’t bad, but I have to bleed off speed with a run to take the pressure off my leg, and that apparently doesn’t count.
Everyone’s focused on the next few jumps, the competition bringing out the best in us, and while it’s clear Cole’s going to win, second place is up for grabs. Raven’s slightly in the lead, Renner and I not far behind, Dario bringing up the rear but not doing badly.
After forty-odd jumps this week, we’re all proficient.
But that doesn’t stop Renner ambling over to me as we break for a bottle of beer at lunch, while Raven happens to be talking to Cammy and Tasha.
“You’re better than I expected,” he says.
“Thank you.” I try to keep my tone light and not guarded.
“Did you jump with the Marines?”
No. “A little, yes.”
“Much in the last few years?”
Yes. “Not really, no.”
“Well, you’re full of surprises.”
I decide to go on the offensive before he takes too much initiative. “Were you hoping I wasn’t up to it, Kurt?”
He’s not in a hurry to answer. He takes a sip of his beer, looking out over the desert. Then meets my eyes. “My only interest is the crew, each and every one of them.”
This is a Raven thing again. “Does that include me?”
“It does if you commit to this group.” He pauses to let that sink in. “Do you?”
No. Not even slightly.
I know I should lie and say yes, but I hesitate too long.
“That’s what I thought.” He takes another swig, flicking his bottle up, then waves it at me as he talks. “I think you have your own answer for why I hoped you wouldn’t be here, Declan. But don’t get me wrong; I’m glad you are. You’re a good man.”
My eyebrows go up at that. Kurt Renner calling me a good man?
“How do you figure?”
“Raven likes you,” he says. “That’s enough for me.”
“Yeah? I’m not the first man she’s liked. What happened to them?”
He smiles slowly. “First, she’s older now, and she’s learned.
I trust her decisions more than back then, and I think she’s starting to trust them too.
And second…” he shrugs one shoulder, “…I could use this moment to remind you what’ll happen if you treat her badly, but I’ve also had time to form my own opinion. I think you’re a good man.”
That’s even more of a surprise.
“A little confused,” Kurt continues, “but a good man at heart.”
“Confused?” I echo.
“Like you haven’t decided where you belong.” His bottle makes a circle in the air. “Just my impression. Maybe I’m wrong.”
He’s not wrong; he is too perceptive.
“Have you figured out what you’re going to do?” he asks.
“About what?” I can hear the defensiveness in my own tone. It’s partly because of the double meaning in this whole damn conversation, and partly my fear that I’m not the only one that knows it’s there. Is Renner just making nice, or does he suspect? If so, how much?
“About where you belong,” he says, with an amused smile.
I look past him to where Raven’s laughing at a comment Cammy’s just made, and the truth is, I have absolutely no idea what the fuck I’m going to do, except that whatever it is, it centers around her.
“Make sure Raven’s safe,” I say.
Renner grips my shoulder in a friendly gesture, and leans in ever so slightly. “Good enough for me,” he says. “Knew you were smart.”
Friday, I bury myself in my thoughts, following Raven’s bike on the road up to San Fran.
We have comms, but I barely say anything to her.
Cole and Dario are on their bikes, but they’ve taken the I-5 with Cammy driving the others in the van. We’re alone again, on the 101, but I can’t concentrate on the view. I’m going through the motions.
Whatever happens, I need to come out of this with Raven. I’ve made that decision.
I can’t do that if I burn the crew and she finds out.
It fails if I keep my job, and she finds out.
If I do either, it’s only a matter of time until she finds out.
But neither can I resign and have no job, and nor can I take a million in uncut diamonds and expect the FBI to look the other way when I don’t want to play anymore.
I go around and around, but there’s just no fucking solution.
Am I really prepared to burn my whole life for a girl I’ve known only three weeks?
It’s rash, it’s impulsive, it’s so not me… but the answer’s yes. A resounding yes.
You’re a goddamn idiot, Declan.
Worse than that, if we’re to build a life together, I’m going to have to tell her. I know I am.
Will she trust me if I do?
I could end up screwing my whole damn career, then she leaves me anyway.
Fuck!
Can I lie to her? Forever?
Maybe I have to. Maybe that’s the only choice.
It only solves one part of the problem. I still have to get out of this clean, and I can’t see how.
Resign now? Before the job in two days?
That’s a choice I could make, but Mercer might move in on them anyway. She knows about Meridian Pacific; she could have a team waiting.
No, that’s not a route. And even if it was, it still leaves me with no job for the price of a clear conscience.
Fuck my conscience. It’s only Raven that matters.
It’s an almost liberating thought.
Fine… then I’ll do whatever I have to in order to get the result I want, that works for us. Whatever that might be.
I still don’t know what it is. I guess I’ll just… go along with it, for now.
Great plan, Declan.
Genesis Raven fucking Greer.
I knew that girl was trouble from the first day I met her.