She went back to her scope, using the trees at the edge of the forest to gauge wind speed and direction, making the necessary adjustments before sealing the scope to her eye again, settling in. She panned to the quarry floor, picking up the lead gunman as he reached the ladder, aiming his rifle up its length.
A breath, then her finger compressing the trigger, the round dropped the guy a second later. His buddies froze, going to ground, their silhouettes vanishing behind solid cover.
The men at the top kept firing, the bullets shearing off the rails in a trail of sparks. She shifted, adjusted for the new angle and distance, then fired again, hitting the guy closest to her, knocking him back.
His buddy rolled out of sight, vanishing into the darkness, but she knew he’d set up another nest. One he thought would protect him from her. That, next time, she wouldn’t have the advantage.
She pushed the thought aside. At least, she’d bought Coulter some time. Cleared a path. Until shots stitched across the rock face, chewing through granite and sparking off the metal ladder. She panned up, caught a flash of muzzle fire above her, from a platform similar to hers, the steel girders supporting the weight blocking any kind of quality shot.
Unlike the open field they had down the cliff, putting Coulter in a virtual kill box. They hadn’t located him yet, the rain likely messing with their scope the way it had with hers, but it was only a matter of time. Once he reached the next junction, rose above the fog slowly creeping up the wall, the rain wouldn’t be enough to hide him. And climbing and firing wasn’t an option. Not with how rickety the ladder system was. How it looked as if a strong wind would blow it off the side.
She studied the adjoining catwalk. If she moved onto the metal grating, took up a position thirty feet out, she’d have a chance.
Wynn stared at her as she packed up her rifle, opened one of the adjoining windows. “Neve? What are you doing?”
She slung the rifle across her shoulders, muscling the pane up enough she could slip through. “Those assholes have a higher position. They’re going to walk their rounds down the ladder the moment he reaches the last section before our level. Tear him apart. I can’t let that happen.”
Wynn hooked her arm. “If you step out there, you’ll have zero cover. You’ll be an open target.”
Neve checked her mag. “I know.”
“They have a marksman. Maybe not as good as you, but at this distance, he won’t miss. The math says you take a round.”
Neve looked her dead in the eyes. “The math also says Coulter dies in the next sixty seconds.”
“Then, I’ll come, too. Lay down cover fire.”
Neve stopped trying to pull free. “I need you here.”
Wynn tightened her grip. “Neve…”
“If you go out there before I take them down, we’ll both get hit. But if you wait until after I fire, I might have a chance.”
“A chance at what? You’ll be dead.”
“For you to drag my ass back in here and keep me breathing long enough to see his face, again.”
Wynn pursed her lips, shaking her head before she cursed, nodded. “You better make both those shots count so I don’t take a round in the ass dragging yours back inside. And you better not give up on me.”
“I won’t.” She ducked under the frame, pausing to lean back in. “If anything goes wrong…”
“See that it doesn’t.”
“But if it does, tell Coulter I love him. That I would have waited forever.”
“You can tell him yourself because dying on me isn’t an option.”
“Roger. Stay safe. I’m counting on you to save my ass.”
Wynn grabbed her med kit, pulled out trauma shears, sponges, clotting powder, and a pressure dressing.
Neve took a breath, then crept out, staying low as she moved along the metal grating, placing each footfall carefully — avoiding the telltale clang. She reached the ideal position, then dropped to her belly, the cold steel biting into her elbows. The rain had kicked up, the fog already cresting the upper bench.
The rifle seemed heavier, the scope practically bruising her eye as she scanned up the cliff and settled on the men zeroing in on Coulter. She made the necessary adjustments, aware she’d only have a few seconds to cycle the next round and hit the second guy before he fired down at her.
A determined calm settled over her as she put the first man in the crosshairs, her finger finding the trigger as she took a breath, released it.
The suppressedthutsounded loud in the eerie stillness, the first shooter jerking from the impact before tipping forward and dropping out of sight. The second guy snapped his aim toward her. Either the hushed thump or her muzzle flash had given her away.