Mason Armstrong: Secret Agent

Chapter 1: The jump

Mason Armstrong could feel his heartbeat in his head. He stood at the door of a Harrier Jet, about to make his first skydive. As a 18-year-old spy only just promoted to active agent, things really couldn't get more high-level. The flight attendant made her way towards him. He couldn't help but notice her slim figure, pale blue eyes and smooth complexion, although he could tell that she was a bit older than him and way out of his league. Senses had all kicked into overdrive with adrenaline, and he saw and felt everything. 'This is good,' he thought to himself, 'This means I will be ready for anything!'

The flight attendant raised her tanned fingers, and silently counted down. 10... 9... 8... Mason felt every small crest of turbulence, every shudder, every slight direction change of the jet.
7... 6... 5... He saw the three different shades of grey used in the jet interior, the remnants of blood coating the floor, the faded coffee stain on the flight attendant's uniform.
4... 3... 2... Can't turn back now.
1... And jump!

Wind whipped on Mason's eardrums as he plummeted towards his destination. He could smell it now, the salty sea air, the fresh, flowery smell of a jungle, the crisp smell of a world yet undiscovered... The island (if a landmass so large could be called that) hurtled towards him at an alarming rate, and fear began to rise in him instinctively. He pushed it down with superhuman strength, and pulled the cord on his parachute.

He heard a whoosh. He saw the golden cloth rise into the air. He felt the weight on his back get lighter. He did not, however, feel himself slow down. In fact, he did not slow down. The cut cords of the parachute dangled above him, already fading from view, as he plummeted at terminal velocity towards the Pacific Ocean...