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Chapter 2 - The Sniper in the Woods

I instantly dropped to the floor as a suppressed bullet shattered the kitchen window.

Glass rained down on my back while I crawled desperately toward the heavy oak cabinets.

My military instincts took over, shutting down my fear and replacing it with pure tactical focus.

I grabbed the titanium lockbox and dragged it with me into the dark hallway.

Marcus Finch was still speaking calmly through the satellite phone I clutched in my hand.

He advised me to surrender the geological surveys if I wanted to live to see tomorrow.

I ended the call, plunging the cabin back into complete silence.

I knew that a sniper outside meant there was likely an assault team moving in to breach the doors.

I needed a weapon immediately.

I remembered the fireplace in the living room and the heavy iron poker resting beside it.

It was not a rifle, but it was better than fighting barehanded.

I slid across the hardwood floor, keeping my head well below the window line.

As my fingers closed around the cold iron poker, the front door suddenly swung open.

A man dressed in black tactical gear stepped inside with a suppressed rifle raised to his shoulder.

He swept the barrel across the empty living room, looking for any sign of movement.

I held my breath, hiding in the deep shadows behind the leather recliner.

He took two steps forward, exposing his flank to my position.

I lunged upward, swinging the iron poker with every ounce of strength I had.

The heavy metal struck his rifle, knocking it completely out of his hands.

Before he could recover, I delivered a crushing blow to his knee, sending him collapsing to the floor.

I grabbed his dropped rifle and aimed it squarely at his chest.

The front door creaked again, and another figure stepped onto the porch.

I swung the rifle toward the door, my finger resting heavily on the trigger.

It was Hank McCoy, the retired Marine who had brought me the casserole earlier.

He was holding a massive hunting shotgun and looking down at the groaning mercenary on the floor.

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Hank casually racked a shell into the chamber of his shotgun.

He looked at me and said we had about two minutes before the rest of the cartel hit squad arrived.

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