COPYRIGHT: S. Egneus 2012
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My first bullet hits their commander square in the stomach and before he even knows he’s hit, the second bullet connects with his jaw. In slow motion I see his head rock back and a second later his face explodes in a shower of blood and bone.
“Way to go, girl,” Jones mutters next to me, “not a virgin anymore.”
I smile to myself. That’s a compliment coming from him. Through my scope I watch the confusion clear from the remaining men’s faces. As they reach for their weapons, I squeeze the trigger straight back with the ball of my finger and fire a third shot at the end of their line. Keep them clustered. My eye never leaves the scope; my finger’s steady on the trigger. I’m careful. Have worked too hard to get here to screw this up; the memories of that journey too painful to drag up. This field mission is my make or break, a test I don’t take lightly. My chance to prove to the people who said I couldn’t do this, including my father, that they were dead wrong.