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Kyrkos took three more steps into the grassy courtyard. He stopped under a fig tree. Plucked one of the fruits. I watched him eat it, while training the crosshairs on the middle of his forehead. He was still chewing. Still holding that cat…

Take the shot.

I’d already flipped the safety. All I had to do was curl my finger around the trigger…

You get the shot, you take the shot. Don’t hesitate.

I trained the crosshairs down Kyrkos’s thick neck… onto his hairy chest. No use in taking chances. With the .50 cal it didn’t matter. A strong hit, anywhere center mass, and the exit wound itself cause lethality.

The three men behind him stood arms crossed, looking in no particular direction. They should’ve been looking for me. Too late now.

Kyrkos reached for another fig, and I anticipated his moment. At the same time, I took a long, controlled breath.

I let it out slowly… then squeezed through the trigger.

CRACK!

The rifle barked. I absorbed the recoil. The shot reverberated so loudly through the canyon, Kyrkos’s cat leapt from his shoulder and landed six feet away.

No, that’s not right.

Kyrkos fell backward with a guttural scream. His men rushed to him instantly. Something blossomed on his robe. Bright red. Blood…

No, the cat was jumping even before you hit him.

Quickly I replayed the whole thing in my mind. Kyrkos, reaching for the fig. The cat, pawing at him from out of nowhere, causing him to lean backward to avoid its claw…

FUCK.

I looked again, hoping for a second shot. The courtyard was empty now. Floating up from below I could hear screams and shouts. The loud barking of orders.

That damned cat!

Abandoning the rifle, I flew down the hill… but not before drawing my radio first.

“Three alpha bravo, three alpha bravo, come in!”

Static. Nothing.

I was sprinting on legs that were still asleep. I’d gone straight into a full-fledged run, and now they were screaming for oxygen.

“THREE ALPHA BRAVO, PICK UP!”

I called into the radio again and again, while still flying down the rocky path. Three times I almost fell. One time, arms pinwheeling, I nearly lost the radio, too.

But no one answered.

Shit!

Somehow I made the villa in record time. My feet were all pins and needles. The muscles in my back, totally locked up.

“Holden! Randall!”

I burst through the door. Kicked open the bedrooms.

“ANDREA! HOLDEN! RAND—”

My head whipped left, then right, as my body spun in a frantic circle. I ran through the kitchen, the living area, through the front and back.