The naked edge

22

In the pines to the south, a man wearing a baseball cap gazed through shielded binoculars toward the smoke and flames spreading from the lodge's upper windows. "Cooking nicely, Alpha," he said into a microphone on his shirt collar. "Won't be long now."

"Beta, is your team in place?" the spotter's voice asked.

"On every side."

"They know they're to stay within cover?"

"Affirmative. No need to advance when the target'll do us the favor of leaving his cover. In the confusion, it might be hard to distinguish him from the people with him, though."

"Don't even try. Do them all."

"Repeat, Alpha."

"All. Kill them all," the spotter's voice commanded.

Across the meadow, on the eastern part of the roof, the parched wooden shingles of the lodge exploded into flames.