Chapter 16 - THE KILL ZONE AT DEVIL’S THROAT
The Land Cruiser skidded to a halt beneath the shadow of a monolithic red-rock cliff, three hundred meters short of the canyon's western rim. The air here was noticeably hotter, thick with the smell of scorched metal, ozone, and burning rubber drifting up from the chasm below.
Instantly, the sharp, concussive *CRACK-THUMP* of heavy caliber fire reverberated through the canyon walls. It was followed by the desperate, rhythmic chattering of 5.56mm carbines firing in burst mode.
"They're still alive," Ellis reported from the rear, peering through a set of military binoculars. "Lead Suburban is completely engulfed in flames. Second vehicle is pinned against a limestone boulder. I see three bodies down in the dirt. Two operators are still returning fire from behind the rear axle."
Claire was already out of the truck. She hoisted the thirty-pound TAC-50 onto her shoulder as if it were a toy, carrying the heavy bipod and drag bag with effortless grace.
"Stay low," Claire commanded, dropping to a crouch. "The eastern rim has the high ground. If you silhouette yourself against the sky, their spotter will put a 12.7mm round through your sternum before you can draw breath."
Kane dropped to his hands and knees, ignoring the sharp rocks tearing through his immaculate trousers. For the first time in twenty years, the Admiral felt the raw, primal terror of incoming hostile fire snapping mere feet above his head. A high-velocity round skipped off the canyon rim twenty yards to their left, sending a shower of razor-sharp shale fragments showering down upon their backs.
"Sniper team is located at coordinates Charlie-Four," Ellis whispered, his voice tense. "Under an overhanging shelf near the top of the eastern wall. They're well-camouflaged in the shadows. They're using a Russian KSVK anti-material rifle. That thing will cut through an armored vehicle like wet cardboard."
Claire crawled forward through the dust until she reached a shallow depression behind a slab of fractured sandstone. She carefully set the TAC-50 down, extending the heavy steel bipod legs with two quiet clicks.
She looked down into the canyon floor. Through the shimmering heat haze, she could see the grim reality of the ambush. A man in a dark business suit—presumably Deputy Assistant Secretary Albright—was huddled against the dirt, clutching a bloody shoulder. Beside him, an operator with a shattered femur was weakly firing a pistol into the ridgeline, his ammunition clearly running out.
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"They have less than two minutes," Kane whispered, his voice trembling with horror as he watched through his compact field glasses. "The hostiles are maneuvering a machine gun team along the canyon floor to flank them."
"Quiet," Claire said softly. Her voice was like liquid ice. "Admiral, get on my right shoulder. Ellis, take the spotting scope. Call the mirage."
