Page 64 of Silent Target

“You do?”

“He’s lying.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because that’s what Mac does when he has something valuable.”

“What?”

“He makes people angry enough to ask the wrong questions.”

The guard hits him again.

Mac’s laughter continues.

They haven’t broken him.

They may not have turned him either.

Rook’s voice comes through the radio.

“We’re in position.”

I look toward the southern tree line.

I don’t see them.

Exactly as it should be.

“Cobra?”

“Ready.”

“Fathom?”

“Watching everything.”

Mac is forced back to his feet.

One of the guards takes hold of his chains and turns him toward the bunker.

If Mac crosses that threshold, we may never get him back.

I position the crosshairs over the steel link between his wrists.

Eight hundred and twelve yards.

Crosswind moving left.

Humidity rising.

Evie sees where I’m aiming.

“You’re not shooting at Mac.”

“No.”

“You’re aiming at the chain.”