Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 24
AsItakeChristian’shand,there’samountingexcitementinmybelly.Wow…gliding!WefollowMarkBensonoutacrossthetarmactowardtherunway.HeandChristiankeepuparunningconversation.Icatchthegist.WewillbeinaBlanikL-23,whichisapparentlybetterthantheL-13,althoughthisisopentodebate.BensonwillbeflyingaPiperPawnee.He’sbeenflyingtaildraggersforaboutfiveyearsnow.Itallmeansnothingtome,butglancingupatChristian,heissoanimated,soinhiselement,it’sapleasuretowatchhim.
Theplaneitselfislong,sleek,andwhitewithorangestripes.Ithasasmallcockpitwithtwoseats,oneinfrontoftheother.It’sattachedbyalongwhitecabletoasmall,conventionalsinglepropellerplane.Bensonopensthelarge,clearPerspexdomethatframesthecockpit,allowingustoclimbin.
“Firstweneedtostraponyourparachute.”
Parachute!
“I’lldothat,”ChristianinterruptshimandtakestheharnessfromBenson,whosmilesamenablyathim.
“I’llfetchsomeballast,”Bensonsays,andheadstowardtheplane.
“Youlikestrappingmeintothings,”Iobservedryly.
“MissSteele,youhavenoidea.Here,stepintothestraps.”
IdoasI’mtold,placingmyarmonhisshoulder.Christianstiffensslightlybutdoesn’tmove.Oncemyfeetareintheloops,hepullstheparachuteup,andIplacemyarmsthroughtheshoulderstraps.Deftlyhefastenstheharnessandtightensallthestraps.
“There,you’lldo,”hesaysmildly,buthiseyesaregleaming.“Doyouhaveyourhairtiefromyesterday?”
Inod.
