The Sniper Behind The Rifle Knew My Breathing Better Than I Did

I found it signed at the bottom of a kill list.

The stairwell went black the second I stepped inside. Not a power failure. A controlled blackout. Somebody wanted me in the dark.

Three floors up, I heard a rifle bolt cycle. Clean. Unhurried.

“Security breach, stairwell B,” I whispered into my mic.

Nothing. Jammed.

Then the footsteps. Slow. Measured. Military continue reading …