Page 41 of Rise of the King (Checkmate 5)

Two vans, two thugs, one driver, and the rich guy remain.

It’s time to work.

The Maxim Silencer attached to the end of my rifle makes it so they won’t be tipped off until the first guy falls. Then I’ll have a single second to make my final shots before they scatter and hide.

Choosing my target and breathing through the adrenaline, I watch the thug’s glittering gold tooth through my scope, wait for him to move away from in front of the van windows, and when I have him exactly where he needs to be, I focus on the breeze and calculate my shot.

Eleven hundred yards is a long way to shoot, not the longest, not the hardest, but enough that I could fuck it up if I don’t account for the distance and breeze. Sliding my rifle a little to the left, I count, focus, breathe, then squeeze the trigger.

Four and a half seconds after the bullet leaves my rifle, it passes through the gangbanger’s head, and it explodes like a watermelon on concrete. As predicted, the girls’ screams give away that I’m here.

Fast, I rack my rifle, move my scope further to the right, and find my second target. No time to breathe, I calculate the trajectory, take my shot while he’s on the move, and make the hit when he runs straight into it.

The guy in the suit holds his gun and shoots his gaze in my direction, but no one will see me.

I’m a fuckin’ ghost.

I’m the best-trained ghost this side of the equator.

The suit turns on his heels while the vans rock with the girls’ screaming. Diving into the front passenger seat of his fancy car, he slams the door closed, then turns to his driver just as my third shot passes through the windshield and slams the driver’s head back against the seat.

“Come on out, motherfucker.” My breath comes out on a white fog. “Ask me for mercy, I dare you.”

Panicking, he tries to push the driver’s side door open. I watch through my scope as he tries to push the driver out of the car but forgets to unbuckle the seatbelt. He shoots off rounds through the car window that come nowhere near me, and when he realizes he has no fucking clue where I am, he pushes out of the car and thunders toward the van with his gun pointed at the girls.

I’ll take them out!I can’t hear him, but I see his lips move.I’ll fucking execute them!

“No you won’t.” Racking for the fourth and final time and squeezing the trigger, I nod with satisfaction when the bullet passes through his heart and he drops to his knees on the hard-packed dirt.

In a suit, on his knees.

Exactly where he fucking belongs.

Knowing he’s the last man here, I take out my phone and open it up to my email.

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From: KingOnD8

Subject: It’s done.

Six gangsters, one purchaser, and his driver – all dead.

Twenty-one girls are split between two vans.

Make an anonymous call to the local PD and get someone out here to collect them.

I’ll wait until the cops arrive, then I want a day off.

Good looking out on this one, Ace; twenty-one women are safe today because of us.

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