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

on three steps above me. He looked exactly the same. Calm. Like he was running a briefing.

“You’re supposed to be retired,” I said.

“So were you.”

Another shot cracked above us – not at me. At the emergency exit. He was locking us in.

Then he stepped aside.

Behind him stood a second figure. Sniper rifle. Laser sight painting a red dot directly over my sternum.continue reading …