DropZone by Andy McNab Page A

all you need to know.’
    ‘But I’ll still have to pay it back,’ said Ethan.
    ‘No,’ said Sam, ‘you won’t. That’s what “sorted” means. I’ve also arranged cover for you this week so you don’t have to worry about work. All you need to think about now is keeping your eyes and ears open, listening, learning and making sure you don’t die. Got it?’
    Ethan stood there for a moment, trying to take it all in. The tandem – that had been pretty crazy. But now this! How on earth had Sam sorted out the costs? And why? It didn’t make sense, but Ethan didn’t want to ask any more questions in case Sam got annoyed and changed his mind. It started to sink in. He was going to learn to skydive . . . bloody hell!
    Adrenaline raced through him. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ he said, and as he looked up at Sam, he saw a flicker of a smile cross his face.
    ‘I’m always serious,’ said Sam. ‘So sort your shit out and I’ll see you and Johnny in the hangar in ten.’
    He went over to the café door, unlocked it and disappeared inside.
    Ethan turned to Johnny. ‘I’m actually going to be learning to skydive? For real?’
    Johnny nodded, and came to put his arm across Ethan’s shoulders. ‘Not just skydive,’ he said, ‘but skydive with the best .’
    ‘Sam?’
    ‘No,’ said Johnny. ‘Me.’

11
    ‘The AFF course,’ Sam began, ‘takes you from beginner to category eight qualified skydiver in eight jumps.’
    Ethan was sitting in the hangar, Johnny next to him. He was fully rigged up and hanging on Sam’s every word. Outside, the day was clear; sunshine was streaming in through the windows. ‘Eight jumps?’ he said, thinking it hardly sounded enough.
    Sam nodded. ‘Today we’re doing ground training,’ he went on. ‘You’ll do your first jump tomorrow.’
    Ethan immediately felt disappointed. He was impatient, wanted to jump now, get back into the air, feel the sky rushing past him, experience again that strange moment when the world below just seems to sit there, perfectly still, not getting any closer, your brain unable to compute that you’re at terminal velocity, falling at around 120 mph.
    Johnny went and stood next to Sam. Ethan thought how different they were – Sam with his startlingly short hair, hard face and unflinching stance; Johnny looking like an advert for why extreme sports make women want to sleep with you.
    ‘Sam’s going to be leading on this,’ Johnny said. ‘I’m helping out. When you do your jumps, you’ll leave the plane with both of us. We’ll help you get a feel for the air, sort your positioning out, that kind of thing. And I’ll be filming it all too. So at least you’ll look good.’
    ‘It’ll give us something to analyse on the ground,’ said Sam, ignoring Johnny’s comment. ‘Just another way of being extra thorough. The quicker you get the details right, the better you’ll be when you’re up there.’
    ‘It’ll also give us something to laugh at,’ added Johnny.
    Ethan noticed a smile start to flicker across Sam’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He was beginning to understand the man a little more now, and since the jump he felt he could trust him absolutely.
    ‘As Sam said,’ said Johnny, ‘today’s ground training.’ He went over to the hangar wall and pulled out what looked to Ethan like a tea trolley.
    ‘What the hell’s that?’
    ‘The perfect way to make you look a total knob,’ said Johnny. ‘We’ll be using it to show you the basic moves you’ll need. You lie on top of it – that way you can practise the correct positions and movements in freefall.’
    ‘Are you having a laugh?’ Ethan looked doubtfully at the trolley.
    Johnny shook his head and Ethan saw a rare seriousness on his face. ‘If you can’t do it down here, and do it well, then there’s no way we’re going to throw you out of a plane,’ he said. ‘It’s human error, not equipment failure that kills. Skydiving is only as