Читать книгу Royal Protector - Laura Gordon - Страница 12

With the ease of a practiced predator, the sniper moved into position above the trail. Looming pines and rust-colored boulders the size of compact cars afforded him cover, as well as an unobstructed view of his prey. Below, two riders, a man and a woman, came toward him, steadily moving closer to the dark fate he had planned for them.

As he’d been told, the woman rode ahead of her male companion by some fifty yards. She rode well, he couldn’t help noticing, with her pretty blond head held high and her slim body moving in perfect sync with the sleek bay mare. More importantly for his purposes, she rode relaxed, unaware of the danger waiting for her.

The sniper allowed himself a brief smile. So far, so good. Everything had gone according to plan, just the way he liked it. No surprises. But then, that was the advantage of a double-cross. The predator always knew what to expect when his victims willingly assisted in their own demise.

Like shooting fish in a barrel. He eased the butt of the rifle against his shoulder and peered through the scope, prepared to take the next crucial step toward a destiny that had been denied him for too long. With a less sophisticated weapon, the rifle’s report might have carried a half mile, echoing against the red canyon walls. But his silencer was state-of-the-art.

Confidently, he squeezed the trigger. The ensuing pop barely rated a twitch of one velvety ear from the white-tailed doe and her speckled fawn grazing nearby.

Even as the stricken man fell backward out of the saddle, the assassin knew his shot had found its mark. His victim would be dead before he hit the ground.