PART 4
Holt’s face went pale.
“Are you sure?”
Ava watched one fighter kneel behind the weapon while another fed ammunition into place.
A third pointed down toward the trapped Rangers.
The angle was perfect.
Once that gun opened, it would rake the ravine from end to end.
Cover would become decoration.
Training would become memory.
“They’ll be online in under a minute,” Ava said.
Holt swallowed.
“Range?”
“Too far for comfort.”
“Ava.”
She finally glanced at him.
He had never used her first name in the field.
His mouth had gone dry.
“That’s nearly two miles through trees and fog. Against moving men. Nobody makes that shot.”
Ava looked back through the scope.
In that instant, eight months of jokes fell away.
Ghost Rifle.
Quiet Stroud.
The sniper who never shot.
The woman with the classified transfer and eyes that never seemed surprised by danger.
All of it disappeared.
What remained was simple.
Fourteen Rangers in a ravine.
One weapon about to erase them.
And one person close enough to see the answer.
Her voice was almost gentle.
“Call what you see, Holt.”
He stared at her.
She settled behind the rifle.
“Call what you see.”
Holt forced himself back into the scope.
“Wind left to right. Fog moving uneven. Target partially obscured. Three men on the shelf.”
Ava slowed her breathing.
The world narrowed.
The radio exploded again.
“Raven, they’re pushing! We can’t hold!”
Rudd’s voice came after, louder than before.
“Stroud, if you can hear me, do something!”
Ava exhaled.
May you like
The rifle cracked.
Two miles away, the man behind the machine gun dropped before the weapon could fire.
