Page 52 of Bullets and Dandelions

“Go,” Jeb instructed.

Tex jumped first.

I was next up, and the others would follow behind me.

Stone tapped my shoulder.

“Yee-haw!” I leaped from the plane and dived toward the jungle below us. When I reached 10,000 feet my altimeter beeped. Arching my back, I spread my arms and legs to slow my descent. With my night vision goggles, everything was crystal clear.

The guys took positions around me.

“You’re an adrenaline junkie,” Stone growled in my earpiece.

“And you’re not?”

Rodriquez laughed. “She’s got you there, Sarge.”

“No deviating from the plan, Tinkerbell.”

“I won’t.” But, hey, shit happened. Jeb’s recon had revealed the mercenaries got drunk every night like clockwork. Stone’s plan was to attack at midnight when the idiots’ reflexes were dulled by fatigue and alcohol.

At one thousand feet, I pulled the ripcord. The parachute deployed and I drifted toward our landing zone which was an island marked with a big fluorescent green X. The tension in my shoulders lessened. No one had shot at us. If Pops was in the area, he would have killed the Alpha Dogs by now.

My eyes widened in horror when I floated over a dead tree. Hanging from its broken branches were ginormous webs filled with huge spiders. Tugging on my parachute line, I quickly changed my angle of descent and missed it by ten feet.

A shudder shook me at the thought of crashing into them and having a zillion creepy crawlies on me. Ugh. I came in behind Tex and landed perfectly. I gathered up my chute and watched the others do a straight-down descent known as a “dump in”. Only professionals with lots of experience could pull it off.

Tex grimaced. “Did you see that tree full of spiders?”

“I did.”

“Stay away from it. The spiders are poisonous.”

“Won’t be a problem.” I eyed the slimy water surrounding the small island. It appeared to be about six to eight feet deep, and dozens of empty beer bottles floated on the surface. The mercenaries were a bunch of slobs.

Stone, Rodriquez, Kamous and Johnson rolled up their chutes and stuffed them behind moss covered rocks. Since they were swimming to the stilt house, they were wearing wet suits and rubberized boots. The men literally bristled with weapons. Add in their combat helmets, night vision goggles and they appeared almost alien.

“Do you have your perch selected?” Stone asked.

I pointed at a large mango tree with a thick tangle of cylindrical roots. “That one. No spiders and there are a couple of stout limbs that’ll hold my weight.

“It’ll do.” Stone cupped his hands. “I’ll give you a boost.”

Slinging Bertha over my shoulder, I placed my right boot in his hands, and he launched me into the tree. “Shit!” I frantically grabbed a branch. It was like being shot out of a cannon.

“Are you in position?” There was a hint of amusement in Stone’s voice.

“I am, sir.” Since I had already attached Bertha’s night vison lens, I flipped up the goggles and laid on my stomach.

“How many enemy soldiers are at the stilt house?” Stone’s deep, gravelly voice sent shivers down my back.

I carefully inspected the building. “Two are patrolling the porch and dock. One is on the roof, and I can see three more inside the house.

“Copy that.” I watched the men slip into the water and vanish.

A spider crawled along my branch.

I jerked out my boot knife, chopped it in half and flung it in the water. Ugh.

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