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〃Damn you； e on！〃 Fedorov grabbed Abramanov by the front of his flight suit； hauled him out of his seat。
The Tupolev was canted crazily； its nose dragged down as if by a lead weight。 Rain pelted the cockpit cowling and the fuselage； setting up a fearful din。 Great gusts of wind slammed the aircraft over and down。
〃We have to jump now！〃 Fedorov shouted in Abramanov's ear。
As if in a trance； Abramanov hesitated； reluctant to part with the cases of 114m。 〃Our cargo …〃
〃You idiot； fuck the cargo！〃 Fedorov screamed； hauling him toward the door。 〃The autopilot won't hold us up for long。 A moment more and we'll be too low for the chutes to open in time！〃
Fedorov leaned on the cargo door； sliding it open。 Wind and rain flew in； bouncing around the cabin like ricocheting bullets。 The elements plucked at them like a living thing； taking Abramanov's breath away。
〃Now！〃 shouted Fedorov at the edge of the doorway。
〃I can't leave！ I …〃
But Fedorov had already released his hold on the fuselage； his body sucked out of the aircraft。 Abramanov watched with an almost detached curiosity as Fedorov's dark form dwindled； tumbling over and over。 Then the quiet bloom； startling is its paleness； as his parachute opened。
The Tupolev was shuddering and groaning as the storm； let loose inside it threatened to rip it apart。 Abramanov's teeth were chattering。 As if in a dream； he watched his fingers give up their white…knuckled grip on the edge of the doorway。 He felt a sudden burst of kinetic energy； as if the hands of a giant had slammed into the small of his back； and he was hurled into the heart of the black storm。
Upside down； the wind howling in his ears； drenched to the bone； he scrabbled for the rip cord。 He saw the underside of the Tupolev yaw away from him and wondered that he could not discern the massive roar of its engines above the primal howling of the storm。
Disoriented； he could not find the rip cord； and he panicked； tasting bile in his mouth。 He thought of the ocean； so far below him； rising up to slam him into oblivion。 His belly turned to ice； and he almost lost a grip on his bowels when his hands closed around the plastic handles and he jerked them down。 The abrupt break in his downward momentum felt like the intercession of God。 As he righted； he gave a prayer。
Below him was the sea and； to his right； the top of Fedorov's chute； a forting flower in an inimical world； and Abramanov felt dissipate a measure of the tension that had racked him ever since they hit the leading edge of the storm。
In retrospect； it seemed as if he knew what would happen a split second before it actually took place。 An eerie sense of immediate déjà vu gripped him as he saw Fedorov slice sideways； driven by a fierce gust of wind。 Almost simultaneously； a rent in his main chute appeared； a dark； grinning mouth； widening madly until the chute collapsed into segments and Fedorov menced to plunge downward at a terrifying rate。
Abramanov tried to shout a warning； but the sound was snatched from his lips； lost within the violent whorls and eddies of the storm。
He was close enough to the heaving ocean to see what happened to Fedorov as his friend struck it。 It was as if the sea rose up to meet him。 Abramanov could see approaching a gigantic wave； shot through with darkness； a demon with glass teeth； a beast out of a nightmare； trembling with feral fury。 Fedorov's head canted at an impossible angle as his body struck the leading edge of the wave and disappeared into that lost world。 The passage of life into death was momentarily marked by the stain of the shredded parachute； before it； too； was sucked beneath the waves。
Abramanov felt an overwhelming urge to vomit。 The sea was so high； so close now； that he could taste the salt and phosphorus it gave off as if it were radiation。 Abramanov thought that perhaps his friend's fate was the better of two evils。 Instantaneous death must be preferable； he told himself； to drowning。 A sudden squall of wind caught him as it had Fedorov； jerking him from side to side as if he were trapped on a ride in an amusement park； and Abramanov thought for a moment that God was going to grant his wish。
But his chute held； driven sideways over the ocean； propelled by the wind。 Above him； he could see； like a leviathan descending toward the ocean's floor； the Tupolev…10。 The shadow of its passage was like an eclipse。 Even the monstrous storm seemed to pause for an instant。
Then； like a celestial object thrown off course； the aircraft dove into the water nose first； and above the storm's incessant roar； Abramanov heard the squeal of tortured metal； felt the shock wave as if it were a bomb blast。
He swung vertiginously just above the waves； then； as the storm resumed its fury； he was dashed into the bosom of the South China Sea； closer to the Tupolev…10 and its unnerving cargo than he wanted to be。
Something tore； splintering。 Pain lanced through his body。 Oh； God； my leg！ he thought as the first； enervating torrent of water engulfed him。
Rock breathed deeply of the sea air； scenting phosphorus and brine； deposing seagrape and barnacles； fish heads baking in the sun。 The boat rolled deeply in the green and indigo swells。
〃We're almost there；〃 Abramanov said。
Rock looked up from his methodical cleaning of a black magic … an M16A1 army rifle … saw Abramanov hulking like a brown bear across the deck。 Not so long a trip； he thought； but on the other hand； before they were finished； it might be longer than a journey to the end of the world。
Rock had been in Asia for so long it was the only home he knew。 He remembered another one； dimly and with a bination of rage and fear。 In nightmares he experienced again his father looming over him； drunk and out of work again。
C'mon； his father would say to him in his nightmare。 Just you an' me； Junior； without your mother to save your stinking； worthless ass。 Then his father would strip the bedcovers off him； strike him beside his ear with such stunning force that Rock would almost pass out。 Then again and again。 Nightmare or remembered past？
Rock did remember the day he had faced his father down and … after years of beefing up at the gym； at army boot camp； and on the first and only leave he had used to return home … with one stunningly quick left hook； had set him down on the pavement in front of the Pittsburgh ghetto tenement in which Rock had been brought up。
His father's only response had been to smile slyly as he spat blood。 I been waiting a long fucking time； Junior； he had said。 Just remember I made you what you are。
Now； as he stood upon the pitching deck of one of the many boats he owned； Rock watched the Russian crossing unsteadily toward him。 That leg had been a mess when one of Rock's patrol boats had scooped Abramanov out of these storm…dark waters six months ago。 Rock； who had access to the best of everything in Southeast Asia； had had his people do their best。 But even so； he lacked the facilities and the personnel of a Walter Reed Hospital。 Bones had been reset； but nerve damage was irreversible； at least in this part of the world。 Of course； he hadn't told Abramanov that； the man had been grateful enou