Page 29 of Evening Shadows

“We can eighty-six this spot,” she decided without wasting any more time. She sighted something that had her moving forward. “Follow me,” she quietly directed.

Knowing that if guards were patrolling the jungle they could be overhead, they didn’t rush, even though she wanted to do so. She had patience galore when in position, but making it there with that much patience was a lost art for her.

More than once they stopped each other to listen. Although they heard nothing, they still waited before moving forward again.

Ken touched her arm to stop her once again, and as she searched the area, he whispered, “Where the hell are you going?”

With a nod in the forward direction, they moved again, and she noticed his limp become more prominent.

Sam grimaced when they stopped. The area she’d sighted, while only covered in vines and some small leaves growing up from the ground, happened to be larger than she’d expected. Still out of view from the compound and open area around it, the space left them more vulnerable than she liked. They sat about one-quarter mile away.

Knowing the risks, Ken nodded in approval at her relocation. “See if you have a hole while I check out six.” He turned away and moved quietly behind them.

Even though she saw nothing but his back, she nodded, flipped her hat backward, and settled on the uncomfortable ground. Her joking team had been right about her lying on the wet ground. The vines, which she’d ensured weren’t snakes, gave her the willies. She shuddered again at the thought of big snakes and tried to put the phobia from her mind. Lord knew it was full enough today with non-sniper stuff.

It took a bit of positioning to find a hole with enough concealment for her and Ken, and clear to the compound. Ken would have a tougher time finding an opening. She normally worked without a spotter, so maybe he could join the fray and leave her be.

Admittedly, having a spotter would be better, especially with the short distance and cover, but something besides her confusion about her husband’s death had her wanting to reject his help. Thoughts of Cody and what she might need to save him made her freeze any personal thoughts in their tracks. She could use a spotter to give her as much support as possible.

As they set up, Ken nodded to her piece and asked, “How do you like it?”

Smiling at her new Accuracy International AXMC, she nodded. “He definitely came through on this one.”

“Devon says it’s the Ferrari of sniper rifles and, although Jesse and Nemo each argued for their own rifle, he assured them it’s the most accurate as far as he’d found.”

“I don’t know about it being the Ferrari, but I agree on the accuracy.”

Ken softly snorted. “He might’ve been referring to cost.”

Rubbing her hand up and down the smooth barrel, she smiled. “I wouldn’t disagree there.”

His gaze focused on her hand and the unintentional sensual movement. His jaw clenched, but he swallowed hard. She realized what he must be thinking. Many men would, but that hadn’t been her intent. Heat rose in her face, hopefully covered by her green and black face paint. She stopped her movement and turned back to her task.

Ken cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you go with the Barrett M82? You could shoot through concrete and brick to hit your target.”

“While that would be cool,” she said with a sly smile, “I want range, and the M82 isn’t as long-range as this one tested at. Anti-material is the primary use of the M82. You didn’t hire me for that.”

“Aren’t there some long-range shots with the M82? I thought I heard about one in Desert Storm.”

She snorted. “Lucky shot.”

She didn’t expound, so he dropped on the ground beside her since, as she’d anticipated, if he set up the tripod to spot, he couldn’t see. After he made a hasty search, he identified reference points and sectors. As he finally directed her to each target, he listened as she described every man in detail except for underwear and eye color.

Franks updated them on the team’s location, which she’d searched, and applauded them for blending so well. Then she briefed the team on what threats existed.

“Here’s the 411. Four towers, north, south, east, and west. West is sleeping and north is bouncing his head to the music instead of paying attention.”

“Dumb asses,” Cowboy inserted.

Ignoring that, she continued, “Two roving guards outside compound. Two entry gates—west and east—five-hundred meters from cover to entry. Walls are about two and half meters and scalable. House is fifty meters from entry. There appears to be a barracks fifty meters to the south of the house. Size could house ten. Twenty with twin bunks.”

Stone interrupted. “Am I too late for the party? ETA twenty.”

Ken stiffened next to her. “Sitrep.”

“Ran into a snafu.”

It didn’t matter what Bev had done now. It couldn’t have been in Cody’s best interest. As soon as she returned to the States, Sam would petition the court for custody. Being a single woman would hurt her, but staying with Bev would hurt Cody.

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