Page 102 of Bulletproof Jack: Hunting Lee Child's Jack Reacher

“Now,” she replied.

Like a choreographed dance, they reached up, pulled the door handles, and pushed the doors open at the same time.

Before their feet hit the ground, more bullets pierced both doors.

They hurried out of the SUV, crouched low, through the rain.

They ran to opposite sides of the road and flattened into the muddy vineyard.

The exercise proved two things.

There were two shooters.

One was positioned behind the front wheel and the other behind the rear wheel of the sedan.

The engine block would stop bullets in the front of the sedan. The gas tank in the back would not.

Unless the sedan was armored, the guy behind the rear wheel was vulnerable.

Kim crouched low and advanced toward the sedan, using the rain and darkness and silence to conceal her movements.

If the shooter had night vision, he’d be able to see her. In which case, he’d shoot again. Which would reveal his location and she’d return fire.

Otherwise, she could get eyes on him first.

Either way, moving in was the only real chance she had to disable him.

The storm had intensified. Thunder, rain, and wind were loud enough to cover any noises she might have made. The only lightning was in the distance, too far away to reveal her position.

She imagined the shooter’s mental state. He’d lost sight of her. Was he worried? Concerned? How much patience did he have? Would he try to outlast her?

Kim was only a few feet from the sedan now.

An exceptionally loud thunderclap blasted through the quiet. Followed by a round of gunfire from the vineyard where Russell was dealing with the second shooter.

She hit the ground between two rows of grape vines half a moment before the lightning bolt brightened the entire area like a circus spotlight.

Briefly.

Kim had focused on the sedan and the area around it while the lightning flashed. She’d seen the shooter.

His back was flattened against the car. Feet near the rear tires. The rest of his body concealed by the rear pillar.

Kim stood, aimed, fired, while she still had a clear image of his position. He left his cover, pivoted on his right foot and planted his left foot eighteen inches away.

Assuming a shooter’s stance ingrained by law enforcement training everywhere, he aimed to fire.

Kim shot first. Three times. Center mass.

The lightning flash ended.

She was once again blinded by the dark.

Kim fell to the ground and crawled away, moving in an oblique direction from where she’d stood to aim.

She waited for the shooter to try again.

She heard nothing but silence at first.

---