Page 12 of Silent Target

“Get down.”

The first shot strikes the pillar beside my head.

Concrete explodes across my face.

I hit the ground as a second bullet punches through the windshield of the car behind me.

Caleb moves faster than I believed a man his size could move.

One moment he’s ten feet away.

The next, his arm is around my waist, dragging me behind a parked SUV.

A third shot cracks through the garage.

The passenger window above us shatters.

I cover my head as broken glass rains over Caleb’s shoulders.

He pushes me low against the concrete and shields me with his body.

His breath is warm against my ear.

“Three shooters.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Different positions. Different weapons.”

A bullet slams into the SUV.

Metal screams above us.

Caleb doesn’t flinch.

His hands are steady. His breathing is even. His eyes remain fixed on reflections in the broken glass scattered across the floor.

The reports called him one of the most gifted snipers in modern special operations.

They didn’t explain what that meant.

He sees the world differently.

Every sound is information.

Every shadow is a warning.

Every angle is either an escape or a place someone can die.

“Can you run?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Good.”