Option to Kill (Nathan McBride 3) (39 page)

BOOK: Option to Kill (Nathan McBride 3)
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“Lauren, I’m going to take a practice shot for my wind and elevation corrections. Don’t be alarmed when you hear the rifle report. Copy?”


Okay.

Forty-five degrees offset to his target, Nathan took a cross-legged sitting position. He shouldered his Remington, rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward, finding his comfort zone. Since he always kept his scope zeroed at three hundred yards, he clicked an additional five hundred yards of elevation to line up on Rectangle 851, then added an extra twelve clicks to account for shooting at an elevated target.

Wind was a tougher call and always the biggest variable. Gravity was constant and never changed, but wind could push a bullet completely off target over long distances. Nathan knew the wind was coming from the northeast — his three or four o’clock position. He’d be shooting about forty-five degrees into a right-to-left crosswind. The current wind speed wasn’t severe, but it was far from calm. Desert winds could be tricky, especially during a weather change, but Nathan had checked the report for the area and hadn’t found any high-or low-pressure areas moving through. He estimated the wind hadn’t changed since he’d taken a reading, and he didn’t feel any significant gusts. For an eight-hundred-yard shot, he knew a pure crosswind of ten miles per hour would push his bullet around seven or eight inches — close to one minute of angle. Since the wind was blowing at a forty-five-degree angle, he dropped the correction in half. His scope employed one-quarter minute of angle increments, so he clicked his windage knob two times for a one-half MOA correction to the right.

“Okay, Lauren, stand by.” He took in a full breath, blew half of it out, and steadied the crosshairs for the exact center of the rock. He knew he’d be able to see his impact, because the armor-piercing bullet would blast a sizable crater out of the desert varnish covering the rock face.

He thumbed the safety switch and began a gradual squeeze of the trigger, not knowing exactly when the rifle would discharge. It was a technique designed to eliminate trigger jerk, a common affliction among amateur shooters.

The Remington bucked, and its report hammered his ears. He reacquired Rectangle 851 and looked for the impact. A light-colored blemish now occupied the rock face, nearly dead center of where he’d been aiming. He clicked one additional windage correction. His elevation was low by almost eight inches. The rock must be higher than he’d estimated, so he clicked an additional elevation correction into the scope. He had little doubt Harv — who’d served as his spotter during their many sniping missions — would’ve nailed these corrections. Harv was much better at assessing this stuff.

Nathan cycled the bolt and ejected the spent brass. Since he wanted to keep five rounds in the rifle, he removed a fresh cartridge from a stripper clip. Using his left thumb to push the four rounds in the magazine down, he slid the bolt forward about halfway, inserted a cartridge directly into the breach, and closed the bolt. He now had one in the pipe and four in the magazine. He made sure the safety remained in the off position by checking it with his right thumb.

“Okay, Lauren. We’re all set. You okay up there?”


That sounded really cool. After the
poof
sound, it crackled all around me.

“It’s the reverberation from all the rock faces in the area. It’s a good effect. It makes it harder to locate the source of the shot. We’re going to sit tight and wait. Keep drinking sips of water and practice making slow-motion moves. It’s not super hot, but I don’t want you get dehydrated. If you have to pee, let me know. And don’t worry…I won’t look.”


Awkward.

Awkward?
Was that more kid lingo? Nathan smiled and settled in for the wait.

He looked across the road at the houses.

Collectively, these structures amounted to a sad sight — a testament to someone’s broken dream. Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to build ten houses in the middle of the Mojave Desert. If there’d been a common well with a storage tank and water-delivery system, he saw no evidence of it.

Despite the harsh nature of this landscape, Nathan liked it. He’d always felt at ease in a desert setting and didn’t know why. He’d never tried to analyze it, because, quite frankly, he didn’t care. He liked the desert, and that was that.

Thirty minutes later, Lauren’s voice came through the tiny earpiece. “
I can see two cars, way far away.

“Copy that. Keep a close eye on them. Let me know if one of them stops and anyone gets out. If that happens, tell me how many men get out and where they go, okay?”


Okay.
I think they’re going pretty fast. There’s a big dust cloud.

“Keep watching.”


The one in back is slowing down a little.

The driver of the rear vehicle was probably hindered by the dust. “Are both vehicles still moving?”


Uh-huh.

“You’re doing fine, Lauren. You’re my spotter up there.”


The car in back is going really slow now. I think they’re SUVs.

“Don’t worry about that. Just keep watching both of them. How close are they to the turn in the road?”


They’re almost there.

Nathan stood but couldn’t see the dust cloud yet.


Okay, they’re turning. Wait! The one in back stopped. People are getting out!

“Good girl, Lauren. Let me know how many men you see and where they go. Can you see any guns?”


Yeah, they’ve got big guns. Okay, three people got out. They’re running away from the road.

“Tell me what you see. Did they stay together?”


No. Two of them are running toward you through the bushes on your side of the road. The other one is running toward me!

“Lauren, don’t move. He’s way too far away to see you. Are your field glasses inside the hood of your ghillie suit?”


Yes.

“You’re totally invisible. He’ll never see you. Stay calm, okay?”


Okay.

Nathan knew what the three men were doing. They were moving into fire support positions. The mercenary or coyote heading toward Lauren was probably working his way toward the high ground to act as a spotter. Nathan had purposely placed Lauren in the low part of the saddle because tactically it wasn’t the best position. If any of Voda’s men headed for the high ground — like this guy was doing right now — he’d take up a position at the top of the closer peak, which was also a little higher than its counterpart.

“Where are the two guys who stayed on my side of the road?”


They’re still running toward you.

“In a pure south distance, how far away from the road are they?”


I don’t know. I guess, like maybe a soccer field?

“So they’re running parallel to the road about three hundred feet south of it?”


Yes.

“Are they halfway here yet?”


No, maybe a quarter.

“You’re doing great, Lauren. Where is the other guy? Has he started up the mountain yet?”


No, he’s about halfway, maybe. It looks like he’s going to the mountain next to me.

“Good call — that’s exactly where he’s going. You’re totally safe. Just remember to make slow-motion movements.”


I will.

“Let me know when the man starts up the slope. Have the vehicles slowed way down?”


Yes. How did you know?

“They’re giving the men on foot a chance to advance. How slow are the cars going?”


Pretty slow, hardly moving. The guys running toward you are getting way ahead.

“Lauren, I’m going to relocate. Let me know when I’m the same distance from the road as the men running toward me. Do you understand what I’m asking?”


Uh-huh.

Nathan got up and, in a crouch, ran to the southwest. The landscape sloped downward slightly. Sporadically spaced creosote bushes and sage scrub prevented him from seeing farther than fifty yards in any direction.

“Let me know when to stop.”


Okay, right about
— there
.

She’d called it pretty close. He’d run about one hundred yards from his previous position. “Tell me when the men are about a soccer field away from me.”


It’s hard to tell, but if they keep going, it looks like they’ll get to you in maybe five minutes. I can’t tell….

“Don’t worry about it. Sit tight and don’t react to what you see, okay?”


I won’t.

To Nathan’s immediate right, a shallow sandy wash no more than ten feet deep and forty feet across stood between him and the approaching mercenaries. He looked for a place to hunker down and didn’t see anything that would offer significant cover. He settled for a location just behind a trio of ankle-high barrel cacti. With his rifle secured behind his back, he pulled his SIG, checked for ants, and assumed a prone position facing the wash. Even though his human outline was completely camouflaged by the ghillie suit, he felt naked lying down on open ground. Since his rifle was wrapped in the same shaggy material, its silhouette couldn’t be spotted easily. He waited, expecting that the new arrivals would be winded from their long run across the desert.

“Where are they?” he asked quietly.


They’re almost there!

“Are they headed straight toward me?”


Yes!

“Stay calm, Lauren. Don’t say anything more.”

His radio clicked.

He heard them before he saw them. Their footfalls were also raising a dust cloud.

Like something out of a video game, two men — each carrying an AK in his hands — emerged from the landscaping and stopped running when they reached the dry streambed. They weren’t wearing body armor.

Nathan froze, melding into the desert.

The men looked at each other, looked across the wash at his position, and then descended the bank quickly. The man to Nathan’s left lost his footing and fell. He quickly regained his feet and resumed running with his comrade. Dressed in desert camo pants and tan Tshirts, these guys might’ve been difficult to spot had they not been moving. Although they possessed the correct color scheme, they were clueless.

From no more than twenty feet away, Nathan lined up on the lead man and fired two quick shots with the SIG. The man clutched his chest and dropped to his knees. Before the other gunman could react, Nathan double-tapped him as well. His arms flailed as he fell face-first onto the sand. The armor-piercing slugs had passed completely through the men. He saw exit wounds on the back of the man who’d done a face plant.

BOOK: Option to Kill (Nathan McBride 3)
11.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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