Rapp stared into the blinding sunlight for a few seconds, then put his boots on the edge of the open door and rappelled to the designated mark. After that, there wasn’t much he could do but dangle helplessly as the chopper began a collision course with the cliff. Fred Mason was unquestionably the best in the business. Hopefully, it would be enough.

When it seemed certain they were going to crash, the chopper reared back, sending Rapp swinging out from beneath it. He hit the ground harder than anticipated, dazing him badly enough that his fingers were incapable of disengaging the rappel device connecting him to the aircraft. He finally managed to release the brake but continued to be dragged toward the drop-off by the friction of the rope passing through the mechanism. It cracked like a whip when it finally cleared, the end contacting Rapp’s forearm and leaving a deep gash.

“Stop rolling!” he heard Mason shout over his earpiece. “Stop fucking rolling, Mitch!”

Free of the line, he changed his focus to trying to follow his pilot’s advice. Most of the rocks he grabbed were too small or loose to have much of an effect, but he eventually managed to aim for one that looked solid. And it was. He slammed into it shoulder first, coming to an abrupt halt three feet from the drop-off.

“Mitch! You all right? Say something!”

“Son of a bitch…” he managed to get out, blood drooling from his mouth as he spoke.

“Oh, man!” Mason said. “I’d have bet my life savings on that not working! Am I good or what?”

Rapp just lay there as the chopper disappeared over the mountain. Nothing felt broken or torn. Nothing important, anyway.

He finally struggled to his feet and stumbled toward the tangle of foliage that Chism had built to camouflage the cave entrance. By the time he passed through, his mind was more or less clear.

“Jeez… That was crazy. Are you okay?”

By way of response, Rapp slapped Chism in the side of the head hard enough to almost drop him.

“Ow! That hurt!” he said, stumbling back. An Asian woman watched from the rear of the cave, where she was hovering over a man lying in a bed of fronds.

Rapp pointed. “Is he still breathing?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m a fucking doctor, man.”

Rapp stepped forward and slapped him in the side of the head again.

“Ow! Stop it! I couldn’t risk that you’d just leave them. They wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for me.”

“And that’s the only reason I didn’t just collect my paycheck and go home,” Rapp said, walking back toward the cave entrance. The dull hum of helicopters was audible outside, punctuated by the occasional burst of automatic fire.

“Fred,” he said into his throat mike. “I’m going to need the stretcher. Can you get it in here?”