Chapter 1 - The Rifle
The first round hit the sandbags inches from Avery Cole’s face and exploded a wall of dust into her eyes.
She ducked low, tasted grit, and heard two SEALs shouting behind her. The valley was burning with muzzle flashes. Helicopter rotors hammered the sunrise air overhead. Smoke climbed from broken equipment behind the compound wall, and somewhere beyond the rocks, a machine gun walked fire toward Marcus Vaughn as he crawled for a wounded sniper.
The rifle lay in the open.
Thirty yards away.
Lieutenant Hayes reached for her arm. “Cole, get back!”
Avery ripped free.
“Give me the rifle!”
Nobody understood what she meant until she was already moving. She slid across the dirt, one shoulder scraping stone, boots kicking dust as rounds cracked over the ground. Marcus shouted from behind broken rubble, “Sullivan’s hit! I need cover!”
Avery reached the long-range rifle with one desperate lunge, rolled behind a sandbag, and chambered a round with calm, practiced precision.
Hayes froze.
He had seen nervous soldiers handle rifles before. He had seen brave soldiers handle rifles before. Avery did neither.
She handled it like the weapon had been waiting for her shoulder her entire life.
Dust moved across her face. Blood darkened the edge of the white bandage wrapped around her forehead. Her breathing slowed.
“Wind died on the left,” she whispered.
She fired once.
No one saw the impact. Only a distant muzzle flash on the ridge vanished behind a burst of dust.
The radio crackled.
“Threat suppressed.”
Hayes stared at her.
“Who taught you that?”
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Avery kept her eye near the scope.
“The man nobody listened to.”
