Page 53 of Silent Target

From nine hundred yards away, it will look like a piece of equipment catching the light as someone moves.

I pull the branch upward.

A shot comes immediately.

The coat jerks.

I see the muzzle flash.

High ridge.

Eleven o’clock.

Nine hundred and twelve yards.

Wind moving right to left.

I settle behind my rifle.

Evie watches me.

Everything else disappears.

The search teams.

The shouting.

The pain burning across my side.

There is only the scope.

The target.

The math.

I inhale.

Exhale.

Wait between heartbeats.

Then squeeze the trigger.

The rifle bucks against my shoulder.

Across the valley, a dark shape pitches backward from the rocks.

“One down,” I say.

Evie looks toward the distant ridge. “One?”

A second shot strikes the dirt beside us.

I pull her lower.

“Unfortunately.”

There’s another one.