DropZone by Andy McNab Page B

adrenaline rip through him, and started the countdown in his head.
    Five . . .
    He began to run through everything he’d been taught by Sam and Johnny: how to exit, how to arch his back to flip over and stabilize in flight.
    Four . . .
    He rehearsed how to deploy his canopy, and what to do if he had to cut away.
    Three . . .
    His dad’s face flickered momentarily in his mind, telling him he was a waster, a mistake. But Ethan knew better now; knew just how wrong his dad was, had always been. He pushed the image away.
    Two . . .
    He focused on the sense of self-belief and purpose that Johnny and Sam had given him. Skydiving was fast taking over his life. He was determined to be the best.
    One . . .
    He knew he could do it. He wasn’t backing out now. Time to focus . . .
    Zero . . .
    Ethan jumped . . .
    . . . and his exit was smooth. He fell from the plane, saw it above him, arched his back to flip himself over and stabilize. The view was more vivid than on any other dive he’d done, like he was even more aware of what was around him because he was up there alone.
    Shit, I’m alone . . . Ethan felt his face break into a smile. He beamed. And then he laughed.
    This is it! I’m really skydiving! YES!
    He checked his altimeter, eye-balled the DZ, kept himself stable. The air rushing past felt like it was trying to rip his head off: 4,000 feet; 3,900 . . . 3,800 . . . 3,700 . . . 3,600 . . . 3,500 . . .
    Ethan pulled the ripcord.
    No sound had ever made him feel so relieved as this one – his canopy bursting into life above him, pulling him from 120 mph to 10 mph in a matter of seconds.
    He checked everything, made sure the toggles were working OK, banked left, right, pulled himself round to head towards the DZ.
    Something caught his eye, far off and above him. It was the other skydiver.
    Must’ve left soon after me , he thought as he saw the final moments of the diver’s canopy opening. But that wasn’t important. All that mattered was this moment.
    He’d just jumped from a plane. On his own.
    Ethan was on top of the world.

13
    Ethan landed smoothly as Sam jogged over, Johnny in tow.
    ‘Well?’ Sam asked.
    Ethan grinned, pulled his canopy in, and rolled it up to take it back to the hangar.
    ‘Reckon he enjoyed it,’ said Johnny.
    ‘Then we consolidate,’ said Sam. ‘We can get a couple of jumps in today if you’re interested.’
    ‘Oh, I’m interested,’ Ethan replied.
    ‘Good,’ said Sam. ‘I’ll go sort out a fresh rig for you.’ And he turned to walk back to the hangar.
    Johnny followed, calling for Ethan to hurry up. ‘I’ll book us into the next available space,’ he said. ‘Sam’s coming with us as well. You must’ve impressed him.’
    ‘Really?’ said Ethan. ‘I thought you did the consolidation stuff on your own.’
    ‘You do,’ said Johnny. ‘You’ll be doing it all by yourself. We’re just coming along for the ride. But you need to know one thing . . .’
    ‘What’s that then?’ asked Ethan.
    Johnny smiled. ‘If Sam’s coming, then you’re really in the shit!’
    Ethan stopped mid-step. ‘Why’s that?’
    ‘It’s simple,’ said Johnny. ‘If you’re average, Sam leaves you alone. Not interested. Better things to do. But if you show promise, then he can’t help himself; he goes all out to make you better and better. And that’s hard work because he’s never happy with anything but perfection.’ He stopped and smiled. ‘After all, look at me!’
    Ethan laughed. All the way back to the hangar he was quizzed on his first solo, but inside he was thinking about what Johnny had just said. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud that somehow he’d impressed Sam. He knew that wasn’t easy. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d done it. Everything had happened so fast since he’d first met Johnny. Now here he was, a qualified skydiver.
    Luke came out of the hangar to meet them.
    ‘Well done, Eth,’ he said. ‘Welcome to the