Betrayal Read Online Free PDF Page B

allowed her breathing to come slower and deeper, her heart rate to calm, her muscles to relax. Sniping was one of the most difficult skills for any operative to master; years of training and preparation all coming down to a single moment of truth. One shot, one chance, one kill.
    ‘Ten seconds.’
    Opening her eyes once more, she leaned into the scope, surveying the traffic on the freeway until she found what she was looking for. A pair of silver Mercedes-Benz sedans travelling in loose convoy in the centre lane. Distance, 700 metres. Speed, approximately 40mph.
    ‘Five seconds.’
    She needed no prompting now. Sighting the second car in the convoy, she focused in on the left side of the windshield. The glass was tinted as it often was on official vehicles, making it difficult to see the driver, but it didn’t matter. She was familiar with the make and model of the car and knew exactly where he would be seated.
    Her gloved finger tightened on the trigger.
    ‘Now.’
    Exhaling slowly, she fired.
    The recoil of a single 12.7mm round slammed the weapon back into her shoulder with bruising force. The blast from the muzzle caused a shockwave to spread across the metal vent cover in front of her, raising tiny showers of water, while the boom of the discharging round left her ears ringing.
    Half a second later she watched as the toughened windshield exploded inwards, accompanied by a sudden cloud of red that coated the broken glass.
    Straight away her right hand was moving, working the bolt to eject the spent cartridge and draw a fresh one into the breech. There was a loud click as the moving parts worked, followed by a dull ping as the spent casing clattered on to the rooftop, smoking and sizzling where it rested on the damp surface.
    She was no longer looking at the second car in the convoy. That was done now. It would only be a matter of moments before the driver of the lead vehicle looked behind and realised something was wrong.
    There was a brief blur of movement as she shifted her aim, focusing on the lead vehicle. Her shoulder was aching now from the impact, but she ignored the pain as she worked the bolt action, lining up her second shot. Vaguely she was aware of the growing panic on the highway as her first target slewed sideways, crashing into a people carrier and pinning the lighter vehicle against the freeway’s concrete wall. Horn blasts and the screech of brakes filled the air as motorists tried to work out what was happening.
    The driver of the lead Mercedes had picked up on it too, but unlike the bored commuters around him, he knew exactly what to do and jammed his foot down on the accelerator. His training would have kicked in now, telling him to speed up, put in evasive manoeuvres, get clear of the kill zone as fast as possible.
    Anya could tell he was heading for an off-ramp about 100 yards further down the freeway, part of a big interchange between two other main drags. Unfortunately, to get there he had no choice but to come straight at her.
    With the second round now chambered, she swung the long eager barrel left, tracking her target as it tried to weave through the dense traffic. The driver’s efforts were in vain as she sent a round straight for him, punching through the windshield and killing him instantly.
    Caught in the midst of a sharp left turn, the Mercedes yawed hard left and slammed into the central reservation before flipping and rolling over.
    Two shots, two kills. She had done her part. The rest was out of her hands.
    Drake started at the muted boom of the first shot, wondering for a moment if he had heard the crack of thunder in the darkened skies overhead. However, the second shot a few seconds later, followed by a crash and the blare of car horns on the nearby freeway, quickly shattered that illusion. Someone was firing on the slow-moving traffic.
    He knew the sound of a high-powered sniper rifle well enough, and his experiences of urban combat told him it had come from nearby. Straight