Match Grade: Assassins (Criminal Delights Book 6) by G.B. Gordon

Author:G.B. Gordon [Gordon, G.B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Viridi Press
Published: 2019-05-02T16:00:00+00:00

Eirik pulled the neck of his t-shirt up over his nose and hunkered down on the floor.

Matt tied a bandana over the lower half of his face. "Do we have a plan B?" he coughed.

Eirik shook his head. That was the one drawback with planning everything. If something this unplanned came up, he was screwed.

In his corner by the fireplace, Cyrus broke into a series of sneezes, and Eirik went over to him and covered the carrier with his jacket. He had no idea if that would help, but it was all he had.

"Okay," Matt said. "Here's what we'll do. You crawl up on the top bunk with your rifle. I'll open the door, and when he fires, you shoot at his muzzle flash."

"That's not a plan, that's a blaze-of-glory scenario," Eirik growled. "For one thing, you'll be dead before you let go of the door, for another he moves after every shot--

"He's shot bursts the last couple of times. How quickly can you reload that thing?"

Eirik looked at the Ruger No.1 "As fast as you can re-chamber a bolt action."

"So? If you don't get him with the first shot, you'll get him with the second. You're the target wizard here."

"Except you're not asking me to aim, you're asking me to guess at the target."

Matt made chicken sounds.

"Fuck you." It was the most desperate plan Eirik had ever heard of. But then they were desperate.

"I'd rather go out in a blaze of glory than a blaze of barbecue," Matt said, more serious now. "And we're running out of time."

"Fuck." Eirik grabbed the rifle and box of .45-70, whispering fucks under his breath as he climbed into the upper bunk, rolling onto his belly and getting into shooting position along the very outside edge for the widest possible field in the direction where the fire had started. "He'll be off to the side, at an impossible angle," he groused.

Matt shrugged, barely visible through the smoke. "If he can hit us, you can hit him." He coughed again, holding his side. "Ready?"

Eirik brought the stock up to his cheek. The scope would be as good as useless in the dark, but he had neither the time nor the tools to remove it. He closed his eye against the cheek pad. "Go."

Matt reached across the door, quietly raised the bolt, then, hanging on to it, flung himself back and the door wide.

Eirik barely had time to sight through the scope, before a barrage of shots started to take the frame apart. He put the shot into the centre of the flash grouping that had been tracking to the right, then immediately reloaded. The fucker had been moving as he shot. Eirik's ears rang, then the crackle and pop of the fire slowly came back.

"Did you get him?" Matt asked from his corner.

Eirik tried to answer, but his throat seized and a series of coughs racked it. "Don't know," he wheezed.

Matt pulled the jacket towards himself that he'd discarded earlier, when he'd patched himself up.

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