Chapter 6 - The Old Maps
Marcus gathered the grease-stained topographic maps from the floor.
They looked ancient beside the damaged digital systems, but paper had one advantage over software.
It could not be hacked from another room.
She spread the maps across the primary console and traced the canyon walls with one finger.
“The eastern ridge heats faster than the lower channel,” she said. “By midafternoon, the air rises here and rebounds southwest across the target zone.”
Prophet looked at the map.
“The system says twelve knots east.”
“The system was designed to say that.”
Garrett moved to the sandbags where his custom long-range rifle waited.
“We have a visual on the hostage vehicle.”
Marcus shook her head.
“You can’t make the shot with corrupted data.”
Garrett’s pride flashed for half a second.
Then the radio carried a frightened voice from the canyon.
He stepped aside.
“The platform is yours, Captain.”
Marcus lowered herself behind the rifle.
The weight settled into her shoulder with terrible familiarity. Her breathing slowed into the rhythm she had used before she disappeared.
In for four.
Hold.
Out.
The canyon came into focus through the optic.
Heat shimmered above the stone. The hostile team moved along the ridge with Sarah between them, using the terrain and vehicle as cover.
Marcus did not see targets.
She saw variables.
Distance.
Elevation.
Thermal lift.
Rebound.
Time.
“Raw pressure,” she said.
Prophet read from the independent instrument.
“Range, three thousand one hundred eighty-five yards. Elevation angle, four point two. Wind reading unstable.”
“It isn’t unstable.”
May you like
Marcus adjusted the turrets.
“It’s being misunderstood.”
