Page 48 of Silent Target

Nothing Caleb says in that tone is ever good.

He scans the ridgeline.

Then I see it.

A tiny flash of sunlight against glass.

Caleb lunges toward me.

The shot cracks across the valley as he drags me behind a thick oak.

Bark explodes where my head was a heartbeat earlier.

“He almost killed me.”

“No.”

I stare at Caleb. “I was there. He definitely almost killed me.”

“He missed deliberately.”

“Why?”

“He’s adjusting for the wind.”

A second round strikes the tree lower than the first.

Closer.

The sniper is walking his shots toward us.

Caleb’s expression changes.

His breathing slows.

The exhaustion disappears from his face.

This is his world.

And somewhere across the valley, another sniper has just challenged him inside it.

9

CALEB

The second round strikes six inches lower.

The shooter is good.

Patient.

Confident enough to use us to test the wind.

For the first time in years, I feel something I didn’t expect.

Respect.

It won’t keep me from killing him.