“Sir? Are you ready?”
Marshall stared at the helmeted man for a moment before the words sunk in. “Yes!” He yelled back over the roar of the jet engine.
The helmeted man nodded and spoke into his mouthpiece.
Marshall could not see the man’s eyes through the dark glasses under his helmet. He had no idea if this mission even made sense to the others.
The plane banked hard south. Marshall steadied himself against the bulkhead and checked the tightness on his straps again.
The helmeted man waited, absently brushing something off his grey uniform pants. His head nodded and he reported, “It’s time!” He then moved to the side opposite Marshall. Wrapping his hand around one of the safety straps on the wall, he slapped the button.
Marshall heard the loud claxon and the red light flashed as the air whooshed from the area around him. The ramp of the cargo bay lowered to reveal the sun lit white caps below. “About time I did this,” he whispered.
A counter above the helmeted man’s head illuminated with the number 20 and started counting down.
Marshall unbuckled from his seat, but remained. Feeling the cold air tugging on his whiskers, he pulled down he pulled his goggles down on his own helmet.
The timer reaching 10 brought Marshall to his feet. Using the safety bar above his head he tip toed to the middle of the cabin.
…5…4…3…2…1. The red light turned green.
Marshall released the hand hold and started into a sprint. The end of the cargo ramp became his diving board as he dove head first out into the frigid Rocky Mountain air…
The whooshing air deafened him as he hurtled towards the ground below. In his peripheral vision he caught sight of the second airplane. Glancing up he saw the individual leaping from that vehicle.
“Shit,” he heard his own voice muffled in his helmet. He pulled his arms in and legs together and turned his controlled fall into a dive.
“Shit!” he yelled. Quickly unbuckling his parachute, Marshall’s eyes kept tracking the other figure descending from above the tree line.
Free, he turned and sprinted through the ankle deep snow towards the log cabin. He reached the door and it gave way with a quick twist of the knob.
Bobby hit the ground further back from the cabin than wanted. “Damn!” Having watched from above as the other figure had darted inside, Bobby estimated being thirty seconds behind.
“Not on your life, you bastard!”
Bobby quickly had the chute unlatched and was in a dead sprint through the snow.
“Ow!” Pain shot through the shoulder after slamming into the locked door. “Shit!”. The knob twisted but the door would not budge.
Slumping slightly, Bonny knocked…
The door opened and Marshall stood silhouetted in the dark door, completely naked and holding two glasses of red wine.
“You bastard,” Bobby whispered before leaning into him and kissing him deeply. Her helmet pushed off and red hair billowed out.
“This is for you,” he said and offered her the glass in his left hand.
“What about that?” She sipped from the wine glass and flashed her eyes at his rock hard erection.
Marshall smiled. “Yes…but how about we do that inside where it is warmer? Besides, good as that cat suit looks on you, you’re wearing too much.”