Page 135 of Silent Target

Evie changed the pattern.

I wait.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

Specter expects me to become impatient because he’s targeting her.

I don’t.

Fear for Evie becomes something cold and precise inside me.

The barrel shifts.

Emergency light glints against the edge of an optic.

A reflection no larger than the head of a pin.

I fire.

The sound rolls through the tunnel.

No shot answers.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Twenty.

Rook signals the advance.

We move one step at a time, watching every seam, pipe, and recess.

The hide emerges from the wall.

Concrete blocks.

Steel mesh.

Painted camouflage screening.

Someone spent weeks building it.

Specter is slumped behind his rifle.

My round struck high in his shoulder, knocking him backward into the ventilation frame.

He’s alive.

Barely conscious.

Rook kicks his rifle away.

Mac stops when he sees the silver coin around the sniper’s neck.