The naked edge

20

On the ridge, the sniper worked the bolt on his rifle, chambering another round.

"Clever," the spotter said, peering through binoculars at the haze in a ground-level room down there.

"I'm just getting started. Check the attic window on this side." The sniper shifted his aim toward the top of the building. With practiced ease, he pulled the trigger and absorbed the recoil as the rifle's sound suppressor made a noise similar to a fist hitting a pillow. Keeping his eye on the powerful scope, he saw a hole appear in the attic window. "Keep handing me ammunition."

"Still incendiaries?" the spotter asked.

"What else? When you were a kid, didn't you like to play with fire?"

"No, I just tortured animals."

"Tortured…? That's a joke, right?"

"Of course."

"Man, sometimes you worry me." The shooter squeezed off another round, then quickly reloaded.

In an amazingly smooth, fast series, he pumped incendiary bullets through every window on the eastern side of the lodge's second level.