It was a paradox of time, 1969, when a parachute was all that could have stopped a frozen second. He was falling, his heartbeat racing and his life flashing straight right infront of his eyes. It was a moment of forgiveness he sought for sins he did not even remember committing. A realization that reality only had you until there was no more room. Yet fate has its way of saving the falling and sealing the deal. Your time is never really up until it really is. That's the magic of life. Reynolds would be reunited with his life for he saved his desperation and focused on not dying. He fought to the ground and somehow his bag popped out of the parachute just before he lost his breath. It's that time breathing ever mattered to him the most and if Mercy is the girl life gave him by chance, he had almost fallen in love. Being in the army gives you purpose but never entirely the true purpose of your own life. The Navy had taught him how to live and how to survive. What we end up doing with the life we have is instrumental. Fighting wars we do not understand and pulling triggers on who's never wronged us; an instrument to forgetting what we want. Adrenaline rush is good for defence, instinct. Yet preparation has won more wars than skills. Sketching plans to please his superiors, Reynolds was always the best man for the job. He knew the right people and he used the best ways. But this one, this one was a job he had to finish by himself. He was cutting ends lose; a noose that would set his choke free. He was well ahead of time and if vengeance is what he wanted, he had had it the minute he saw the danger. Some people read through the signs and others ignore them. We all understand in our own ways so the more you know the better and easier it is to put two and two together. Reynolds was a man of his words and this time where it pained the most; he had fallen in love with Grace and their child, Favour, was on her way.
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