Jackie was lost in her thoughts. How could she track down the software causing all this mayhem? There had to be some way to do it.
As a hacker, she knew that what one person had created, another, smarter hacker could undo. She hoped that she was that person.
She came to the street where their hotel was. Leo's truck was parked across the street. Did that mean that he was at the hotel? For the fortieth time today, she wished that he had a cell phone. Even though the man was smart and attractive in a rough way, that was off putting. So unlike Nathan in many ways. Thinking of Nathan caused a momentary pain in her chest. She shrugged it off and continued.
Behind Leo's truck was a figure. Was it Leo? There was only one way to find out. She carefully dodged traffic and made her way across the street.
Leo saw that the sniper had placed himself on top of the roof, in his hide. From below, it looked like another air conditioner or heater unit, but Leo could see right into it, where the sniper had pulled out a rifle, spotting scope and laser range finder and was carefully surveying the area. He scooted back, further out of the balcony. Not that he could be spotted from his angle, but it still paid to be careful.
Consulting his diagram, he figured the range and angle. The problem was when you shoot on an incline or decline the force and effect of gravity is less on the bullet, but the sight plane above the bore of the barrel remains the same. Because of this, the bullet will have a flatter trajectory and strike the target higher than what the intended point of aim was. So, to strike the target, the corrected straight line distance to the target, or sloped distance, must be corrected for gravity and the distance to the target.
He pulled the rifle off the case and took aim at the sniper. When he had the target in his cross hairs, took a look at the Angle Cosine Indicator (ACI) fastened to his rifle below the scope rail. Noting the cosine angle, he wrote that down and then lased the target for a more exact range.
Sliding back, he took out his calculator and multiplied the cosine number and the distance which gave him the exact straight line distance to the target. Looking at his rifle data card which was taped to the stock of his rifle, he changed his scope settings to match the new distance.
Then he took the temperature, humidity and barometric pressure. The wind looked to be about five miles an hour based on a flag flying by the hotel, heading into him. From there, he calculated the other changes he would need to his scope settings and checked his math. Right on. He adjusted his scope for the new settings.
It wasn't as accurate as some of the fancy ballistic computers the military was now using, but Leo had almost a dozen years of very long distance shooting. The numbers looked and felt right, which was much more important than what a computer could come up with.
Settling in behind his rifle, the coolness of the stock was reassuringly comfortable. Leo tried to push the thoughts of Jackie coming down the street and the danger from the car bomber out of his mind, but struggled to do it.
He couldn't settle his thoughts at all and the scope danced on the target. Shit.
Fuck it, he thought. He shifted off the rifle and pointed his spotting scope at his truck. Moving the magnification out, he saw that Jackie was approaching the truck. Double shit.
There was no way to get a shot at the car bomber without taking out Jackie. He didn't have the time to properly dope his rifle for the change in the angle and range. It was a shot that a movie sniper could do without thinking, but Leo was a realist and knew he couldn't make both shots.
Now what?
Jackie came around the back of the truck. There was a package sitting on the ground behind the vehicle and someone working on the topper door.
“Leo?” It didn't look like him from behind, but it could have been.
“Nope.” He was shorter and stouter than Leo, and was wearing a Tyvek suit complete with rubber gloves. What the hell?
“I'm a friend of his, just dropping something off for him.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “I don't know. He just wanted me to put this package in his truck for him.”
Then she saw the screwdriver. He had been trying to pry the door open with it. She had seen the locks on Leo's truck, much better than what had come with the vehicle, very difficult to pick. She could have picked them, but it wouldn't have been easy.
“I don't think so,” she said, stepping back.
The man pulled the screwdriver free and started moving towards her.
It was now time for Leo to fish or cut bait. The sniper had set up and was leaning over his rifle. While he couldn't directly see what the man was doing, he knew — cheek pressed against the rifle stock in a lover's embrace, all senses focused on the target, just waiting for the right opportunity.
Leo settled in behind his rifle, shifting so that it was set at his natural point of aim. Should he shoot and kill the sniper? Or take out the rifle? He wasn't an assassin anymore, and couldn't see damaging either.
Shooting to wound wasn't an option as even a tricky shot into an extremity with the caliber and power of his rifle would merely prolong death.
He made his decision. Shifted his aim. With a lover's gentle touch, he caressed the trigger.
Jackie didn't know how it happened, but in an instant, her gun was in her hand, pointing at the stranger's head.
He stopped. Lowered the screwdriver.
She continued to move back, and settled the front sight on his groin. It would allow her to see any movement that he made, and if she had to shoot, the groin was a good place to get started, and she could use the recoil to walk the rounds up into his chest and head. It was probably more than a bit disconcerting, having a pretty girl pointing a big ass gun at your family jewels.
“Drop it.”
The man smiled. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Last warning and then you can learn to sing Castrato.”
“What?”
Didn't anybody ever read anymore? “I'm going to blow your balls off and keep shooting until you are beyond dead.”
The man dropped the screwdriver.
There was a loud 'BANG.' Then what sounded like a freight train flew over their heads with a ripping sound ending with a heart-wrenching crack.
Someone started screaming.
His task complete, for the moment, Leo started packing up his gear. He hated having to put his rifle back in the case with the barrel still being warm as it would draw humidity as it cooled. But he needed to get the hell out of here.
A good sniper never fired more than two rounds from a particular location. To shoot more would invite counter-sniper fire, or in the modern military, an artillery or air strike.
While he felt that the FBI wasn't forward enough to employ something like the Boomerang Anti-Sniper System, which used microphones and sophisticated software to locate a sniper, it still paid to follow sniper doctrine and beat feet after taking a shot.
Before he packed his spotting scope away, he looked down at where his truck was parked. Jackie was pointing a handgun at someone. Good job. But she was on her own until either the feds showed up or he was able to get there.
After he was all packed up, he took another look around. No trace of his presence existed in the room. Before he left, he made a call.
He tossed his duffel over his shoulder and picked up his rifle case. Closing the door, he found himself smiling.
Despite the sound of what she figured was a gunshot, Jackie kept her cool and didn't pull the trigger.
He twitched, like he was going to try something.
“Hear that sound? It was my partner. The next shot is for you. If I don't get you first.”