The Kill Order

Chapter 7

I had avoided the town for several days, visiting the apartment only to switch out clothing. The rest of my time I spent at the base. Jennifer finally removed the stitches in my arm and proclaimed I was fully healed, which meant I was cleared for active field duty again.

Thank god. I couldn’t imagine another week without being able to shoot something.

The first day after receiving my medical clearance, I dragged Johnson out to the woods with me for some target practice. It was somewhat of a peace offering on my part, for the last few days I’d wanted some distance between the two of us. We were getting dangerously close to becoming a regular thing. I had to put a stop to it.

His broken nose was healing well; Jennifer had done a great job setting it straight. From her excited texts a few nights ago, I guess Johnson had followed through on sending Troyan to the medic with a punch to the ribs.

For safety purposes, we had both suited up in our tactical gear, with the exception of the helmets. I wanted to make sure I still had it without the targeting visor. Johnson had set up a few targets for me ranging between five hundred and two thousand yards out, and I’d formed a mock nest for myself on the ground this time. I might be medically cleared, but I wasn’t really interested in climbing any trees for the time being.

The weight of my rifle was reassuring in my hands. Not being able to work with it had been like having a limb removed – my body knew I was missing something, and I caught myself reaching for it even when it wasn’t there. I waited to take my first shot until Johnson was back by my side.

There was a serenity to setting up a kill shot. It was like meditation for me, with a clear mind and even breaths, waiting for just the perfect moment. Sitting there under the trees, with my eyes on a target, that was where I belonged. The whole rest of the world fell away from me in those moments. I didn’t have any worries about my undercover mission, or why Mason hadn’t called, or if Johnson was angry that I’d been staying exclusively in my room. I was just a girl, holding a gun, with her eye on the prize.

Everything else was just a distraction, and my life had no room for distractions.

After accounting for the wind, I pulled the trigger and watched the first target explode on impact.

A smile crept across my face as I released the spent casing and loaded another bullet. The wind picked up briefly, but I was willing to wait it out. A huge amount of sniper training focused on patience – don’t take a shot that’s not perfect. I adjusted the sandbags holding up my rifle to perfect the aim. The further the distance, the more things could go wrong.

Another pull, another bang, another impact.

This is what I was made for.

I was down to my last target, the two thousand yard shot, when my phone suddenly started buzzing. It snapped my concentration. I pulled the device out of my pocket, scowling the entire time as I pressed the button to accept the call.

“What?” I snapped.

“Did you really program your name into my phone as Meathead Shep?” Mason sounded more amused than bothered by my abrupt phone answering technique.