Page 1 of True Valor (True Heroes #1)

The radio in Nic D’Onofrio’s ear crackled.

“Hey, Nic, did you find us a soft place to land?”

“Na-ah. Should I have?”

Nic spoke, the mic in his ear picking up his own voice.

Someone whined.

“Joey always does.”

“Yeah, well, Joey spoils you guys. I’m the navigator tonight. Leave the drop zone to me.”

A standing joke for several years, one Bravo Squad never let Alpha forget.

A member of Alpha Squad had landed wrong on a jump and broken his ankle.

If that weren’t enough, he’d been dragged by his chute through the mud screaming in pain; all on video tape for the entire unit to see.

It hadn’t been the navigator’s fault but Joey took the opportunity anyway to give him a piece of sound advice.

“Always look for a soft place to land.”

From there, the conversation had degenerated.

On this jump, they’d have to survive without Joey. He was in Afghanistan for another week. No big deal. Every man on Bravo Squad was trained to navigate jumps.

“Amigo, you think you can do this without Joey?”

Eric Cruz’s voice snapped with humor. Any of them could do this stuff half asleep.

Nic mentally flipped him off.

“I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.”

At terminal velocity, he had to shout to be heard over the air whipping past him at one hundred twenty-five miles per hour.

Nic braced himself as he approached the cloud deck.

He squinted to see the altimeter on his wrist as snowflakes pelted him, hard as bullets.

“In the clouds.”

Lt. Quillen’s voice came over the radio. Seconds ticked away.

“I’m out.”

At six thousand feet, Quillen gave the order to separate so the team could open their chutes. One by one, they checked in.

“Navigator okay,”

Nic reported as soon as his chute deployed. The others followed suit.

“All chutes okay.”

Now out of the clouds, Nic could see the lights of town twinkle in the distance, the cold making them look like candles. It only took seconds to find the target drop zone.

“Navigator?”

Quillen again.

“Got it. Turning right to heading one-nine-three degrees.”

“Make it a soft place, Nic.”

Nic let out an evil laugh.

“I’m headed for the rocks. Suck it up.”

The unit commander, Colonel Rick McIntyre, known as Mac to his squads, leaned heavily against the north wall of the pararescue headquarters, watching Bravo Squad unload the last of the gear from the back of the truck.

Dawn would break before any of them got any shuteye.

He cleared the lump from his throat then smiled, watching his parajumpers congratulate each other with slaps on the back.

A jump that went off without a hitch was no small victory.

The snow fell in swirls almost obstructing Mac’s view.

Even with their faces covered in camo paint, and with limited visibility, he knew these guys well enough to know which one was which.

Mac loved his PJs.

Sure, he had to rein them in sometimes but he never had to jump-start them. They were ready for anything any time. Simpliciter Paratus!

Mac caught Quillen’s eye and motioned him over to where he stood.

Please, God, don’t let me choke.

His stomach churned.

Please, God, don’t let me puke.

Lieutenant David Quillen, Bravo’s Combat Rescue Officer, straightened and walked crisply over to Mac.

“Sir,”

he said, saluting.

“you’re here late.”

Mac could see recognition of his seriousness in Quillen’s eyes.

Mac slapped David on the back, smiled as best he could.

“Great job tonight, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Before your team leaves, David, I need to speak to them.”

A momentary grimace may have chased across his lieutenant’s face. But then the young man squared his shoulders and nodded.

If only Mac could get through this without blubbering like a baby. Breaking this kind of news never got easier.

Never.