“All right,” Terry said, right hand reaching for the twin throttles. “We’re equalized here too, so let me get you into position.”

In the windscreen, the Boeing seemed to rise above them, though Ben knew they had dropped a few feet lower in trail. Terry expertly maneuvered the jet slowly to the right, letting the nose begin to creep up along the side of the Boeing.

“Get ready,” Terry said. “Thirty seconds and I’ll have us stabilized in position.”

“Do we need to be careful about discharging weapons inside the plane?” Ben asked.

“I mean, yes and no. From a decompression standpoint, holes through a wall or window won’t cause an issue because pressure is equalized. But if you shoot the pilots or hit a hydraulic or fuel line, then you’ve got problems.”

Ben turned back to where Jed and Eli stood on either side of the main cabin door, full kits, helmets, and assault rifles tight on their chests. That they both wore parachutes was a detail not lost on him.

“Ready?” he asked.

“We’re not gonna get sucked out of this plane the second we open the door?” Eli asked. His tone suggested he meant to sound kidding, but Ben knew Eli well enough to know when he was nervous, even when no one else could tell.

“No, pressure is equalized with the outside,” Ben said. “There will be several hundred knots of wind, however, so you’re gonna wanna snap in.”

He watched the two operators exchange glances and then snap the flexible bungees on the D-rings of their web belts into the handles beside the door. Ben leaned between them and looked through the window, seeing nothing but the worn paint on the side of the Boeing 717, mere inches away now that Terry had pulled their jet within “Blue Angels” distance from the rear end of the target jet. He checked that everyone else in the cabin was seated and strapped in before disengaging the door lock.

“Ready to open,” he hollered to the cockpit.

“Okay,” Terry called back. “Let me get a little separation. We’re gonna yaw a bit to the left with the drag when you open the door, so give me a second to get stable and ease back in.”

Ben acknowledged and looked at his two nervous Shepherds. “You got this, guys,” he said, a last-second pep talk as he watched the adjustment maneuver through the porthole window in the door.

“Okay,” Terry hollered from the cockpit.

“Is this door gonna tear off?” Jed asked, looking at the door with distrust.

“I doubt it,” Terry called back. “It’s pretty solid . . . but maybe, so I  wouldn’t hold on to it or anything.”

“Here we go, guys.” Ben turned the silver handle ninety degrees.