pdf - Eye of the Storm.PDF (17 page)

"You'd think after my demonstration in South America, he'd know better." She checked over the weapons and muttered. "Stupid man."

"Ya'd think, but that's Ren." Tweeter pulled out some protein bars and a couple of bottles of water from a cabinet built into the sleek walls. "Need any energy bars?"

She took two and a bottle of water, which she guzzled. Cold weather dehydrated a person easily. The water would only freeze outside. She'd save the bars for later while she waited for her shot.

"Tweetie, you'll call it. When you want me to start taking out targets, let me know.

I'll wait until you give the go-ahead. That way, Ren won't know the difference if I don't have to shoot."

Her brother tweaked her on the nose. "Don't worry about the boss. You'll talk him around. Me? He'll kick my ass. And I wouldn't blame him. I'd do the same if I were in his shoes. But since I'm your brother, and I know you're a better shot than any of us boys, I want you at my back. Ren will learn how capable you are the longer he knows you—plus the dead bodies will prove your case." He took her face between his hands and stared her in the eye. "No wounding. Go for kill shots. This is war."

She swallowed hard, but nodded. God, she'd be killing again. But it was in defense of Sanctuary—and of Ren. And Ren would be here to keep the nightmares away.

"I'll do what needs to be done. Just don't get dead. Dad and Mama would be really pissed." She hugged him. "Now let's get me in place." She pulled out her laptop and glanced at the monitor. "Our guys have dug in about two thousand meters from here. Find me a nest and then go help them."

* * * *

The sniper rifle felt good. The Zeis scope was perfectly engineered for cold-weather, dusk and nighttime sniping. She had a grand view and could see the intruders edging into her peripheral vision from the east.

Tweetie had left ten minutes ago and should just be coming in behind the SSI team.

She monitored their chatter, waiting for her brother's go-ahead. She had the exact range thanks to the GPS app on her computer, the new program she'd created for the hologram table and the hand-held computer for the high-tech rifle. The wind would be the only variable in her shot and it was minimized by the weapon and the caliber of the ammunition. This particular gun had been created for these conditions.

The sound of submachine gun fire echoed up from the valley. She looked through the night-vision scope. The bogies had fired first, confirming they were up to no good and fair game for killing. The SSI operatives held their fire for now, luring the bad asses in.

"Come on, Tweetie. Give the sign." Her mitten off, her gloved hand was steady, her finger on the trigger and her eye glued to the scope. She breathed slowly, waiting patiently for the go-ahead. She had her sight glued on the lead snowmobiler. Absently, she wondered why killing from a long distance didn't seem to bother her as much as close up. It should—killing was killing—but it didn't, at least not in the heat of the moment.

Later she knew it would haunt her dreams.

"Go, sis." Tweetie's whispered signal had her taking a bead on the lead guy's temple.

She took a breath and as she released it, she pulled the trigger. He was down. She lined up her next shot and took it as easily as she breathed. She didn't have to look to see that she'd placed the first bullet right where she'd aimed—in the front lobe of the bad ass's brain. If he wasn't dead now, he soon would be. Her dad had taught her well. He'd always said: "No use shooting, Keely-girl, if you don't hit what you're aiming for."

"Stay under cover, guys," she muttered into the head set. "I've got them, and I'm well out of range of their weapons."

"Keely—" Ren's voice held anger—and something else—fear.

"Leave her be, Ren," Vanko said. "She has excellent position, and she just took the two in the lead out." Keely squeezed off her third shot. "And now the third. She's right.

They cannot reach her with the weapons they have."

"Ren, I'm fine." She took a breath, waiting for her next shot. The intruders seemed to be circling around, regrouping; she couldn’t single out any one and didn't want to waste ammo. "I'm over twelve hundred meters away. Let me put them on the run, and you guys can follow and do clean up." Finally, some fool broke away. She took the shot as he attempted to approach the entrenched position of the SSI team. She was four for four.

"Damn, she's good," another of the team said. "If you don't snag her, I will." It was Trey, Ren's brother. She smiled.

"Keep your mind off my woman and on the fight, brother."

Whoa! Her womb clenched, her heart pounded, forcing her to back away from the next shot. Ren had claimed her in the middle of a frick-fracking battle. He sounded pissed about it, too. She breathed slowly for a space of several seconds, then put her eye back to the scope. No shot yet. She waited until the next target entered her range and pulled the trigger. Automatically, she ejected the empty five-shot magazine and slapped in a full one.

As she set up her next shot, she wasn't sure what alerted her, but something had. A slide of shadow over shadow in the reflected early evening light off the snow. A soft swooshing sound of loose snow displaced by boots. Whatever had caught her attention, it indicated someone approaching her position. Someone, no, more than one someone, was coming at her from behind.

Where the heck had they come from? And how had they known where she'd be? She hadn't known her position before ten minutes ago. No one from the fight in the valley could have made it up to her position so fast. Was it one of the traitors from within Sanctuary? Or did the invaders have two teams and had had the same idea about placing a sniper up high?

Slowly, she reached in her jacket pocket, where she'd secreted the handgun next to another hand-warmer to keep the weapon from freezing. She flicked off the safety and as she rolled over she brought out the gun and shot the man bearing down on her.

"Shit." She missed. The man was injured, but still moved. She fired another round into his head to be sure.

"I'm made." Her calm tone belied the loud thudding of her heart. The primitive part of her brain told her to run, but her training had her planning her moves so she could take the other man out. "Don't know how or who, but I'm moving to higher ground."

"Keely!" Ren's voice was loud in her ears, but she forced herself to ignore the myriad emotions in his tone as she did what she needed to do to survive. Her neck just didn't itch, it felt as if fire ants swarmed over it. The other bad guy hadn't taken the hint of his buddy's death and was stalking her rather than fleeing, indicating that whoever he was, he really wanted her. This guy, however, was more cautious than the one she'd shot.

She collapsed the bipod on her rifle, snagged the bag of ammo and mags, then moved laterally and up the slippery ledge upon which she'd been perched. She exited faster than she'd like under the worsening conditions. One wrong foot placement and she could go over the edge and fall a thousand or so feet to the valley below.

A wild shot hit a tree branch near her head when she zigged instead of zagging. She turned, switching the Bren Ten to semi-automatic and let off a fusillade of shots in the direction of the shot. She dove behind a rock just as her pursuer returned fire. He had what sounded like a submachine pistol, which trumped her Bren for firing capacity.
Shit.

"Keely!" Ren's voice was now an angry roar.

She winced. "Don't yell, for chrissakes," she muttered into her mike. "I can hear.

Can't talk, he's getting close."

Since her handgun was out of ammunition and reloading would make her dead, she swung the sniper rifle around and pointed it in the direction the shooter would have to come to finish her off. While the weapon wasn't made for close-in work, it had deathly stopping power at this short range. It was like using a cannon instead of a pea shooter.

She wanted the sucker dead.

Her pursuer came around a bend at full speed. Stupid—maybe he was less cautious than the other guy. Men always underestimated her. He probably thought she'd keep running. Sometimes you just had to dig in and wait. She was good at waiting. She’d learned from the best strategist in the Marine Corps—her Dad.

The muzzle of the sniper rifle braced on a boulder, she shot him in the torso before he even caught a glimpse of her. The force of the shot knocked him back, off his feet, and carried him over the ledge she'd almost flown up to get away from him. If the shot hadn't killed him—and since it had decimated his torso, it should have—the fall would. She looked over the edge and saw that he had fallen to a ledge just below her former sniping position. He wasn’t moving.

Listening, she heard nothing but the whistle of the wind, her heart pounding in her ears, and the sound of gunfire from the valley echoing off the mountainside. Even better, her neck had stopped itching. She let out a deep sigh. "I'm clear. Hear me, Ren. I'm clear.

Watch your ass."

His answering growl was unintelligible.

Keely took several more deep breaths. She had to slow down her heart. A wave of dizziness assailed her. She leaned against the icy boulder for support. Adrenaline overload. Hypoglycemia, too. She was burning calories like a bunny on speed. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled one of the protein bars out. She tore it open with her teeth, then ate it in three bites, shoving the wrapper in her pocket. A small bite of snow kept her from choking on the dry granola and fruit. Taking calming breaths, she sat and waited for the sweet fruit to take effect. It took a minute or so but the high-carb bar did the trick. She ate the second bar more slowly, knowing she was still burning calories like a son of a bitch.

Finally, her brain registered the continued gunfire from the valley, and the danger to her team centered her. She needed to stop being a wuss and help the guys. She searched for another perch from which to take out baddies. Spotting a ledge that looked to be approximately in the same spot but fifty feet higher than her last one, she crawled to it and dug in, then assessed the scene. She put in a full magazine, then calmly spoke into the mike. "Setting up for more long-range."

The male chatter in her ears was mere white noise as she released the bipod. The intruders were attempting to swarm and overpower the SSI position, thinking the sniper was history since she had not taken a shot for a while. "Sorry, fellas, but you lose. I'm still here."

She found her targets and began taking them out like bonus-point characters in a personal shooter game. First one. Then two. Three. Four. Five. She ejected the empty magazine and shoved in a full one and emptied the next five rounds into five more of the enemy. She ejected the magazine and shoved in another full one, then paused to observe the action below. With the concentrated semi-automatic fire from the SSI team, the few remaining bad guys, whoever in the hell they were, ran.

Just to be safe, she reloaded the empty magazines with cold but sure hands. She didn't want to take a chance on being empty in case she needed the rifle again. She then reloaded the handgun before breaking down the sniper rifle and sticking it in the bag Tweeter had thought to bring along, making it much easier for her to hike out. She could reassemble the rifle in the dark and cold in less than a minute if she had to.

She shoved the handgun into her right parka pocket to keep it warm. She then tugged on her outer mittens with their hand-warmers, not realizing how cold her hands had become. And finally she checked to make sure her knife was sheathed on her left thigh.

"Guys?" She headed for Cave A5, which was just up and over the ridge, about a quarter mile away. The snowmobile had had to take a longer way around to get her to the position from which she'd first shot.

"What, sis?" Her brother answered—not Ren.

"I'm heading for the cave."

"I'm almost at your position, baby." Ren's low growling tone warmed her. "Stay put.

I want to make sure the asshole you filled full of … Jesus Christ, baby, what the fuck did you shoot him with?"

Ren was below her. He'd found the guy she'd taken out with the sniper rifle at close range. She grimaced; she could just imagine how torn up his torso was from the bullet, let alone what the fall had done to the rest of his body. She choked back the granola threatening to come up her throat. Aftermath was a bitch.

"The Lapua … I couldn't…”

"That would do it. Just stay put. I'll swing by to pick you up."

"No, Ren. I can come down. I'm getting kind of tired, but I can make it." And that was the understatement of the century. It felt as if her legs weighed a ton. Her head hurt and she was running on fumes. If she had to fight off anyone else, they might just win the next round.

"I’m coming up. Meet you at your first position. Keely…?"

She knew he'd heard her exhaustion and needed her reassurance she really was all right. "I'll really am fine. I wasn't shot."

Keely gingerly picked her way down a rocky path only a near-sighted mountain goat could love. She couldn't believe she'd practically flown up this same route only minutes earlier. Adrenaline and a shooter on her butt probably had a lot to do with it.

The conditions were shitty—and getting absolutely crappier. Several times she had to practically crawl over icy spots. Finally she reached her original sniping position. Ren was already there. His back was to her. He was checking out the first guy she'd shot.

"Ren."

He turned and strode toward her, gathering her into his arms, rifle bag and all. His voice cracked as it came over the headset. "God, baby. I aged a hundred years when you said they'd made you. I thought I lost you."

Was that love making his voice waver or bad headset reception? She couldn't tell.

His face was buried in her parka as his arms held her as if he'd never let her go. His words spoke of more than protectiveness, though. She smiled as she snuggled into his body, her arms around his waist. He was like a furnace. She sighed at the warmth he provided.