First things first, she had to get out of this tree and locate the team. Marley looked down and instantly slammed her eyes shut against a wave of vertigo. She was still a good fifty feet off the ground, and the smooth dark-brown branches of the giant tree that had snagged her parachute jutted up toward her like giant gnarled fingers, ready to snap her legs if she fell. The only thing holding her up was her chute.
Careful to keep her chin tilted up, she opened her eyes, her gaze falling on one particularly viable looking branch a few feet above her head to the right.
She'd have to swing her body in a large pendulum back and forth in order to reach the branch, and that kind of movement could rip her parachute free from the limb if it didn't have a solid hold. If that happened, she would plummet and more than likely die from the impact.
If she didn't, her only option was to cut herself free or wait on the operatives to come find her and rescue her like some helpless damsel in distress.
She'd already freaked out on them back in the plane-the pilot, a captain in the U.S. Air Force with years of training and experience under her belt.
Oh hell no, no more brain farts and no more waiting for someone else to take action.
It was unlikely her parachute would tear now, after holding her weight for the past few minutes, but it was inevitable those men would look at her with pity if they found her like this.
All she had to do was not look down.
Marley looked down and whatever remained of her stomach came straight up into her chest, sending shock waves through her body. This fear of falling thing was really becoming a detriment.
Determined to fight through it, Marley kicked her legs out and then repeated the process as her body began to swing back and forth in a wider and wider arc. Little butterflies tickled her belly every time she dipped, but she also drew nearer to her goal. When she got within inches of the branch, she stretched out her hand, grasping at the smooth, bark-free limb with sweaty fingertips just before it slipped out of her grasp. She fell backward, careening in a wide circle, and it took her five more good swings to get her trajectory back under control and her velocity up to an appropriate level to make a second attempt.
Her fingers brushed the branch again, and this time she clenched it and held on with all her strength. A wave of triumph blasted through her veins.
At this angle, she'd have to kick her legs up and over, and straddle the branch like a see-saw. Using the buzz of adrenaline still feeding her movements, Marley swung her legs up, turned herself over, and managed to wrap her arms and legs around the branch. Exhausted, she rested her cheek on the wood, closed her eyes, and took in several deep breaths in an attempt to calm her racing heart.
No matter how stupid it was, having that solid piece of wood beneath her made her feel better. Like she wasn't over fifty feet in the air, dangling from a tree limb in the Congo after her plane had been intentionally scuttled by her copilot.
Hell, she felt like freaking G.I. Jane.
She'd survived not only one but two near-death experiences in the past two hours. A cold nosedive in a C-130. Parachuting out of the back of the crashing plane.
The bomb. The explosion had rent the air, sending bright red flames bursting across the sky. The billowing smoke was still visible through the small cracks in the thick tree tops overhead.
Make that three near-death experiences. The rush of G.I. Jane power faded away.
Focus. She needed to analyze her surroundings, make a plan to safely and quickly disembark from this giant Amazonian-like tree and get her feet planted on the ground.
Looked like she had about ten feet to go to reach the trunk, and from there multiple branches jetted out in random from the tree nearly to the ground. She could crawl down them like a ladder. Take it step-by-step. Easy as one, two, three.
Marley took a deep breath, pulled on her willpower, and began to inch her way forward. She only made it half a foot before her parachute yanked her to a stop. Fumbling with the Velcro pocket on her right thigh, Marley pulled out her KA-BAR knife and cut her tether free. The movement made her shift to the left. The unbalanced feeling made her shriek, and she released the knife so she could cling to the tree for dear life. Her eyes were drawn to the flashing silver blade as it tumbled over and over in the air and then embedded halfway to the hilt in the soft dirt right between the colonel's feet.
She gasped and met his shocked gaze. She hadn't even realized he was nearby.
"Be still, I'm coming up to get you," the colonel called out.
And rescue her again?
"No thank you, I have the situation well under control."
Her visceral response to looking down was an unwelcome reminder that the bold claim wasn't exactly true.
Still, if she wanted him to see her as the capable and intelligent woman she was, she'd figure her way out of this mess on her own. With the same sloth-like speed as before, Marley scooted forward. It seemed like it took her an hour to reach the trunk, when in reality it was probably no more than a minute. Sweat was dripping down her neck by the time she stopped, got to her feet in a crouch, and grabbed the branch just above her shoulders for support.