The blow made Ethan retch. He folded up, pain racing through his body, coughed, tasted bile in his throat, felt sick, scared.

Mr Blond refused to let him fall, just held him tight for more of the same.

Jake came in with another blow from the plank. It hurt just as bad. Ethan heard Jake laugh. Then he puked. It stung his throat, and he could see blood in it.

‘Nice.’ Jake laughed as Mr Blond dropped Ethan face down in his own vomit.

Ethan stayed where he was. He knew he was deep in shit and that there was fuck all he could do about it. Moments later, Johnny was thrown to the ground next to him. Johnny looked at him, attempted a smile, but said nothing. Then Ethan saw Jake and his goons looming above them and knew what was coming next.

The screeching of tyres split the night and finally ended the fight. Ethan turned his head to see what was going on and saw headlights burst round the corner of the hangar like fireworks. Gravel and dirt scattered as Sam pulled his Defender up sharp, kicked the door open and hurled himself towards the boys like a raging bull.

‘Another time, Rookie!’ said Jake, and he and the two goons bolted.

Sam skidded to the ground. ‘Ethan? Johnny? You OK?’

Ethan sat up, coughed, shook his head to clear it, then nodded.

‘We’ll live,’ said Johnny.

‘Well, you look like you’ve been shat out of a bear’s arse,’ said Sam. He turned back to Ethan. ‘What’s Jake done?’

Ethan pointed at the open doors to the hangar. ‘They’ve killed the kit, Sam,’ he said. ‘Ruined it.’

Sam stood, ran over to the doors, turned back, face hard. ‘Can you walk?’

In answer, Ethan and Johnny pulled themselves to their feet.

‘What state are they in?’ asked Sam. ‘I saw Jake was bleeding. What about the other two?’

‘Not great,’ said Johnny, stretching his back. ‘Same as us.’

‘Right,’ commanded Sam. ‘Defender. Now.’

He turned, and Ethan and Johnny clambered into the back seats. The engine thrummed into life with a heavy growl.

‘They headed off down there.’ Johnny pointed, leaning over the front seats. ‘Down the grass airstrip. They must’ve cut across the fields to get here or something.’

‘What about the fence that surrounds the place?’ asked Ethan.

‘It’s just a fence,’ said Johnny. ‘It’s not patrolled or anything. Not any more.’

Sam kicked the Defender forward, headlights sweeping the night.

‘There they are!’ yelled Ethan, spotting three figures running ahead.

Sam dropped a gear, accelerated.

Suddenly Ethan spotted something else just in front of Jake and the two men. It was a helicopter. ‘Shit!’

Sam looked at Ethan. ‘What’s up?’

Ethan said nothing; just pointed.

Sam saw the helicopter. ‘You’re kidding me,’ he said.

The blades were just starting to spin.

‘Told you he was a rich kid,’ said Johnny, looking at Ethan. ‘The tosser flew in.’

Sam gunned the Defender.

Ethan gripped the metal rail behind the front seats to stop himself lurching back into Johnny. He could see Jake just ahead, closing in on the helicopter, its blades now a blur.

Sam swung the Defender round, trying to block Jake’s route.

Jake dodged, and before Sam could make another pass, he’d reached the helicopter.

Sam rammed the gearstick forward and made to go after Jake. ‘Too late, Sam,’ said Johnny. ‘Look.’

Leaning from the open door of the helicopter, Jake waved a one-fingered salute.

And from the Defender, the three of them returned the gesture.

Back in the office, Sam quizzed Johnny and Ethan on what had happened. They explained everything – from Jake’s phone call, through discovering what was going on, to the moment when their plan went to shit and they got their arses kicked.

‘Lucky I turned up when I did,’ said Sam.

They nodded.

‘And I’m to understand that neither of you started the pushing and shoving, right?’

Ethan and Johnny nodded again.

‘Why didn’t you just bolt? Fighting isn’t clever or glamorous. Most of the time it’s best to just hit hard and run away. How did it get out of hand so quickly?’

‘They grabbed me first,’ said Johnny, ‘before I could do anything about it. Ethan just jumped in to help. I don’t think they were expecting it. Then it all kicked off.’

Sam turned to Ethan. ‘So Jake phoned you and you decided to come over here, but you weren’t looking for a fight?’

‘No,’ said Ethan firmly, slowly realizing that he was in an awful lot of pain. ‘I just wanted to stop him doing whatever he was doing. I figured that whatever it was couldn’t be good. Didn’t figure he’d have two other blokes with him.’

‘That was your first mistake,’ said Sam. ‘Always plan for what might happen if everything goes to shit. That way, when it does, you might be able to get out of it.’

Ethan felt this was suspiciously like getting a bollocking – which didn’t seem very fair, considering he and Johnny had done their best to save the rigs.

‘Can you remember where your bike is, Ethan?’

Sam’s question pulled Ethan from his thoughts and he simply nodded.

‘Good. I’ll give you a lift. You both did well tonight. Thank you.’

Ethan looked at Johnny. Had they really just heard that?

Sam got up from behind his desk. ‘Move it, you two. I’ve a busy day tomorrow. Even more so now that I’ve got to sort out the damage done by Jake and his pals.’

As they headed for the door, Ethan asked, ‘What are you going to do? Call the police?’

‘That’s for me to think about, not you,’ said Sam. ‘And for now we keep this in the team. I’ll find my own way of dealing with Jake. In my own time. Now shift it.’

Johnny came over to Ethan, sat down, grabbed the Coke can from his hand and took a sip.

‘Help yourself,’ said Ethan.

‘Thanks, I will,’ said Johnny, taking another swig before handing it back.

They were both sitting outside the hangar, rigged up and ready for another jump, their second of the day. FreeFall was busy, business was good. It was a couple of weeks since the run-in with Jake, and despite the damage to the rigs, Sam had managed to call in a few favours and everything was running smoothly. Nothing about Jake’s unwelcome visit had been mentioned since. They had cobbled together a believable cover story to explain their bruises – a run-in between a tree and Johnny’s motorbike.

Ethan’s final two consolidation jumps had gone by so quickly and smoothly he’d hardly noticed them. He was now diving solo and getting in at least one jump a day, depending on the weather and how busy things were at FreeFall. He’d even had the chance to fly a Raider, which had been scary as hell but a total blast. Luke had laid it on thick with the instructions for flying such a responsive canopy. Ethan had listened carefully, and it had paid off because the thing had handled amazingly – like it was hardwired to the wind; you directed it, it didn’t hesitate. And it was tiny – no bigger than a fashionable daysack when it was packed up, little larger than a power kite when deployed. And, as Johnny had said back when Ethan had met him on his first day at FreeFall, small, fast and scary.

A shadow fell across Ethan and Johnny and they looked up to find Sam standing over them, binoculars in his hand.

‘Another good jump, Ethan,’ he said. ‘Well done.’

‘Thanks,’ said Ethan to Sam’s back as he headed off to his office.

‘A man of few words,’ said Johnny, and Ethan nodded. ‘Incidentally, are you trying to make a habit of impressing him?’

Ethan turned at Johnny’s question. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, just look at you. It’s like you belong here or something. From tandem rookie to skydiver in just a few weeks. It’s pretty impressive.’

‘No it’s not,’ said Ethan, shrugging. ‘It’s like most things: do what you’re told to do and do it properly and you’ll probably be OK at it.’