Chapter One
The trigger felt right.
The sight was zeroed in, the balance perfect. The
Remington 700/40 fit her body and her mind like an old
friend she could trust, and Jasmine "Jazz" Parker didn't
trust easily. But she and this rifle were connected in a
way a lover, friend, or family could never be. The
Remington would never let her down.
The only hitch—she didn't have an ideal shot at
the kidnapper. Not yet, anyway.
Sweat beaded her brow in the Colorado midmorning sun.
Without taking her gaze from her target, she wiped away the
perspiration. Every second counted, and she had to stay
ready. Negotiations had fallen apart hours ago and the
ending seemed inevitable. To save the governor's daughter,
Jazz would excise the five-year-old girl's captor.
Jazz shifted, relieving the pressure against her knees,
the stiffness in her hips, but the rifle remained steady.
She centered her sight on the small break in the window.
Having focused through the high-powered Leupold scope
for hours, she waited for an opportunity for the scumbag's
blond head to move into range. They all made a mistake
sooner or later. His face or the back of his head, she
didn't care, but she needed a clear shot through to the
medulla oblongata. The kill had to be clean; the man had to
crumple with no time to think and no reflex to pull the
trigger.
"Blue Four, have you acquired the target?"
The question came through her earpiece loud and clear,
but she spoke quietly into the microphone. "Negative."
"Blue Two, what is target's position?"
"Zone Two, pacing. He's carrying the girl, a gun at
her
head, a Bowie on the southeast corner table. He's nervous,
unpredictable."
Jazz could trust Gabe Montgomery's assessment of the
situation. He, unlike his brother, Luke, she could count
on. And what was Luke doing in her head anyway? Now was not
the time to be thinking about the one guy she should never
have let near her.
"Blue Two to Blue Leader." Gabe's voice filtered
through
the communications system. "He's on the move again. Going
toward Zone One. I repeat. He's headed to Zone One."
Jazz's body froze in readiness. He was coming her way.
If Blue Leader ordered the guys to rush the house, she had
to be on her game. She would protect them. She wouldn't
fail.
The blinds fluttered. Jazz forced her breathing into a
comfortable, familiar pattern. "Blue Leader, this is Blue
Four. I see movement."
A blond head peered out, face straight on front, the
area between nose and teeth in clear view.
"Target acquired. It's a good shot."
"Can you see the girl?"
"He's got a gun to her head."
Only a second passed before the expected order came
through.
"Take the shot, Blue Four."
"Ten-Four, Blue Leader."
Slowly, deliberately, Jazz exhaled and, between
heartbeats, squeezed the trigger.