When she reached the top, she pulled herself up onto the narrow metal walkway that ran around the bottom half of the million-gallon tank. Looking out over the landscape for the first time, she was taken aback by the view. With Florida being so unbelievably flat, she was able to see the distant glow of the Upper Keys to the southeast, the bright lights of Miami to the northeast, and the dark, seemingly never-ending Everglades to the west.
She settled on the southern side of the walkway and gazed through the forest. She could see the alligator farm half a mile away. There weren’t many lights on, but the few glows were a sharp contrast to the near-total darkness surrounding it. Just beyond the center of the farm, she could see the one-lane drag lined with an army of police cars, SWAT trucks, and news vans.
Grabbing her night vision scope, she zoomed in on the center of the farm. No movement caught her attention initially, then she spotted a bald guy dressed in a tank top as he walked around to the back side of the main structure.
Logan’s voice came over her earpiece speaker. “We have visual of the compound,” he said.
A moment later, her husband notified them of the bored, tired-looking guy making his rounds at the back of the main building.
Ange dropped to one knee and slid off her backpack. Setting her scope on the floor, she unzipped her bag and slid out the hard case. In less than a minute, she had her collapsible Lapua sniper rifle out, assembled, loaded up, and ready to go with the scope attached.
On the ground below, Ange watched as Scott piloted the drone up over the tree line. She was amazed at how quiet it was. She could barely hear it as it soared up and across the sky, heading for the compound. She wasn’t surprised at how advanced the little craft was, however. She knew enough about Murph to know that the notorious hacker and brilliant inventor was nothing short of a genius. And now with near-limitless funding, it was obvious that even the sky couldn’t limit what he was capable of.
Ange listened to the comms as Scott performed an initial sweep with the drone, pointing out three guys at the front of the property. She covered her husband, as well as Jason, as they moved in to take out the guy she’d spotted and a second guy who’d arrived minutes earlier.
With her finger on the trigger, she focused through the scope as Logan closed in on an unsuspecting skinhead. She watched as he lunged, grabbed the guy from behind, and knocked him out with a punch to the back of the guy’s head.
Panning over to the right, she saw Jason drag the second guy into the shadows as well.
“Scottie, we’ve got two down,” Logan said into the radio.
“Third’s sleeping in the parking lot,” Scott replied. “This thing works like a dream.”
Ange watched as Logan and Jason met up, then saw the back door of the structure slam open and a man step out with a rifle. She was just about to put him down, but Logan beat her to it, throwing his knife then scuffling with the guy for a few seconds before subduing him.
Two more guys came running around the side of the house. Logan scurried to his feet, and he and Jason took cover, aimed their rifles, and put both men down. As the shooting broke out, Ange kept calm and continued surveying the area. Suddenly, movement caught her eye. It was subtle and came from the top of her field of vision. From up on the roof.
She smoothly adjusted her aim upward. The movement hadn’t been just her imagination, or something loose in the breeze. It was a skinhead and he had his rifle aimed down, straight at Logan and Jason. She put the guy in her crosshairs just as the two realized their attacker was there.
Time slowed. Ange held her breath, steadied her aim, and pulled the trigger. The high-caliber round boomed and the rifle recoiled, punching into her shoulder. The bullet took just over a second to cover the distance. It struck the guy through the chest, blowing a spray of blood out his back and causing his body to jerk and tumble forward.
FORTY-FIVE
Catching a split-second glance of the guy on the roof and his rifle aiming straight at us, I dropped and whipped my M4 around, but I knew that I’d be too late. By the time I took aim, he’d pull the trigger, sending a storm of bullets our way. My mind flashed to what Jason had said about our bulletproof vests, and I just hoped we’d be hit center mass.
The moment I hit the ground, the guy up on the roof who I knew only as Casper jerked and blood sprayed out his back. A fraction of a second later, a loud boom echoed across the air. Casper fell backward, slamming against the metal roof and letting go of his weapon as he rolled down the angled slope. He tumbled right over the edge, his lifeless body falling ten feet and bashing into the dirt.
I glanced over my shoulder, gazing northwest toward the distant water tower.
“Hell of a shot, Ange,” I said into my radio.
The moment the words left my lips, Scott’s voice came over the speaker.
“I’ve got a visual on Lynch,” he said, his tone rushed and serious. The mention of the name garnered all my attention in a heartbeat. “He’s exiting the front of the house and bolting east toward the garage.”
Just as Scott’s words died, I spun left and broke into a sprint along the back side of the house. Jason kept right at my heels. I pumped my arms as hard as I could, wanting to reach
