Wu Tian prepared himself regardless. He lifted his H&K MP7 submachine gun and pointed the stubby suppressor through the netting at the hikers, tracing their winding movement through the canyon.
“I’ve got the one on the right,” he said, sighting in on the blonde in pigtails.
“Steady,” she cautioned, watching his short barrel drift slowly from right to left as he tracked his target. The women would never even know a trained commando had already calculated the lead, factoring in the swirling wind and drop of the heavy 4.6 x 30mm round. They were only a breath away from being killed and had no idea.
With relaxed curiosity, she watched Wu Tian following the hikers’ movements and listened to the faint echo of their distant chattering when she heard a soft whir from over her left shoulder. Turning her head slowly, she saw a red light flicker on as the satellite transceiver began downloading the promised software patch.
Wu Tian ignored the sounds of the electronic equipment behind him, focused instead on keeping his weapon trained on the unsuspecting hikers less than one hundred yards down the slope. He shifted his body weight slightly, disturbing a small stone that tumbled a few feet before catching on the netting.
“Easy,” she warned, holding her breath while watching the bobbing heads for any sign they had picked up the faint noise. But their chattering continued unabated, and their steady gait appeared unfazed. The wind lower in the canyon must have drowned out whatever sound the falling rock had caused.
“How much longer for the download?” Wu Tian asked.
She reached for the portable tablet computer and tapped on several icons before accessing the information she needed. “It’s almost complete.”
Wu Tian took his eyes off his target to glance over his shoulder at her, and the stone that had caught in the netting slipped underneath the loose material and tumbled down the hill, picking up speed at an alarming rate and bouncing off larger rocks with a clatter.
“Shit,” he muttered, shifting targets to sight in on the brunette, whose head whipped in their direction.
“She heard that,” Chen said, discarding the tablet for her MP7.
They held their breaths, listening to the fading echo of the falling rocks as they waited to see if the women would spook and bolt back down the canyon or just attribute the falling rocks as an expected part of nature.
Then the blonde pointed directly at them and shielded her eyes against the sun, squinting through the glare to make out whatever had caught her attention.
“Take them,” Chen ordered before uttering a quiet curse.
Wu Tian’s MP7 submachine gun spat two rounds in quick succession, hitting the brunette high on her forehead, ripping the bandanna off as her head snapped back and showered the canyon in crimson. His second shot missed high. He pivoted slightly and fired two rounds at the blonde that missed completely. The last thing they saw was the frenzied whipping of blond pigtails as she looked at her fallen companion and ducked out of sight.
Chen rushed at Wu Tian and shoved him forward. “Get her!”
He ripped the camouflage netting up and tossed it over his head, exposing them to the deep blue sky above. Then, without another word, he hurled himself down the hill, sliding and leaping as he gave chase to the blonde.
“Don’t let her get away!” Chen shouted.
Colt dropped the parachute bag containing his flight gear on the ground near the double glass doors leading out onto the flight line. He had almost forgotten it inside the Corvette’s trunk, but a flash of olive drab canvas through the splintered fiberglass reminded him that he had signed a sheet of paper taking responsibility for the almost half-million-dollar helmet. It seemed such a trivial thing, given the circumstances, but he was in enough hot water already.
“What’s in there?” Punky asked, holding a rag against the gash she’d sustained on her forehead when it slammed into the unforgiving steering wheel.
Colt ignored the question and gave her a serious look. “I think it’s time you told me what
She glanced at the college co-eds working behind the desk, then back to Colt. “Can we go somewhere more private?”
He was getting tired of being jerked around but knew of no place more private than in the cockpit of his plane. He nodded at the receptionists and heard a
“Where are we going?”
“Point Mugu,” he said.
She pulled even with him and shook her head. “No, we’re not. We need to go find my partner.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her. The pain was still evident on her face, but she masked it behind a professional determination he recognized in almost every warrior he’d served alongside.
