In the black of night he illuminates the altimeter strapped to his wrist. It reads 7,000 feet. This reconnaissance mission hinges on stealth. As he counts down the seconds before pulling the cord, he gathers his bearings. Hostile forces are bivouacked on naked bluffs overlooking a serpentine canyon 40 degrees north. In the cold winter air, light pollution from their camp glows through a haze of campfire smoke in the sky below him like crimson bioluminescence in the late summer ocean.
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