Jake pulled the straps of the parachute tight around his body as he fell, then double-checked and triple-checked that it was tight.
His heart was screaming in his chest. Not by the fall—he'd jumped out of planes many times before. Only once for work. Many times for fun. He was one of those guys who went on trips out to Costa Rica to squirrel-suit dive and bungee jump and do really any insane thing that presented itself as an option.
It was the storm.
He'd never been in anything like it.
Being on the ground in a storm like this would be enough to rattle him. But being in the air, close to the clouds, lightning falling down in like manner and with the near-to-paralleled frequency of the skeins of rain. Thunder like crackling applause at the Superbowl or riotous screams at a pentecostal church function that threatens to permanently damage the eardrums.
That's what was making his heart beat.
He looked to Virginia, who was falling with grace, even looked at peace. There was no way she was at peace, he thought to himself. But she could have fooled him.
She was falling, in the red dress, barefoot, drenched—but looked entirely relaxed. No panic. She was a good hundred feet from him.
He wondered about her—wondered if he was making the right decision. It wasn't too late for him to turn on her. Say they were attacked on the plane before he could kill her. He could let her escape once they reached the ground, then he could go back to the CIA no problem.
He'd made a snap decision on the plane to ignore the order and lie. In his mind, he'd decided to aide Virginia in her mission against Calvert. But now, falling through this storm, he realized that he still had to make the decision. It was unclear to him which was the right choice.
Virginia looked at him, then maneuvered her body to fly towards him.
She started coming in, faster and faster.
He kept his arms wide. For a moment, he thought their bodies would collide in the air, but she slowed herself just before him, perfect control of her flight pattern—she'd done this many times before.
They held each other's hands.
Still had time before he had to pull the parachute.
He realized that the storm wasn't likely their biggest problem. As he thought it, a stab of lightning struck only feet from them, generating a massive amount of heat, and sending a shock sensation through his body. Hair stuck up all over his body.
"Phew!" he yelled over the noise. "That was close!"
Virginia laughed.
Then, without a word, she maneuvered her body around so that she was hugging him. He felt her hold loosely for a few moments. Then squeeze tightly, wrapping her legs around him.
She was ready for him to pull the chute.
And it was that time.
He yanked the cord—a few moments later the chute caught them in the air. Virginia's grip didn't slide as she squeezed. The chute shielded them, slightly, from the rain.
Everything seemed much quieter—in comparison to moments before.
Though the rain did beat against the fabric of the chute with a drummer's obsession.
"So much for my meeting," said Virginia.
"Well, I think they had to cancel."
"Maybe they heard I was coming," she said with a laugh.
"I'm not afraid of you," he said.
"Yes, you are," she said. "But I'm not afraid of you."
He didn't have a response.
"You ever been to Brazil?" he asked.
"No."
"Neither have I."
They looked down, taking in the terrain of trees, hills, some mountains. Wide rivers, miles apart. A canopy so green that the bright, white lightning couldn't zap the color from it.
"Welcome to the Amazon," Virginia said.
"I have Prime Shipping, so I'm good," said Jake.
Virginia smiled, looking right at his face, inches away. Her hair drenched in rain, her smile wide—face dripping with water. She looked stunning.
Jake smiled back. "Bad joke, right?"
"Pretty bad."
Now he remembered why he'd made that snap decision.
Because of her.
She looked down.
He watched her.