Bull's Eye Sniper Chronicles Collection (The Second Cycle of the Betrayed Series)

by McCray, Carolyn

  “I hear at least three distinct voices,” Lopez said.

  “Do you have the scope?” Davidson asked.

  Lopez shook his head. “I know, I know, I didn’t think we’d need one on a motorcade detail. Never make that mistake again.”

  Yes, from now on in Afghanistan, they were coming prepared for full-out war. No leaving equipment behind to lighten their packs. No assuming they would be staying in the cars.

  Hopefully, though, there wouldn’t be a next time. Hopefully, the president had learned his lesson and would never visit here again.

  “Any idea their position in the room?”

  “I think the back, but I can’t be sure,” Lopez reported.

  “Stark?” Davidson asked into his mic. “Are you picking up anything on thermal?”

  “Looks like four men, but one’s thermal signal is cooling—I think he is fatally wounded.”

  “Location?”

  “All at the back wall with the C-4.”

  So it was confirmed.

  “Shock and awe?” Davidson asked Lopez.

  “Hell yes,” the corporal responded.

  “Bunny? Where are you?” Davidson asked.

  * * *

  Bunny was in the middle of about fifty scared little girls. “Drecker is knocking out the window. We’ll be out in under a minute.”

  “Drecker?” Davidson asked.

  “Yeah, long story,” Bunny said as the glass shattered under the butt of Drecker’s gun. He started lifting girls out of the room. Bunny gave the huge stack of C-4 a wide berth.

  She knew, logically, that C-4 was not easy to make explode. It was super stable and required a high-energy detonator. Emotionally, though? She treated it like a striking snake.

  “I’m giving you three minutes, then we are going in,” Davidson said.

  “I’ll only need two,” Bunny reported, helping Drecker lift the girls out. The ones already on the ground were heading straight for the hills, their robes flapping in the night breeze.

  “Copy that,” Davidson responded. “One hundred and twenty seconds. Mark.”

  Bunny tried to remember the appropriate response. “Affirmative.”

  The terrified girls were starting to climb out on their own, accelerating their escape. Finally, she lifted the last of the students over the ledge. Drecker offered his hand to help her over, then he leapt through the window himself and they set off at a run, urging the girls forward.

  They passed by a cluster of trucks down the road. The hills weren’t far off, and they were pocked by caves. They could get lost in there until Davidson had secured the compound.

  Out of nowhere, a man jumped from behind the vehicles. He must have fled here to hide. Why didn’t he just stay hidden?

  Bunny tried to bring her gun up, but the man was already pointing at her. The shot’s ring echoed off the mills around them. Drecker threw himself between the bullet and Bunny.

  He gasped as the bullet hit him square in the chest. He fell to the ground, not even attempting to break his fall.

  Gun up now, Bunny fired, nearly cutting the attacker in half. The girls behind her screamed.

  “Go!” Bunny yelled, grabbing one of the older girls. “Get them to the caves!”

  After she made sure there was no problem with translation, Bunny dropped to her knees, putting her ear against Drecker’s chest. She couldn’t hear a heart beat.

  She checked to see if he was breathing, but his chest didn’t rise.

  Where in the hell was Davidson?

  * * *

  Davidson crouched beneath the window frame. Prenner was under the other window. Lopez and Levont were going through the front door.

  It was a risky move to split up and attack the room this way. Friendly fire was a huge concern—which was why they each had a specific angle to shoot within. If each of them kept their firing to that narrow window, they would each be safe. Each of them had to trust the other to keep their heads and aim on target.

  They’d heard a few shots out in the night, but Davidson couldn’t worry about that right now. He needed to neutralize the C-4, then he’d worry about the girls and Bunny.

  He counted off in his head, down from one hundred twenty to five. Four. Three. Two. One.

  Prenner lobbed a flashbang into the room. They held for five more seconds, enough for the lights show and screeching sound to stop. Smoke filled the room and Davidson knocked out the glass and leapt through the window. He took out the closest man with a shot.

  The other three men fell to the ground before he even had a chance to set up his next shot. There was a deafening silence until one of the men sprang up, holding a silver cylinder with a red button on the top.

  He yelled something in Arabic, then pressed his finger against the button.

  His fierce smile wavered when nothing happened.

  “Like we didn’t deactivate the switch in the detonator,” Levont said, snatching the device from the man’s hand.

  The terrorist tried to bring his gun up. But, really, in the room with four Special Forces members? He was dead before he could take his next breath.

  “Davidson!” a yell carried on the wind.

  Bunny.

  They all turned as one and charged out the door.

  * * *

  “Bunny!” A cry from behind her.

  “Here!” Bunny shouted between sobs. “They’re coming,” she murmured to Drecker. “They’re here.”

  He didn’t respond, though. He hadn’t in a while.

  “Bunny!” Davidson yelled as he came around the corner of a truck. He slid to his knees beside her. Lopez went to Drecker’s other side and checked for a pulse.

  “Are you alright?” Davidson asked.

  “Yes, because he jumped in front of me,” Bunny said, not able to hold a sob in along the way.

  “You can let go,” Lopez said, urging her hands back.

  “No,” Bunny said, wiping her nose on the elbow of her jacket. “He can’t be dead.”

  “He isn’t,” Lopez said. “Just knocked out by the bullet hitting his vest. Lopez slapped Drecker’s face and the man roused. “See?”

  Bunny let out another sob, this time of relief. “I thought he’d died for me.”

  Davidson put his hand out and Drecker took it as the sniper helped the sergeant to his feet. “Thanks for saving Bunny.”

  Drecker coughed, holding his side. “No problem.”

  “Of course, you’ve still gotta go,” Lopez said.

  “I figured,” Drecker responded with a grin.

  Headlights pierced the darkness as trucks rumbled over the hill, heading to the school.

  “The Afghan Army.”

  “Right on time, as usual,” Lopez joked.

  Everyone spun around as footsteps sounded behind them. It was a group of girls. The youngest ran up to Bunny and hugged her around the waist.

  “That’s the upside,” Davidson said as he released his hold on her.

  Bunny, never very comfortable with children, felt awkward as the girl hugged her tight. She felt warm and alive and real. Bunny hugged the girl back, feeling the child’s rough wool robe. Her tiny heart beat against Bunny’s leg. To imagine this girl in flames—it just wasn’t right.

  “And not just one,” Davidson said, nodding to the growing group of girls. “But multiply that by a couple of dozen.”

  Bunny watched the girls rush up to all of them, chattering, happy to be alive. If she’d had any doubt she’d acted correctly, it was gone now.

  “We’ve got to book it,” Levont said, heading for the hills.

  Davidson nodded to Bunny. “Ready for another run?”

  “Sure,” Bunny said. “Why not.”

  “I’ll send a chopper to pick you up two clicks away,” Stark said. “I’ve got to get you guys out as soon as possible. We have a situation brewing in Bangladesh.”

  “What kind of situation?” Davidson asked.

  “A weird one. Some American archeologist is making a stink in Banglade
sh. Something about finding an artifact that disproves Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.”

  “That’s not good,” Bunny groaned. “Bangladesh has a primarily Islamic population—however, more importantly, they are the country that is keeping India and Pakistan from blowing each other up. We cannot afford religious unrest in that country.”

  “Alright,” Davidson said. “Bangladesh it is.”

  “Do you want me to send two planes, Bunny?” Stark asked. “One to get you home and one for the men?”

  She looked to the sergeant and then Davidson. “That’ll be one for Drecker to go stateside and one for the rest of us.”

  “Heard and confirmed,” Stark answered.

  Bunny must have lost her mind. But the way Davidson smiled at her, she was kind of glad that she had.

  Crosshairs: The First Full-Length Book in the Bull’s Eye Sniper Chronicles

  CHAPTER 1

  “Work it,” the photographer instructed not just to Bunny but to the other two super models.

  Bunny arched her back. Not in skanky way, but in a Boochy way. Tyra would be so proud. She then broke her angles, taking the shot from commercial to editorial. Thank god she’d watched America’s next top model since its inception.

  “That’s it, that’s it,” the photographer shouted with excitement making Bunny break character for just a moment and smile. Super models didn’t smile though. They were too busy being aloof and unattainable. And a super model was what she was supposed to be right now.

  It made her feel pretty damned proud to be able to fit in with this elite crowd, especially with all of her scars from her numerous attacks. And yet here she was able to model bikinis with the best of them. Talk about a good makeup artist.

  “Smolder,” the photographer ordered.

  Bunny dropped the smile, inhaled and lowered her eyelids just a titch. You would have thought she would have pictured Davidson in her mind to get her in the smoldering mood, however they had remained in that awkward, almost high school stage of being attracted yet not together for way too long. No, instead she thought of Hugh Jackman. Hugh always got the job done.

  “Perfect!” the photographer yelled, his voice bouncing off the beautiful blue water. No, not blue. That didn’t do the color of the water justice. It was azure. A flat sheet of azure, stretching out beyond sight. That was the Indian Ocean for you. Clear skies above and still water below.

  It was the perfect backdrop for this Italian Vogue shoot.

  “Shift,” the photographer barked. “Mix it up.”

  The other models were all legs and one nearly fell off the side of the boat. Bunny caught her wrist and helped her back up. Somehow Bunny ended up in the middle of the super model pack. She’d take it.

  Nice to know she could have another career if she ever wanted to leave the covert world. To live like this? Being swept from one exotic locale to the next exotic locale on private jets. And just imagine, no one was blowing them up. Yes, that would be quite the change.

  The beauty of the day was only interrupted by the pop of the camera and the bright flashes from the lights. Otherwise the day was perfectly serene as if there were no other people in the world except them.

  That was until a slight rumble sounded on the distance. It almost sounded like rolling thunder, except there were no clouds in the sky.

  Soon two tiny black blips appeared on the horizon. They sped toward the luxury yacht, quickly revealing they were two Zodiac boats, filled with dark men bristling with guns.

  “Get below deck!” the photographer yelled in a really, really shrill voice.

  The production crew tried to get the models off the deck, however the boats approached too quickly.

  “No one move!” the man at the head of the lead Zodiac yelled.

  Everyone froze as the Zodiacs came alongside and prepared to board. This was east Africa for you. Pretty, but also pretty dangerous. Bunny knew that the producer had bribed all the right people, but that didn’t mean pirates kept their word, now did it?

  The dark pirates boarded quickly. They smelled of sweat and foreign spices. One grabbed Bunny roughly by the arm.

  “Stop it!” Bunny made sure to screech, shoving the man off with the palm of her hand. She tore away from one pirate only to be grabbed by another, then another. Quickly Bunny was passed around the entire boarding crew.

  The leader finally grabbed her. “Quiet down or die.”

  Bunny cringed away from the big man, falling to the deck of the boat. She sobbed as she imagined a pampered super model would. Or at the least how the other two super models on board were.

  “Do as we say and no one will be hurt,” the man shouted in heavily accented English. His teeth were yellowed like old ivory and his face bore the marks of ritualistic scarring. Bunny supposed that made him look fiercer to some.

  But she knew him to be a liar. The number of Somali pirate hostages who were not hurt, she could count on one hand. The pirates’ reputation demanded that they rough up their victims to keep resistance to a minimum.

  However, these pirates just boarded the wrong yacht.

  From every nook and cranny, Bunny’s team hopped out, their weapons at the ready. Lopez was the closest .His knuckles were nearly white as he gripped his rifle. Levont was to her right. Prenner to the left. Each ready to fire in a heartbeat if any of the women were endangered.

  “Drop ‘em,” Lopez barked at the pirates.

  The pirate captain sneered. “Says who and his army?”

  Typical cocky ass Somali pirates. But why shouldn’t they be? They usually hit up civilian vessels or encountered small military units. Right now it appeared that Lopez and his men were out numbered. “Appeared” being the important word in that sentence.

  Lopez smiled back. “Oh, just them.”

  With a splash and a heave, a submarine surfaced right next to the yacht, causing the boat to jostle in the wake. Bunny had to grab hold of a railing to keep herself upright.

  At the tip top of the antennae array was Davidson, his rifle pointing at the yacht.

  “This will be a blood bath if we battle,” the pirate captain sneered.

  “Not so much,” Lopez responded. “Bunny here, painted all your men. We know exactly where they all are and Davidson has got armor piercing rounds so he can take any of them out at any time.”

  Bunny smiled. She hadn’t been freaking out when she was passed from man to man, she’d been doing exactly her job. Making sure that she touched each and everyone of the pirates before they went below deck. Covert really did cream modeling any day of the week.

  A shot rang out and the bullet hit the railing right next to the pirate captain.

  “All of this might for a few models?” the captain questioned, rightfully so.

  “Oh, this boat is the least of your worries,” Lopez stated, handing the captain a tablet with a live streaming video.

  “What is this?” the man asked, sneering.

  “You don’t recognize it?” Prenner questioned, taking a step forward. “It is your home village. You mother, your four wives, and twelve children I believe.”

  Bunny watched as the captain’s eyelids widened, revealing the whites of his eyes. So, even a pirate could be scared.

  “And that village has a Tomahawk missile with it’s name on it, if you don’t cooperate.”

  Then the pirate’s eyes narrowed. “What is it you want?”

  It was Bunny’s turn to take the front stage. “You kidnapped a girl, the Vice President’s step-daughter, Liza Laughlin. We want her alive and unharmed.”

  To everyone’s surprise, the captain chuckled. “All this,” he said, nodding to the submarine and guns trained on him. “And if you wanted her back, all you had to do was ask.”

  * * *

  Davidson watched carefully through his scope as the pirates, in an uncharacteristically orderly fashion left the yacht. Once Bunny had told the captain what they wanted, they had put up no resistance whatsoever, which made Davidson all the more concerned.
Somali pirates weren’t known for their ability to roll over easily.

  Was this a trap? Would they lead them into the forest only to ambush them?

  For now, Davidson had to keep his attention on the situation at hand. He couldn’t relax until Bunny was safe. It had nearly killed him to have to sit by and watch the video feed as the pirates had roughed her up. It was her job, a job she had volunteered for. Actually it was a plan she had developed.

  Originally Davidson had thought she’d only wanted to create a fake photo shoot so she could get some Armani for free, but the plan had been a sound one and so far it had gone off without a hitch.

  From his perch, he could see the pirates file back into their Zodiacs without incident. Which seemed just wrong. Where were the sneers? The jests? The typical anti-American rhetoric? There should be curses and spitting, yet the men quietly filed up from below deck and boarded their boats.

  Granted they had the leverage of the Tomahawk hanging over the captain’s head, but that didn’t seem to explain their calm, almost relieved demeanor. Did they realize that Lopez would never in a thousand years actually blow up innocent children to get his way?

  Or was it something else?

  Finally the last of the pirates were off the yacht and Lopez gave the thumbs up.

  The pirate captain had given them coordinates to the Vice President’s step daughter’s location. Stark had a satellite ready over the region so it only took a few minutes for him to retask it to view the camp.

  They had dragged the girl out to give proof of life and to confirm her location. Stark had said the young woman looked rough, but alive and overall uninjured.

  The captain had volunteered to come to the camp with them. The sub would take them to the coast then a few hours hike and they could grab the girl and get the hell out of the civil war torn region.

  That was of course, if this wasn’t an elaborate set up. The pirates were known for their cunning and brutality, but double switch back ambushes seemed a little out of their wheelhouse.

  For not the first time, Davidson missed Brandt. The man seemed to have a sixth sense about situations like this. He was like a seer who could read the waters of his own internal scrying pool and decide the best course of action. Not that Davidson didn’t think Lopez was a good leader, but that was it. He was a good leader. Not a great leader. Not that Davidson would ever say that aloud to Lopez. The guy was filling some pretty damn big shoes. Literally. Brandt wore like a thirteen, wide.