Gerard barely glanced at her. “You won’t have it in you. Better if I’m on my own.” He straightened his arms by his sides and clutched his coveralls.

“You need to wait—”

Gerard jumped.

“Shit, shit, shit.” The young airman had reached the drop chute and was looking down in disbelief.

The pilot and the navigator were both yelling questions at the two crew, though Sophie couldn’t hear what they were asking.

“He was supposed to wait for the second pass,” the airman blurted, looking up at Sophie, wide-eyed. “He’ll be in the feckin’ trees.”

“What?”

“There’s a forest on the eastern side of the potato fields. It’s why we do two passes. First for cargo, second for jumpers. Shit.” The plane was banking again.

“I’ll look for him,” Sophie yelled.

“You’ll need to backtrack east. He’ll have come down on top of the trees. No way he’ll have made it through the canopy to the ground. If he’s lucky he’ll just be hung up.” He didn’t need to say what the consequences of unlucky were. “He’ll be a sitting duck in the trees if he’s discovered.” The plane straightened. “Get ready!” he shouted and moved back toward the front of the plane to speak to the pilot.

Worry for Gerard and the damage he might have inflicted on their mission with his foolishness overrode any fear about the jump itself. Above her head, the red light blinked on. She stepped to the edge of the dark opening, the air howling and shrieking beneath her. The light went green, and Sophie jumped.

Falling unchecked through space was a peculiar sensation, terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Training on familiar ground was one thing but hurtling downward toward the unknown was something else entirely. It was also, Sophie reflected, oddly peaceful—the teeth-rattling vibrations abruptly ceased, and the thunder of the engines receded to a distant whine.

The air rushed by her, the small strings in the folds of her parachute snapping in quick order until the last one snapped off and the parachute opened. Sophie was jerked upward, her fall suddenly slowed. Above her, the moon shone brightly. Pale light glittered off a river that curled away to her right and created uneven shadows on the ground below her. To her left, beyond an inky black strip of what she assumed were trees, she caught a glimpse of what looked like a roof, the smooth surface a pale canvas against the dark.

Sophie concentrated on the ground, trying to anticipate the landing. As she drew near, she reached up as far as she was able, grasped the harness, and yanked it down. Her feet made contact with the ground, and she let herself fall to the side, landing hard on her hip. Her parachute billowed and yanked her forward a few feet before it collapsed like a spent balloon.