PART 2
The first thing I felt was not fear.
It was pressure.
The wind flattened my clothes against my body, tore the breath from my lungs, and turned the blue Pacific below me into a spinning sheet of glass. The helicopter rose away with terrifying speed, becoming smaller as I fell.
For one impossible second, I saw Richard leaning out of the open door.
He was watching.
Not reaching.
Not shouting.
Watching.
Then the helicopter banked inland and disappeared behind a wall of white sunlight.
My hand closed around the small red handle hidden beneath my jacket.
I pulled.
Nothing happened.
Panic struck harder than the fall.
I pulled again, using both hands.