Chapter 8 - THE SHADOW OF EIGHTY-NINE
"Second hit," Ellis reported, his voice devoid of all color. "Impact is within half an inch of the first round. She's grouping them on top of each other."
BANG!
The third shot cracked out instantly.
CLANG!
BANG!
The fourth shot followed two seconds later.
CLANG!
BANG!
The fifth and final round cleared the barrel, the bolt locking open to the rear with a sharp, metallic snap, signaling an empty magazine. The last smoking brass casing rolled across the concrete and bumped gently against the toe of Admiral Kane's polished leather shoe.
Eight hundred meters away, the sound of the final impact echoed across the canyon.
CLANG!
Ellis lowered his spotting scope. He turned his head slowly, looking at the four junior officers who were now staring at Claire in absolute, stunned horror.
"Five rounds," Ellis whispered, his voice shaking. "Eight hundred meters in heat shimmer. Total group size... under two inches."
Claire didn't celebrate. She didn't look back at the men behind her to see if they were impressed.
She engaged the rifle's safety catch with her thumb. She pressed the magazine release, catching the empty steel magazine in her left hand, and set it on the mat. She lifted herself off the rubber pad, rising to her feet in one smooth, continuous motion, and stood beside her firing bench.
Her face was as unreadable and serene as it had been when she arrived.
Lieutenant Brooks backed away two full paces, his face pale, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. He looked at Claire as if she were a ghost that had just materialized out of the desert dust.
"Sir..." Brooks stammered, his eyes wide as he looked at Admiral Kane. "Sir... who... who is this woman?"
Admiral Kane stood unmoving. His dark Navy uniform was stiff, his white cap shading eyes that were fixed on Claire's face with a combination of profound fear and deep, haunting recognition.
He didn't answer his lieutenant.
Kane stepped forward, leaving his officers behind, stopping three feet from Claire’s firing bench. The smoking M110 rifle lay on its bipod between them, its barrel radiating heat waves into the air.
Kane looked down at her left sleeve, then raised his eyes to meet hers.
"I was told everyone from that program was gone," Kane said, his voice a low, raspy whisper that barely carried over the wind. "I signed the casualty reports myself in ninety-eight."
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Claire looked at the Admiral. Her hazel eyes were clear, steady, and completely devoid of fear.
"Reports can be inaccurate, sir," Claire said softly.
