August 1982

Higher and higher the plane climbed, sailing through a blue sky past clouds tinged with gold. Within the plane sat six men, garbed in insulated jumpsuits, anticipating the coming drop. Most were grinning wildly, hardly able to sit still, but a few sat motionless, tightly gripping their hands, shoulders tense.

Though Ian presented a blank face to the candidates, he was feeling the nerves more, as loathe as he was to acknowledge the fact. He focused his gaze on his lap, hoping that his breathing only sounded loud in his head, and that no one else could hear him over the radio system. There's nothing to worry about. It's just skydiving. Tons of other people have done it before. Unlike the candidates, Ian had nothing at stake. Before the test, Noel had made sure to inform him that the only potential danger existed within the candidates' minds.

"Each man will have a parachute," Ian recalled Noel saying. "The trick is to make them think that one of them doesn't. Coping with the unexpected is an important quality at Kingsman."

"Won't it be ruined for me now that I know the secret?" Ian had said. "Doesn't sound like the most effective learning experience."

"I'm not going to send you out there thinking I might have screwed you over," Noel said, a touch of vague displeasure in his voice. "Just gain some acting skills, and you'll be fine."

Noel didn't realize just how easily acting came to Ian. He was ready to play his part as the clueless recruit who knew no more than the others. But he still didn't relish the idea of jumping out of a plane from thousands of feet in the air. A solo jump might have proved more comfortable, but descending alongside five hysterical, panicking candidates didn't sound like a good time. However, when Ian considered backing out- just staying on the plane and forgetting the rest of the test- he heard Noel's voice in his head.

The more you work at overcoming your fear, the more well-rounded you will become. And then you'll be good.

You'll be good, Ian whispered to himself in his mind. You'll be good. Just a few more tests, and then Ian would be free to pursue his interests within the organization. The day couldn't come soon enough.

"Drop zone coming up in thirty seconds."

As soon as Merlin's voice sounded in Harry's ears, a thrill of exhilaration shocked him from head to toe. He nudged Damon, who gleefully nudged him right back. "You ready to go, Harry?"

"Of course," Harry responded with a wide smile. "Let's do this." He'd been ready since the announcement of the test that morning. As he'd suited up and clambered onto the plane, all he could picture was the upcoming drop. The higher the plane climbed, the higher his spirits mounted.

One by one, the candidates rose from their seats and filed into lines of three. A rush of cool air swept through the plane as the back exit opened, and Harry trembled with excitement. The two men ahead of Harry made the jump, the white, wispy clouds swallowing them whole. Stepping up, Harry savored the view of the blue sky stretching out endlessly before him. Wind nipped at him, but its chill was unable to penetrate the HALO suit.

Can this be real? Am I really about to do this? Just a few months ago, Harry hadn't dared to imagine a future so bright. But now, with a touch of fate and a lot of training, he was ready for the challenges the world had in store for him. He was still Harry Hart, but a better man than ever before.

He filled his lungs with a deep breath and stepped off, plunging into space.

At first the speed of acceleration was overwhelming, driving all awareness from Harry's mind as he broke through the clouds. Then the ground below came into view, eliciting a sharp gasp. This high in the sky, the earth's surface was nothing more than a patchwork of brown and green. Tiny white boxes dotted the landscape, so small that Harry imagined he could crush them with his finger. He was unable to make out any human life. They had faded into insignificance, turning the Earth into an unpopulated wasteland.

Harry's eyes widened, and his smile stretched until he felt his face was going to split apart. Plenty of times he'd dreamed of flying, but he should have guessed that nothing could compare to the real thing. Here in freefall, the concept of time faded into a distant memory. Adrenaline pumped through Harry's system, his mind alight with wonder.

He had never felt more alive.

Ian was the last to leave the plane. He tumbled haphazardly, head over heels, as the plane overhead shrunk to a blip in the sky.

Predictably, his heart was pounding like a rabbit's. He was acutely conscious of his lack of support. The closest surface was miles below. Nothing but a flimsy stretch of fabric prevented Ian from splattering like a bug stamped across the pavement.

"Stop it," Ian muttered, shaking his head. That line of thinking will do you no good. He flipped himself over onto his stomach, joining the formation of candidates below.

A series of whoops and cheers rocketed through Ian's radio, a jubilant greeting. All of the candidates were ecstatic, as carefree as could be. Gazing from face to smiling face, Ian's nerves dissolved. For once, no one was avoiding him or refusing to speak to him. No one was putting on self-centered airs. They were all one and the same, six young men falling through space, connected by a single experience. A few of the candidates spun themselves around in the air, while others simply spread out their arms to enjoy the sensation of freefall. For a few seconds, Ian forgot himself, a small smile creeping up on his face as he watched the cheerful display.

Then Noel's voice carried through the radio. "Well, wasn't that easy? Perhaps a bit too easy."

Ian shut his eyes, preparing himself for the shock. Calmly, Noel continued-

"A Kingsman must be ready for unforeseen circumstances. For example… when one member of your party hasn't got a parachute."

Even though Noel had let him in on the secret, a cold sweat broke out over Ian's skin. The inevitable shouting began.

"What's he saying? One of us…"

"Oh, fuck!"

"He can't be serious. He can't…"

"I can be," Noel said. "Just aim for the target, and you'll pass the test. Good luck."

Ian's eyes snapped open, to find five distressed faces staring back at him. He hurriedly composed his features to mirror them. Given the unease pulsing in the back of his mind, it wasn't a big stretch.

"Everyone, stay calm!" a voice rang out, momentarily silencing the candidates. "We need a plan!"

Harry Hart. Ian didn't find it surprising that he'd spoken first. When reviewing footage of the combat simulation, he'd noticed that Harry took the lead during that test as well.

The real question is, what kind of plan will he come up with?

"Like what?" Nick yelled back, the doubt in his voice barely masking his fear.

"Aren't there six of us?" Harry's eyes darted rapidly between them, confirming his count. "I say we pair up!"

"I get it!" exclaimed Damon, relief coloring his voice. "So whoever's missing a parachute can hold onto the person who's got one!"

Now that the plan had been established, an aura of calm settled across the group. Damon instantly took hold of Harry's hands, while Conrad reached for Isaac. Ian turned to Nick, but startled when a cry of suspicion cut through the air.

"Hey! He's not one of us!" Nick slapped Ian's shoulder. "He'sgot to be in on this! There's no fucking way Merlin would kill his own intern!"

Or his own nephew… Ian shook his head, uncomfortable with the malicious look in Nick's eye. "Trust me, I don't know any more than you do!"

"Come on!" Nick insisted. "Pull your cord. Prove to us that you've got a parachute."

Desperately Ian searched the ground for the target. "I'm not going to do that! We're too high-"

His words broke off into a short yelp as Nick, without warning, yanked the cord on his parachute. One jolt of motion jerked Ian upright. Slowly, he floated away from the candidates.

At first, relief washed over him. Thank God my parachute worked…

Then he realized that the shouting had started again.

"You stupid fucker, Nick!" Isaac yelled at the top of his voice. "You should have held onto him if you knew he had a parachute!"

"Well, who's to say I haven't got one?" Nick sneered. He released his very-much-existent parachute, bobbing upwards into a slow drift.

Harry breathed a heavy sigh through the radio link. "Now… there are four of us." His voice was strained, the dire situation finally catching up to him.

"No problem," Isaac promptly said. "I'm not scared." He reached over and pulled his cord, the force of his upward motion breaking his contact with Conrad. Conrad swore loudly and swam through the air to Damon and Harry's side.

"Now what?" he said, his voice shaking slightly.

Damon replied in an astonishingly gentle tone. "We've got you, Conrad, old buddy! Hold onto Harry and I. If you're going down, we're going down with you."

Not the most comforting way of putting it, Ian thought. But certainly a good idea. He watched as the men arranged themselves into a triangle, black spots against the green grass. Somewhere underneath them was the white Kingsman insignia, the target of their landing. Based on the trio's position, Ian realized that they'd kept the objective in mind, unlike the others who were merely concerned with self-preservation.

Conrad was the first to unleash his parachute, the white fabric billowing out as he shot upwards. Instantly Damon and Harry closed the circle, locking their arms around each other. Each one's hand drifted to the other's pull cord.

"Harry," Damon began, breathless. "If we don't make it, I'd like you to tell my family they're dead to me."

"Okay," Harry replied wryly, "but you'll be dead to them too."

And before Ian could process the unexpected outcome, both pulled the cords at the same time.

Instantly Damon and Harry drifted apart, the appearance of their parachutes eliciting surprised shouts from everyone except Ian. He swallowed, realizing that his mouth had gone dry. They figured it out! How in the world had they figured it out?

He wondered what Noel was going to say once they reached the ground.

Harry was hardly surprised when his parachute activated, but Damon was clearly shocked. He let out a cry as the parachute tugged him upward, slackening his grip on Harry's hand. Harry only inhaled sharply as they were pulled apart. For a moment, an unspeakable and dizzying amount of relief flooded him. Thank God. He'd gambled on an unlikely result, and won.

"What was that?" Damon blurted as they slowly drifted to earth, the big K below steadily growing.

Wanting to save his assumption for when they had reached the ground, Harry broke into laughter. The sound was shaky from the adrenaline draining out of his system, but it was infectious. In no time the rest of the candidates were laughing with him. Tilting his head, Harry gazed up at all the parachutes floating above him. He picked out Conrad from the group and waved to him.

"We made it." The words tasted like victory. "We lived."

By the time Harry reached solid ground, Merlin was standing just outside the K. He waited patiently for all the candidates to arrive before calling them to attention. With strict eyes, he scrutinized them, but for once Harry couldn't care less about the possibility of elimination. His stomach was alight with embers, sending a pleasantly warm glow throughout his body.

"Nick," Merlin said immediately. "Taking the risk you did and pulling another man's cord like that is highly unprofessional. Not to mention it defeats the purpose of teamwork. Isaac, you didn't check to make sure you were positioned in the target. That lack of foresight might have cost you in action. Both of you, go back to the barracks and pack up."

Though a flicker of resentment crossed Nick's face, he and Isaac left without a word of protest. Out of the corners of his eyes, Harry glanced at Conrad and Damon, excitement rising in him. Could this be it?

"Congratulations, Harry, Damon," Merlin said. "Both of you managed to keep a cool head in a potentially life-threatening situation, completing your assignment and looking out for your teammates at the same time. Those are invaluable qualities for a Kingsman agent."

At last his gaze shifted onto Harry, who stared right back at him, waiting patiently for the inevitable question. The explanation was already on the tip of his tongue, like a bomb about to explode.

"However," Merlin said, "what made you think that both of you had a parachute?"

Harry grinned.

"When you informed us of our situation, sir, you said 'for example.' You never specifically mentioned that one of us was missing a parachute. It was worth taking a chance."

Slowly Merlin cocked his head, neither visibly impressed, nor expressing disappointment.

"In that case, well-played," he said at last. "But gambles like that don't always pay off in the field. Just remember that. Now fall out."

Harry nodded and made for the mansion. He had hardly taken a few steps before Damon came bounding up beside him.

"I can't believe it!" he gasped, raising his hand in the air. "We've made the top three!"

Smiling, Harry reached out to finish the high-five. "I knew we could do it."

"Wait up!" Conrad called from behind them. Damon abandoned Harry's side and raced over to meet his friend. Harry stopped and turned around, his smile growing wider as he watched Damon tackle Conrad.

"I'm over the Moon!" Damon declared, laughing helplessly as Conrad wrestled him to the ground. "Nothing can stop us now!"

While the top three remained in high spirits for the rest of the day, their conversation tapered off over dinner, until even Damon had shut up. Walking back to the barracks was a solitary affair, and if it hadn't been for Mr. Pickle at his side Harry would have been utterly lost in his head.

Terry and John's elimination had significantly reduced the amount of chatter and action in the barracks, but Harry felt the loss of Nick and Isaac more acutely. It was especially noticeable when Damon curled up on the couch and turned the television on. The drone of the TV had always served as nothing more than background noise for Harry, but tonight it occupied all of his attention. Beside him, Conrad settled into his book for the night, and at the foot of his bed Mr. Pickle burrowed into the covers. But Harry continued to stare at the noisy TV, his head spinning with thoughts on the brink of overflow.

To think that the two people Harry had grown closest to during training were now alongside him as the final contenders! And I wouldn't have it any other way. Losing the position of Galahad to Conrad or Damon didn't seem like a crushing blow. They both deserved it, just as much as he did.

Yet Harry couldn't imagine his future without Kingsman in it. All that hard work he had put in, and for what? Would Basil be disappointed in the candidate he had chosen? Automatically Harry shied away from that thought. Basil had trusted him to fulfill his lofty expectations. He couldn't start second-guessing himself now. If not for Basil, he'd do it for himself. The tantalizing images rose in his mind, walking alongside his old film heroes in a brand-new bespoke suit and swinging a walking stick like Basil's. If he were eliminated now, he'd never get the chance to live in that world again.

This time… it's now or never.

The TV shut off, snapping Harry out of his daydreams. He watched as Damon got to his feet and yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Light's out soon. Let's go."

Harry glanced down to find Mr. Pickle already asleep. He chuckled to himself and leaned over to pat the dog on the head before getting up. Conrad was still sitting motionless in bed. The book he'd been reading had slipped from his hands, and he was staring into space with a pensive, somewhat moody look on his face.

"Conrad?" Harry said lightly. "Are you all right?"

"I shouldn't be here," Conrad muttered.

Damon, halfway to the sinks, halted and turned back, his forehead creasing. "What are you talking about, Conrad? You made it through all the tests so far. Of course you should be here."

Conrad shook his head, his eyes darting down to study the cover of his book. "No, you don't understand. I'm lucky to be here with you two. I didn't…"

He shrugged and leaned heavily against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

"You know, maybe those bastards John and Terry and Frederick were right. Maybe I'm just a four-eyed pig who made it this far 'cause Merlin took pity on me."

"What the fuck?" Damon cried at once, indignation blazing across his face. "That's bullshit, Conrad, and you know it!"

"Don't listen to them," Harry murmured. "Don't even waste another moment thinking about them. Narrow-minded pricks like that lot aren't worth your time."

Conrad just sighed again and closed his eyes, sinking into his mattress. "They may have been complete assholes, but they did have a point. I mean, look at you two. Even among the three of us, I'm still the odd one out. You were already fit and well-studied when you entered the program. You were prepared." He reached up to rub circles into the center of his forehead, brushing away a stray lock of hair. "I should have been more prepared, but… I wasn't. I knew I'd have to- I knew I- Fuck." Conrad's eyes snapped open, and he gazed helplessly up at Damon and Harry with the expression of a deer trapped in headlights. "I had my whole life to prepare, but I'm still not ready. That's why I shouldn't be here. Not with you. I'm just a fucking disgrace."

An impulse to touch Conrad rose in Harry- just to lay his hand on his shoulder, nothing more. But he couldn't bring himself to move closer. All he could do was shake his head.

"You think I was prepared to join Kingsman all this time?" he said. "The only reason I've excelled at the physical training is that I used to play rugby. I'd never held a weapon before our first day on the shooting range."

Damon began to laugh, an unhinged sound. In between his gasps for air, he managed to get out, "And you think it matters what university I went to? I dropped out of every one of them! When my parents contacted my godfather, I was loafing about on my arse all day, bored to tears!"

"Are you serious?" Conrad stated, staring incredulously from Damon to Harry.

Damon waited to catch his breath before striding purposefully over to Conrad's bed. Sitting down next to him, he laid his hand on Conrad's shoulder, and a jolt went through Harry to see Damon so unhindered by apprehension. Conrad opened his eyes to see Damon staring severely at him.

"You listen here. Don't ever say that you don't belong with us. You're just as strong and smart as any of the rest of them. Think about it- all of those assholes were eliminated before you were! And you made it to the fucking top three!" Slowly Damon's hand slid off of Conrad's shoulder, but his eyes remained anchored on Conrad's face. "I'll be honest. I don't care which one of us becomes Galahad. It'd be a huge fucking honor for any of us, and if you ask me I think we all deserve it."

"My thoughts exactly," Harry said. He moved closer to the two, wondering how much distance between them was acceptable and whether or not Conrad minded. "We are all worthy of this honor. As a friend of mine once said, don't let yourself be crushed by self-doubt. Especially not at this crucial time. Whatever the future holds, I think we should all be satisfied no matter the outcome."

He waited for the words to sink in, until finally Conrad broke the silence.

"I… I'm so glad I met you two."

"Likewise," Damon replied cheerfully, patting Conrad's shoulder. Harry came closer, leaving his bed to sit down on Conrad's other side.

"For me as well," he said softly.

Even if we never see each other again.