Page 20 of Legacy's Destiny

“Nope,” Bandit said. “With the exception of explosions, the earpieces are noise canceling. I’m told they’re working on the explosions. Something to do with the change of pressure.”

The aircraft's engine whined and started, and the earpieces worked exactly as Bandit had described. She popped her eyes wide and looked at Deacon. “This is freaking incredible.”

He nodded. “All the best toys.”

“Speaking of which, I know they can’t drop us into the jungle. That’s a death sentence, so we’re probably going to be dropped in along the river.”

“In the river,” Deacon said with a smile.

“In the river. Right, because drowning with these packs on isn’t a thing.” She laughed, and then, leaning forward to look at the other men, she said, “Did I mention bat-shit crazy?”

Laughter lingered in her ears as the plane released its brakes and powered forward.

Echo closed her eyes and prayed she could keep up and not cause the team any problems. She wasn’t a field officer. But she knew what to do. She’d watch, learn, and keep up. If she had a question, she’d ask. After all, the comms …

A realization hit her, and she turned suddenly to Deacon. She mouthed,They heard me call you Sparky.The look he gave hertold her they had and that she was in some deep shit about it, too. She blinked at him and then laughed. A deep, hard belly laugh. What else could she do?

CHAPTER 6

Deacon, his team, and Echo moved to the back of the aircraft. Together, they positioned the equipment they’d need and checked the rigging. They didn’t have long until the drop. The two and a half hours it would take to get to the Nam Ou River meant they’d spend every minute working. Echo pitched in and worked just as hard as the men. His respect for her grew with each passing minute.

Ranger double-checked the parachute rigging after he’d finished. Just when he’d straightened and given him the thumbs up, the light in the hold changed from white to amber. His team went to their parachutes without being told, and Echo followed suit. He stopped her. “You’re tandem jumping with me.”

She frowned and snapped, “I can do this.”

He put his hand on her arm. “I know you can, but any asset, I repeat,any asset, always jumps with one of us. It’s policy to protect the people entrusted to our care.”

She stared at him and narrowed her eyes. “You’re not pulling my leg?”

“No, he isn’t,” Ranger chimed in. “Three missions ago, I got stuck with a guy from some drug enforcement squad assigned toa host national task force. He smelled like a wet dog had rolled in a dead skunk. His breath was worse.”

Bandit laughed. “You got the short straw.”

“I always get the short straw.”

“Because you’re so damn big, everything is a short straw for you,” Rip said, ducking a swipe from Ranger.

“You must be feeling better,” Ranger said as he buckled into his parachute.

“Yep. That stuff Bandit gave me saved the day.”

Deacon was glad for his team’s help in belaying her fears. She was going to be a handful. Her determination and stubbornness could benefit or distract them if they weren’t channeled correctly. He held her harness as she slipped it on and buckled it. After, he checked her harness, and she checked his—standard procedure when jumping. Then he attached the back of her harness to the front of his, and they hooked up to the line. It would pull the chutes ripcord as soon as they cleared the aircraft. With only a few hundred feet to fall, any delay in the chute opening could be deadly.

The light turned red, and Deacon hit the button to open the back bay door. The transport plane’s drone over the dense jungle canopy below reverberated back to them. The plane skimmed just a few hundred feet above the Nam Ou River. The water revealed the river’s winding path, cutting through Laos’s harsh, forested mountains. The team had seconds to prepare as the green signal light flickered inside the cargo hold.

The motorboats—compact, reinforced, and equipped with high-powered, ultra-quiet battery-operated motors—slid from the plane’s belly, parachutes blossoming behind them as they descended into the humid night. Each boat splashed into the river precisely, creating controlled ripples that vanished quickly in the river’s swirling currents. Behind them, the team followed, each man free-falling for a few tense seconds before his chutedeployed. In the daylight, Deacon watched shadows drifting downward like silent ghosts. The ground came quickly. “Soft knees,” he reminded Echo. She nodded her head but didn’t say anything. Boots touched down in shallow water or on the river's narrow sandbanks. In perfect synchronization, he and Echo hit the ground and lurched forward, rolling with the momentum of the fall. As soon as they stopped, he unfastened the tandem harness, and they pulled the chute’s material to them. The team regrouped and began securing their equipment.

The soft hum of motors broke the stillness as the boats came to life. Twin battery engines powered them soundlessly upriver against the gentle current. Everyone aboard remained alert, their sharp eyes scanning the tree-lined shores for any sign of movement. Every so often, a flickered glimpse of a distant village flashed by, but otherwise, the jungle towered over them. Its tangled vines and towering bamboo cast jagged shadows across the water.

The Nam Ou was both a blessing and a pain in the ass. Wide stretches allowed for swift navigation, but the occasional narrow bends and clusters of jagged rocks tested their skill. In places, the river narrowed into fast-moving channels, forcing the team to slow, grab the boat by the handles attached to the side, and power them over the jagged rocks. The jungle pressed close in these locations, and the humidity smothered each of them. The upside was that the dense foliage offered cover, and they’d take every advantage.

Every crackle of a branch or distant birdcall sent a ripple of tension through Deacon. He sensed the same tension in his team and Echo. She’d worked hard and stayed silent like the rest of the team. Echo was a warrior, and he was damn proud of her.

As night approached, a light mist rose from the water, lingering over the surface like a veil of smoke. The team pressed on, the boats moving through the fog silently. Occasionally, theypaused in shadowed inlets to check their bearings and regroup. The muted sounds of them passing water to each other blended into the river's murmur. For now, the river was their silent ally, carrying them deeper toward the heart of their target’s location.

Click’s voice came softly over the comms. “Two hundred yards farther up on your left is the best place to put into shore.”

Deacon’s fingers tightened around the tiller as he whispered, “Copy that.” The river rippled in the dim light, its surface shimmering under the moon’s faint glow. He guided the lead boat toward the sandy inlet Click had identified, the muted engine drone blending with the jungle's soft rustle.

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