The airplane was going down hard. Now the hatch had swung open, the cabin depressurized and air tore at my clothes, and eyes which wept from the violent whipping.

Leah’s plan had unfolded without a hitch, not that I had any doubts. Well, it was her first time taking point on a heist and I knew well enough to keep my opinion to myself when she made the arrangements. Leah’s a smart girl for sure but man, but man! Doesn’t she let everyone know it.

“Keep going, Brent,” she urged me over the din, eyes barely touching mine before she continued on. Neatly stepping, as if we weren’t all going down on a soon to be obliterated plane, Leah swiped away any prints from the gleaming silver with a handkerchief. Had she forgotten this plane will be a smoking wreck in minus 5 minutes or what? Again she barked, “It’s not done until it’s done.”

I turned so she didn’t catch my eyeroll. One job done and she thinks she is the top dog. I made a mental note to set her straight later, once she’d had a few celebratory champs and calmed down a bit. Besides, who exactly did she imagine would be looking for fingerprints? With us zipping to safety, the flight logs appropriately fiddled with (and mind you, without even a “thank-you Brent!”) and the pilot about to be mincemeat, this was an open and shut case for police.

In the inner cabin, Sam had finished stacking the green wads away, nestled into Kevlar bags. As I watched, Sam snaps the parachute straps down and tight on the bags. I thought of how pretty the bag would look on the passenger seat of my Aston that sat waiting for me on land. A pity, the whole backseat filled out bags would look even better. I licked my lips at the thought. Too late now, but a nice thought for the next job. Maybe I’ll be in the captain’s seat this time, and who knows if we all make it this time. Maybe just one of us, maybe me, to look after all these fat black dumplings of cash. It’s a risky business after all…

Tree tops started to form from a misty green-grey haze into shapes with edges. “Time to go!” I shout, squeezing past Leah back to my spot. The seat is empty. My stomach drops. “Hey guys, where the fucks my parachute?” I turn to Leah in the same second that she snaps down her own chute securely. Out the window, the forest was starting to look more like actual trees. “Where the FUCK is mine?” I repeat, stomping closer to Leah. Sam sends the payload out the hatch. I wheel on him. “What in the FUCK are you doing?” He stares back at me soundlessly. My voice comes out as a scream. “What happened to the plan?” Leah steps over primly and grabs Sam hand in one motion and addresses me. The look in her eyes is an anvil to my gut. I can barely hear her as the roar intensifies. “The plan is working perfectly,” she says, before pulling her body and Sam’s out the window. I watch as two sheets balloon out into round shapes, catching the wind and jerking up. And that was the moment I realized it wasn’t ever the plan for me to make it out alive.