AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHH” I dived out of the little plane we had hired along with the parachutes that were supposed to be in those blasted bags we had over our backs.
Supposed to be but were not.
We had hired these two things for checking out how skydiving felt. However, this little venture had turned into a nightmare. We were not on a mission tracking down bad guys but I guess they came to us. I say that because our ‘chutes wouldn’t have left our Para bags (that’s what these parachute-containing bags are called here) on their own. So it means someone sabotaged our Para bags.
Anyway, these bags had gotten us into some serious trouble after not opening. We thought they contained parachutes but found out that they were empty. We needed parachutes – now!
We were hurtling towards the earth at 100 miles an hour! Moreover, if we did not get hold of something quickly – something that was flying or at least with wings or a parachute – then we would be crushed to marshmallows as soon as we hit the ground. In this case, the Grand Canyon. Yeah, you heard it right! We were skydiving over that steep – sided canyon carved out by the Colorado River in Arizona, USA.
Correction – skydiving over the Grand Canyon, without parachutes, only some dumb Para bags.
I had almost resorted to watching the view up from here as my last memories, when I suddenly caught a glimpse of a human figure falling through the air a few yards away from Nick and me. He was our pilot. Well, if he was our pilot then who was flying the plane? I did not have to wait for my answer.
As soon as a thought about the, who is – flying – the – plane thought, our minuscule – plane went burning below me. It was bursting in flames. The fire within had caused the paintwork to melt away, exposing the metal framework to tan itself in the hot sun. Did I mention that it was the hottest day of summer?
I looked over to the pilot to see if he had opened up his parachute yet. No, he had not. I realized we were yet too high to do that. I guess I still had about half a minute or so before that critical time arrived.
In thirty seconds, I had to practically ‘swim’ through the air and grab onto the pilot. And tell Nick to do the same.
If we do not succeed in this task, then the FBI would have to clean up two humongous marshmallows when they get here.
The pilot was our only hope for survival.
Well I had started thinking that the pilot was the one who had cut off our parachutes from our bags. What I did not know was why he did it if he had done it. I brushed the thought off my mind and started to fly through the air towards the pilot to grab onto him. I signaled to Nick to do the same. He understood me instantly and started swimming towards the pilot, just like me.
The pilot had not noticed us coming and as soon as we crash – landed into him he was completely startled. He looked scared, nervous and guilty at the same time. I knew that look. I usually saw that look on criminals’ faces, the look that told you that ‘whatever you do I’m not going to let you know what I did’. So maybe my suspicions about him being our parachute saboteur were turning out to be legitimate.
The pilot said something to us, but his voice was muffled by a gush of wind that pushed all three of us off track. Nick and I lost hold of the pilot’s feet and we had to go back over to get a grip of them. In another 20 seconds or so, we just about managed to do so when I saw the pilot reach for his parachute cord. We did not yet have a good grip of him. If he had opened up his parachute just yet, we would be flung out into the sky because of the sudden force.
Again, maybe that was what he wanted.
Apparently, Nick was thinking the same thing as I was. I was sure of that as I saw him reach for the pilot’s hand to stop him from pulling the cord. He grabbed the possible – saboteur’s hand and pushed it away, using the momentum to grab onto his waist and move himself higher from the feet to the shoulders. I then saw Nick climb up onto the pilot’s shoulders and he stood there.
Man, I got to hand it over to Nick. That guy’s always ready with a plan of some kind.
The pilot was struggling and squiggling to make Nick get off his shoulders, as he had to open his parachute. I realized we were moving too fast towards the earth, and there was not much time before it would be too late to open the parachute.
Nick told me to come up to the shoulders as he had. I tried doing the same, and after a couple more seconds, I was up beside Nick. The pilot hurriedly yanked the parachute cord. And out it came.
It almost ripped my guts from their place. The motion was so quick.
We now stood on the pilot’s shoulders holding the parachute cords for support.
The pilot was wiggling about, crying like a girl. “What is it? Can’t you stay still?” Nick was frustrated with the racket the pilot was creating. We were just a few hundred feet above the ground now and I could see why the pilot was ‘unstable’.
“We’re going too fast! Get off me you…you rats! You’re gonna kill us all!”
Eventually the pilot did end up breaking his legs. Nevertheless, we survived. In addition, my hunch of him being the saboteur did also pay off as one of the police officers who had arrived at the scene, Mr. Jacobs, told us that he had been the head of the gang of smugglers who smuggled some sort of drugs out of USA to Mexico. His name was Lorenzo Alberta.
We had been trying to find out this man and his smugglers in our last mission. We did find the smuggled items and the smugglers, but were unable to find the ringleader. We eventually assumed he was dead or he ran off somewhere. So we went on a vacation – this.
What I understood later, was that he came as a pilot in our plane to kill us, taking revenge for the imprisonment of his accomplice smugglers. He had a co – pilot, but this ringleader killed him when the latter jumped off the plane.
Now that the case was closed, the bad people behind bars and the evidence handed over to the authorities, the two crime – solving brothers were ready to chill!