Bernadette climbed a fallen tree to gain a better tactical advantage. Her favorite pine-needled Ghillie suit was making it challenging to climb. The distance of her hideout and the brightness of her target made the shot a little easier and she would take every advantage, since she didn’t have a spotter.

  “Are you in position yet, Birney?” Operator 47 said.

  She adjusted the volume on her earpiece. Even though she was in a secluded area, it wouldn’t do to draw unnecessary attention.

  “Affirmative, and the target just entered my sights.”

  “Fire at will.”

  Bernadette took the shot, but it didn’t hit her intended target. Even though the pre-dawn air measured ninety-four percent humidity, she compensated for the twelve-hundred-meter distance by subtracting zero-point-two mils from her dry-air dope and entered the figures on her slate. She even accounted for a relative wind speed of seven miles-per-hour by zero-point-six mil. She added another one-tenth to her calculations to account for the wind drift. She played back the scene in her mind. It was like the old man knew of her existence. He stepped aside in the nick of time. But someone ate the bullet, and she lost her element of surprise.

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  Die fucker!

  She made some compensating adjustments and then kept firing.

  Damnit, I almost hit the kid. What the hell is she doing?

  She lined up another shot; the old Samurai had switched positions, and he was now in her sights. A box of donuts exploded next to the old man’s head. Blood dripped across his face.

  Nicked that bugger.

  After making a few more adjustments, her dream shot was in view. Bernadette centered her crosshairs on Hiroto’s face. She double-checked her readings. She couldn’t afford any more fuck ups. As she squeezed the trigger, white-hot pain shot up her arm. She glimpsed a wild animal that resembled a long rat with a massive tail.

  A ferret’s head popped in her line of sight.

  What in the bloody hell is that doing here?

  A squealing sound followed by more pain. She reached for her bayonet and tried stabbing the creature. She lost her footing and fell off the tree.

  “What’s happening? You’re shooting everything, but the target,” Operator 47 chided.

  “I’m under attack,” Bernadette snarled.

  “Well, take care of it, then kill the girl before I kill you.”

  “Come—I’d like to see you try!”

  Moments later, Bernadette quickly packed up. Her position was exposed and couldn’t afford to be discovered. The Samuari’s day would end soon enough, she promised herself.