KNIGHT'S REPORTS: 3 Book Set Read Online Free PDF Page B

twist sideways like a bullfighter stepping away from the bull, as the sniper fires. The bullet misses my chest by what couldn’t be more than a millimeter.
    He’s surprised but quickly adjusts.
    Now I’m twenty feet away.
    He squeezes off another hasty shot, as I zig in the other direction.
    The bullet misses again. I assess my target.
    At ten feet, I zag away. The guy’s so flustered, he misses a third time.
    Now I’m on him, and I kick the rifle up and out of his hand as it discharges a fourth time, the bullet going wild.
    My next move is quick, but couldn’t be more carefully planned. I’m just glad he’s not very tall — I haven’t done my stretches.
    I kick him once more, this time under the jaw.
    T he guy's head snaps up and back, unnaturally — the base of his skull separating from the top of his vertebrae, his neck breaking in a loud crack.
    No reason to check, I’ve heard that sound before. The assailant is either dead or paralyzed.
    I turn toward Tamara. Number two is bringing her closer, toward her car. I’m thinking he’s coming to finish me off and check on his partner. They must be a close team, maybe brothers. If they were only after the money, the survivor would have left on his own.
    The second guy and Tamara are now about seventy-five feet away.
    She’s lucky he hasn’t killed her already, if that’s what they were here to do. Maybe it’s a kidnap-if-you-can-for-a- bonus, kill-if-you-can’t . Regardless, if given a chance, I’m sure he’ll use her as a hostage and a shield.
    But Tamara surprises me, while surprising number two even more. She stomps her right high hee l into the top of the guy's foot and then twists out of his grasp.
    I’m sprinting at the second attacker now.
    He has a small handgun, and he’s bringing it to bear on Tamara as she stumbles away.
    She kicks her remaining shoe off and runs barefooted back across the parking lot toward the marina restaurant.
    Ah-h-h! I shout to divert the assailant’s attention.
    Number two makes a slight adjustment, as Tamara rushes past Lt. Legend and then me.
    The Lieutenant struggles to get up, her own handgun a good six feet from where she’s now kneeling.
    The second assassin brings his gun to bear on me.
    I have one thing going for me; number two saw what happened to his buddy, and he’s probably a bit shaken up. I seem to have that effect on folks.
    He fires his Kimber Compact .45 ACP, a loud report compared to the silenced rifle.
    This time he gets me, the bullet grazing my left shoulder.
    The guy’s definitely afraid of me — he’s moved to the back bumper of Tamara’s car. A split second separates his second shot from the first.
    But I’m leaping to the side, behind the front end of Tamara’s car when the gun fires. That round cleanly misses me.
    I’m ducked down. Figuring t he assassin will shift to the other side of the car, I move swiftly back around to where he’d been.
    When the assassin turns, I’m standing fully beside him at the back of the car.
    In the next second, before he turns the pistol back to me, the short stocky man finds my foot in his face.
    The bridge of his nose breaks, and its sharp end has been driven into his brain.
    They didn’t call me “The Mule” in the Marines for just the one reason!
    *   *   *
    I went to Lt. Legend and knelt by her side. She was still trying to stand to get to her sidearm.
    “You’ve been shot. The shooters are no longer a threat. You need to lie back down.”
    Sirens blare.
    “Help’s on its way, Lieutenant,” I assure her.
    “Harper,” she said.
    “What?”
    “You can call me Harper . I figure you’ve probably earned it.” She collapsed to the side. Although an initial assessment told me her wound didn’t appear to be as bad as it could have been, I wished I could help her. But my hands were still zip-tied behind me.
    Then I felt tugging at my wrists.
    “And you can call me Tamara , E Z,” Tamara said from behind me. “You’ve definitely earned