Sniper's Eye (7even Series Book 1) by Dhar Mainak

Author:Dhar, Mainak [Dhar, Mainak]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: 4 Hour Press (Trade Imprint of India Research Press); First edition (2018)
Published: 2018-10-02T16:00:00+00:00

Sharma was the first to fall, a red stain spreading across his white shirt. I turned around and saw that Mithun had his pistol up and was training it on the van ahead. A mist of red sprayed out from his shoulder as he was hit. A split second later the crack of the rifle bullet passed close to my ear. I looked around frantically and ran towards a car parked on the side of the road, flattening myself behind it.

Mithun was still alive and groaning in pain. His gun was just a few feet away from me, and as I tried to reach it, a shot bounced off the ground inches from my hand. The bastard had me trapped and he knew it.

Phadke was shouting in my ear. 'What the hell is going on? Is that shooting I hear?'

Before I could answer, Thapa cut in. 'Do you need reinforcements?'

'Thapa, you bet your ass I do. Sharma and Mithun are both down and I'm trapped here.'

'Roger, help is on the way. Hang in there.'

I cursed loudly, not caring that Phadke and Thapa could hear me. How the hell was I supposed to 'hang in there'? I crawled till I was behind the front of the car. Even if they wanted to take shots at me, the front of the car had all kinds of things in it – the engine block, for one – which would stop a bullet. Hiding behind the back of the car would likely mean being hit by a bullet which could travel through the hollow trunk. But that small measure of safety was the only consolation I had. If Karzai wanted me dead, there was very little I could do about it. They could rush me. And, unarmed I could do little against men with guns. But if Karzai wanted to get me alive, it would be a little bit trickier. Then again, there was little chance of me getting away. I was alone, unarmed and starting to wonder just how long Thapa's reinforcements would take in getting there.

I didn't have to wait to find out because footsteps approached the car. I snuck a peek and saw three men – two carrying long knives and one a hockey stick. To anyone watching from the adjoining buildings, they would look like ordinary rioters, who, judging by the pillars of smoke I could now see rising in the distance, were going about their nasty business. I knew a gunman was in the van, perhaps Karzai himself, but the fact that he was sending three thugs to get me told me he still wanted me alive, instead of just putting a bullet in my head at long range.

To fight or to surrender? I sat back, my eyes closed for a second, thinking of Zoya, thinking of the life we might have had together, one that now we would perhaps never get to experience. I thought of that fateful evening at the mall, when I had thrust myself into the middle of this deadly drama.

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