Chapter 7 - THE SETTLED BENCH
The wind across the firing line picked up, carrying a fresh cloud of fine white dust that rattled against the corrugated tin roof of the range shelter.
Claire laid the M110 Semi-Automatic Sniper System flat on the green foam shooting pad resting on the concrete bench. She didn't rush. Her movement was fluid, rhythmic, and methodical. She pulled a twenty-round box magazine of 7.62x51mm match-grade ammunition from her cargo pocket, checked the top round for seating depth and casing flaws with her thumb, and inserted the magazine into the lower receiver well until a sharp, solid CLICK echoed across the silent range.
Behind her, twenty yards back near the command trailer, no one moved.
Admiral Kane stood in the blazing sun, his dark sunglasses held in his hand, his eyes glued to Claire's back. Lieutenant Brooks was standing behind him, his face pale, his hands clasped tightly behind his back in a rigid posture of extreme discomfort.
Range Master Ellis walked slowly down the concrete apron, stopping three feet behind Claire’s shooting position. He picked up a heavy, tripod-mounted Leupold spotting scope, adjusted the focus wheel, and locked the crosshairs directly on the steel silhouette target eight hundred meters downrange.
"Wind is coming off the western ridge at fourteen knots, gusting to eighteen," Ellis said softly, his voice low, respectful, and entirely professional. "Barometric pressure is dropping slightly. Heat shimmer is heavy between four hundred and six hundred meters."
Claire didn't turn her head. She pulled the charging handle back, letting the bolt slam forward to chamber a match round with a heavy metallic clack.
May you like
"Thank you, Master," Claire replied softly, her voice steady against the wind. "Elevation is already dialed for twenty-six MOA. I'll hold two mils left for the crosswind."
Ellis looked through the spotting scope, squinting against the glare. Holding two mils left in a gusting desert crosswind at eight hundred meters required a mathematical calculation of drift, bullet spin, and lead time that took most advanced marksmen years to master—and she had calculated it by feel in less than five seconds.
