Chapter 3 - Five Missed Shots
The diplomatic convoy was trapped inside a narrow desert canyon when the bunker lost control.
Chief Garrett stood over the tactical console, sweat running beneath the edge of his helmet.
“We’ve missed five shots,” he snapped. “The crosswinds are ripping the ballistics apart.”
Outside, an unidentified strike team had pinned the convoy between two rocky ridges. The armored vehicles could not reverse. The extraction helicopter could not safely descend while hostile positions controlled the upper slope.
Inside the bunker, every digital screen showed a different version of failure.
Wind readings shifted without pattern.
Thermal markers jumped.
Range data recalculated faster than the sniper teams could confirm it.
Marcus watched from the secondary logistics station with a clipboard pressed against her side.
Garrett believed the canyon was producing unpredictable wind.
Marcus knew terrain.
Wind did not behave randomly.
Systems did.
She moved closer to the console and spread several old paper maps across the metal surface.
“Your digital tracking grid is lying to you,” she said.
Garrett turned sharply.
“What?”
“The canyon walls are creating a micro-vortex, but not the one your screen shows. You’re overcorrecting by four milliradians.”
His face darkened.
“Get this desk jockey away from my station.”
Marcus pointed toward the paper contour lines.
“The eastern wall pushes a rebound across the lower channel. Your system is reversing the direction.”
“We’re losing people down there.”
“Then stop trusting bad information.”
Garrett grabbed her collar and shoved her against a metal cabinet.
“You are a contractor.”
Marcus looked past his shoulder.
Henderson was typing rapidly at the secondary terminal.
May you like
Not correcting the feed.
Overriding it.
