Chapter 3 - Oracle
Project Phantom was supposed to be simple in the way expensive failures are always supposed to be simple. Aegis Dynamics had spent six months selling Oracle as the future of extreme-distance engagement: wind towers, sensor feeds, predictive software, ballistic tablets, training overlays, and a price tag so large every officer pretended not to blink when they saw it.
At 0900, Reeves gave the briefing.
Four thousand meters.
Nearly two and a half miles.
Variable wind.
Heat distortion.
One shot per shooter.
Thirteen names appeared on the screen. Rodriguez. Morgan. Wells. Adams. Fischer. The rest. Men with medals, sponsorships, podcasts, slow-motion range videos, and the kind of confidence that made contractors smile.
Norah’s name was not there.
She had requested evaluation eligibility two days earlier. Reeves had stopped her outside the briefing room with her request folded in his hand.
“Let me save you the embarrassment,” he said.
“For a shooting evaluation?” she asked.
“For a sniper slot.” His smile sharpened. “You’ve been in logistics for three years. This program needs killers, not clerks.”
Norah looked at the prewritten success statement clipped to his folder. It was already drafted, already praising Oracle, already framing the test as a breakthrough.
“This test already has an ending, doesn’t it?”
Reeves leaned closer. “You’re smart, Hayes. Be smart quietly.”
Men like Reeves did not hate competence.
They hated competence that arrived without permission.
By late morning, Oracle had become less certain. Rodriguez missed left. Morgan missed right. Wells missed low. Fischer blamed the ammo. Adams blamed the shimmer. The contractors stopped smiling by the seventh miss.
By the thirteenth, even Reeves had no one left to blame but the desert.
General Harris removed his sunglasses.
“Any snipers left?”
The range went still.
Norah stepped away from the logistics table.
“May I try, sir?”
May you like
The laughing started again.
But this time, it sounded nervous.
