"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 20 - Guardians of the Coral Throne" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

Blade 20: Guardians of the Coral Throne

By Jeffrey Lord

Chapter 1
The light plane came out of its turn on to a straight and level course.

"Drop point coming up, gentlemen," said the RAF sergeant at the door.

Richard Blade ran his hands expertly over his parachute harness and gear, completing the final check by
touch alone. Then he stepped forward to the door, getting a clearer view of the gray and green hills of
Yorkshirecrawling past a few thousand feet below. Behind him he heard the other two jumpers getting to
their feet.

All three were experienced parachutists, here on the Parachute Brigade's jump range for a five-jump
refresher course. One was a Royal Marine Commando, a major or senior captain, Blade suspected. One
civilian, with an old face and a young body, probably Secret Service. And Richard Blade. He had been a
crack agent for the ultrasecret intelligence agency M16 for some years. Now he was-

The drop light above the door flashed on. The sergeant gave Blade a thumbs-up signal. Blade stepped
forward, bracing himself for a moment in the doorway while the air rushed around him at a hundred miles
an hour. Then he spread out his arms and sprawled forward into thin air, in the apparently ungainly
posture of the experienced skyjumper.

The roar of the plane's engine died away. Now Blade heard only the whisper of the air around him as his
speed built up. He stayed spread-eagled and kept his eyes on the green hills below. They were coming
up at him fast.

Blade's hand closed on his D-ring. At one thousand feet he pulled hard on the ripcord. He heard a
rushing sound as his parachute streamed out. Then he felt the familiar bone-jarring jerk as it deployed
above him and his free fall came to an end.

The ground was still coming up to meet him faster than he liked to see it. But the light ground wind was
just enough to send him over the crest of one hill and on down the far slope. His feet struck short thick
grass, still slick with dew, and went out from under him. He went down onto the seat of his pants,
twisting and rolling as he did to spill air from the parachute. He rolled a good way down the slope,
picking up bruises even through his padded jumpsuit, before the big nylon canopy flopped down on some
bushes.

Blade rose to his feet, gathered in the parachute, and scrambled up to the top of the hill to look for the
other two jumpers. He could see both of them, both obviously down safely. The Royal Marine had
landed on the edge of a small grove of trees. The Secret Service man was climbing out of a pond, his
khaki jumpsuit now dark and sodden with water.

The light plane was coming back now, flying low over the three jumpers, waggling its wings in answer to
their waves. Close behind it was the helicopter that would pick them up and take them back to the
airstrip for their next flight and jump. It reached Blade first and circled around him twice, the rotorwash
kicking up a spray of pebbles, twigs, and dead leaves. Then it drifted down to hang in the air over him.
Blade threw in his parachute, gripped the handholds on either side of the door, and swung himself into the
cabin.