The Twin Otter lifted off in the morning with six passengers on board.  Rick had extra hair gel applied today and his ear plugs in, listening to music and not talking to anyone.  He was still bitter about being bumped from the mission and moved to the support role.

The pilot, the one who had flown for their training jumps, was a drug runner who routinely made illegal flights from the South China Sea to Darwin and knew the routes in and out of the area well.  The Liquid Sky members had their wing suits and parachutes with them.  In the unlikely event that they were stopped along the way, they would appear as nothing more than sport jumpers.

Deckard leaned back and watched fluffy white clouds float by the window.  Was he scared?  Scared of what?  Jumping out of a blacked-out aircraft over a major metropolitan city, gliding between buildings while wearing combat equipment, deploying a parachute at the very last second, landing on the smallest drop zone imaginable, then explosively breaching a door, and getting into a shootout with dozens of goons, killing a terrorist financier, all before parachuting off the roof down to the streets?  What was there to be scared of?

At least a couple of them were going to die on this mission according to Deckard’s calculations.  Bill didn’t seem very conflicted about that fact after basically admitting it to him.  Who was he kidding, they were all going to die on this mission.  Deckard closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep.  He had been there before.

They landed at a remote airfield in Indonesia to refuel before continuing on to the Philippines.  Some of the guys slept, others watched movies on their tablets.

It was late at night when they landed at the Barradas airfield, a dusty airstrip not far outside of Manila.  Under the cover of darkness, the team policed up their gear and walked to a waiting van.  As they approached, Ramon got out from behind the wheel and shook hands with Bill.

“I have the team house set up and ready to go,” Ramon told him.