Kill Code (31 page)

The man pulled a small box from a duffel and started
working on it. What the fuck was he doing?

###

Jackie rode the bus as far as she could take it and
walked the rest of the way. The breeze washed through her hair and
made her feel almost refreshed. She didn't know what she would do
once she got back to the hotel room. Would Leo be there?

###

Jeff Silver gathered up all the resources he could
put his hands on, calling in all favors. It didn't take much to
fire up the HRT to help as they would run over their grandmothers
in an APC to get revenge for their losses. The difficult thing
would be holding them back. They would be very likely to stomp the
shit out of anything that got in their way.

With more time, he could have been subtle, but the
quickness he needed had forced him into using the only tool in his
box, a hammer.

He'd briefed the teams, and they were getting ready
to load up when his cell phone rang. Another number he didn't
recognize.

“FBI Special Agent Jeff Silver.”

“Leo Marston here, you get my earlier message?”

He had to lean down to hear as the engines of the
vehicles started.

“Yes. Where are you?”

“Hanging around. You going to follow up?”

“I can't say.”

“You better. I have one of the people responsible
for the recent carnage tied up in my room. You'll enjoy talking to
her. But don't accept any food or drink from her as she kills using
poison.”

“How are you so sure ...”

“It's the business I used to be in. I know.”

“Are you sending me into a trap?”

“Nope. As soon as I take care of a couple of things,
I'll be happy to talk. But there’s something you could do for me in
the meantime.”

“I'm almost afraid to ask.”

“There’s a guy at the back of my truck which is
parked in the lot across from my hotel room. I think he's a car
bomber. You mind getting there before he blows my truck up?”

“I'll see what I can do.”

“Be careful.”

“Why?”

“Because I won't be there to push your ass out of
the way of a bullet.”

“Is that something that I should be concerned
about?”

Leo laughed. Then he cut the connection.

Double dipped shit.

He jumped into the command vehicle. They had a lot
of traffic to get through to get to the hotel and not a lot of
time. Keying up the radio, he knew he'd have to brief the team
en-route on the change in the situation.

There was the sinking feeling that he was being used
as some sort of bait. But the only way to find out was to put his
ass on the line and wiggle a bit. He hoped that he survived the
experience.

Leo settled in again behind his spotting scope. He
watched with amusement as the heating and cooling guy struggled to
pull a box up through a roof access cover. He should have made it
more collapsible. Or at least improvised a bit more. Roof mounted
air conditioners and heating units tended to be very large in order
to spread their weight out over a larger surface area. So they were
full of lots of empty space that could be used as a sniper
hide.

Shut off the power at the unit, take a screwdriver
and go to town. While he'd never had to shoot from such a hide, he
had been trained in the concept.

Such a hide was for reasonably short term placement,
as sitting in a big metal box for days on end, in the sun, would
cook your brains in your skull. Then there was the possibility of
having to deal with the repairman sent to fix the apparently broken
unit.

He'd liked twisting the tail of the FBI Agent. It
might keep the guy alive long enough for Leo to use him as proper
bait.

Leo wished that he had a sound suppressor for his
rifle. He could shoot the sniper when he got set up and then take a
leisurely shot at the guy placing a car bomb in his truck.

But that wasn't the case, so he would have to make
his shot count and hope the FBI made it in time to prevent his
truck from being blown up.

He scanned the street again with his spotting scope.
There was a familiar figure coming towards the hotel room. He
twisted the zoom on his spotting scope and struggled to make out
the features. Was that Jackie walking up the street?

###

Jackie was lost in her thoughts. How could she track
down the software causing all this mayhem? There had to be some way
to do it.

As a hacker, she knew that what one person had
created, another, smarter hacker could undo. She hoped that she was
that person.

She came to the street where their hotel was. Leo's
truck was parked across the street. Did that mean that he was at
the hotel? For the fortieth time today, she wished that he had a
cell phone. Even though the man was smart and attractive in a rough
way, that was off putting. So unlike Nathan in many ways. Thinking
of Nathan caused a momentary pain in her chest. She shrugged it off
and continued.

Behind Leo's truck was a figure. Was it Leo? There
was only one way to find out. She carefully dodged traffic and made
her way across the street.

###

Leo saw that the sniper had placed himself on top of
the roof, in his hide. From below, it looked like another air
conditioner or heater unit, but Leo could see right into it, where
the sniper had pulled out a rifle, spotting scope and laser range
finder and was carefully surveying the area. He scooted back,
further out of the balcony. Not that he could be spotted from his
angle, but it still paid to be careful.

Consulting his diagram, he figured the range and
angle. The problem was when you shoot on an incline or decline the
force and effect of gravity is less on the bullet, but the sight
plane above the bore of the barrel remains the same. Because of
this, the bullet will have a flatter trajectory and strike the
target higher than what the intended point of aim was. So, to
strike the target, the corrected straight line distance to the
target, or sloped distance, must be corrected for gravity and the
distance to the target.

He pulled the rifle off the case and took aim at the
sniper. When he had the target in his cross hairs, took a look at
the Angle Cosine Indicator (ACI) fastened to his rifle below the
scope rail. Noting the cosine angle, he wrote that down and then
lased the target for a more exact range.

Sliding back, he took out his calculator and
multiplied the cosine number and the distance which gave him the
exact straight line distance to the target. Looking at his rifle
data card which was taped to the stock of his rifle, he changed his
scope settings to match the new distance.

Then he took the temperature, humidity and
barometric pressure. The wind looked to be about five miles an hour
based on a flag flying by the hotel, heading into him. From there,
he calculated the other changes he would need to his scope settings
and checked his math. Right on. He adjusted his scope for the new
settings.

It wasn't as accurate as some of the fancy ballistic
computers the military was now using, but Leo had almost a dozen
years of very long distance shooting. The numbers looked and felt
right, which was much more important than what a computer could
come up with.

Settling in behind his rifle, the coolness of the
stock was reassuringly comfortable. Leo tried to push the thoughts
of Jackie coming down the street and the danger from the car bomber
out of his mind, but struggled to do it.

He couldn't settle his thoughts at all and the scope
danced on the target. Shit.

Fuck it, he thought. He shifted off the rifle and
pointed his spotting scope at his truck. Moving the magnification
out, he saw that Jackie was approaching the truck. Double shit.

There was no way to get a shot at the car bomber
without taking out Jackie. He didn't have the time to properly dope
his rifle for the change in the angle and range. It was a shot that
a movie sniper could do without thinking, but Leo was a realist and
knew he couldn't make both shots.

Now what?

###

Jackie came around the back of the truck. There was
a package sitting on the ground behind the vehicle and someone
working on the topper door.

“Leo?” It didn't look like him from behind, but it
could have been.

“Nope.” He was shorter and stouter than Leo, and was
wearing a Tyvek suit complete with rubber gloves. What the
hell?

“I'm a friend of his, just dropping something off
for him.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. He just wanted me to put
this package in his truck for him.”

Then she saw the screwdriver. He had been trying to
pry the door open with it. She had seen the locks on Leo's truck,
much better than what had come with the vehicle, very difficult to
pick. She could have picked them, but it wouldn't have been
easy.

“I don't think so,” she said, stepping back.

The man pulled the screwdriver free and started
moving towards her.

###

It was now time for Leo to fish or cut bait. The
sniper had set up and was leaning over his rifle. While he couldn't
directly see what the man was doing, he knew—cheek pressed against
the rifle stock in a lover's embrace, all senses focused on the
target, just waiting for the right opportunity.

Leo settled in behind his rifle, shifting so that it
was set at his natural point of aim. Should he shoot and kill the
sniper? Or take out the rifle? He wasn't an assassin anymore, and
couldn't see damaging either.

Shooting to wound wasn't an option as even a tricky
shot into an extremity with the caliber and power of his rifle
would merely prolong death.

He made his decision. Shifted his aim. With a
lover's gentle touch, he caressed the trigger.

###

Jackie didn't know how it happened, but in an
instant, her gun was in her hand, pointing at the stranger's
head.

He stopped. Lowered the screwdriver.

She continued to move back, and settled the front
sight on his groin. It would allow her to see any movement that he
made, and if she had to shoot, the groin was a good place to get
started, and she could use the recoil to walk the rounds up into
his chest and head. It was probably more than a bit disconcerting,
having a pretty girl pointing a big ass gun at your family
jewels.

“Drop it.”

The man smiled. “What are you going to do with
that?”

“Last warning and then you can learn to sing
Castrato.”

“What?”

Didn't anybody ever read anymore? “I'm going to blow
your balls off and keep shooting until you are beyond dead.”

The man dropped the screwdriver.

There was a loud 'BANG.' Then what sounded like a
freight train flew over their heads with a ripping sound ending
with a heart-wrenching crack.

Someone started screaming.

###

His task complete, for the moment, Leo started
packing up his gear. He hated having to put his rifle back in the
case with the barrel still being warm as it would draw humidity as
it cooled. But he needed to get the hell out of here.

A good sniper never fired more than two rounds from
a particular location. To shoot more would invite counter-sniper
fire, or in the modern military, an artillery or air strike.

While he felt that the FBI wasn't forward enough to
employ something like the Boomerang Anti-Sniper System, which used
microphones and sophisticated software to locate a sniper, it still
paid to follow sniper doctrine and beat feet after taking a
shot.

Before he packed his spotting scope away, he looked
down at where his truck was parked. Jackie was pointing a handgun
at someone. Good job. But she was on her own until either the feds
showed up or he was able to get there.

After he was all packed up, he took another look
around. No trace of his presence existed in the room. Before he
left, he made a call.

He tossed his duffel over his shoulder and picked up
his rifle case. Closing the door, he found himself smiling.

###

Despite the sound of what she figured was a gunshot,
Jackie kept her cool and didn't pull the trigger.

He twitched, like he was going to try something.

“Hear that sound? It was my partner. The next shot
is for you. If I don't get you first.”

There was the sound of screeching tires, vehicle
doors opening and running.

Three men dressed completely in tactical black with
'FBI' across their chest in big white letters came from the
street.

All of them pointed guns, short barreled rifles, at
her. One shouted, “Don't move. FBI.”

She followed their instructions and soon found
herself disarmed, and being handcuffed and dragged away along with
the guy who had been fooling with Leo's truck.

Two men in heavily armored bomb suits approached the
package.

“What's in that?”

She didn't get an answer and was led out into the
street.

There was a man in a suit and body armor, wearing an
FBI windbreaker, standing by a black van that had apparently
brought the other FBI agents. The man had dark circles under his
eyes and gray stubble showing on his unshaven face. His shirt was
wrinkled and it looked like he had slept in it. He looked exhausted
as he sucked on a cup of coffee.

“You Jackie Winn?”

She nodded.

“Where's Leo?”

“I haven't seen him in a couple of days. But I think
I heard him working.”

A tired smile showed briefly on his face.

“I'm FBI Agent Jeff Silver. It's been a tough week
or so.”

“I can imagine. Am I under arrest?”

“Not for now. But we do need to talk.”

“Will I need a lawyer?”

He shrugged. “It's entirely up to you. But I'm not
currently looking at charging you with anything as long as you
cooperate.”

She turned around so her back was towards him. “How
about we lose the handcuffs then?”