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

cadence I’d recognize anywhere.

“Whoever you are,” I said, “you picked the wrong building.”

“No, Dana.” The voice froze me where I stood. “I picked the only building you’d walk into without backup.”

Colonel Raymond Kesler. The man who signed my discharge papers. The man who should’ve been on a porch in Tucson watching his grandkids.

A flashlight clicked continue reading …