Sniper: Ultimate Kill <Top>

In the tower, the shadow shifted. A muzzle rose. Beckett had a split second—the space between heartbeats. He didn't think about the politics or the cartel money. He thought about the lead. He exhaled, feeling the "natural respiratory pause" his father had taught him a lifetime ago. Crack.

"He’s got a thermal," Beckett muttered. "He's waiting for us to sweat." "Then don't," Miller replied. Sniper: Ultimate Kill

Beckett stood up, his joints popping like gunfire. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and looked toward the horizon. The ghost was gone, but in the jungle, the silence never lasted long. In the tower, the shadow shifted

Beside Beckett, Richard Miller—his father’s old protégé and a man who treated war like a chess match—watched through a spotter scope. He didn't think about the politics or the cartel money

Beckett didn't cheer. He didn't move. He stayed on the glass, watching the tower until the dust settled.