Terry was getting ready to move fast toward the road at the far end of the valley when he heard voices and the noise of people moving through brush. He knew the patrol was between him and the planned ambush site. It would be suicide to try to move through or around the patrol. Probably two people armed with automatic rifles. He had the advantage of concealment, fire cover and surprise. When you have the advantage, don’t give it up for no gain.

The two people will probably walk between me and the steep drop-off into the valley. When they get there, I’ll take them. At a time like this I would like to redo my choice of a shoulder weapon. This rifle has a five-round magazine. Fine for the slow, steady fire of a sniper, but not ideal for close in fire fights. Too late now. I’m not even carrying a handgun. In my ghillie suit, I’ll be hard to see until I shoot.

The noise of clothing rubbing against brush and scrub pines was growing steadily louder. He smelled cigarette smoke. Now, using his night-vision optics, he could see two green shapes moving along within 15 feet of the drop-off. One looked like a woman. Damn, I’ve never killed a woman. Maybe I can shoot the male and capture her. Time for thinking is over.

Terry shot the male, who went down hard. He called out, “Drop your weapon! You’re surrounded by police! You have no chance!”

The woman yelled, “Fuck you,” and emptied her magazine in a sweeping 180-degree arc. Terry fired one round that caught the woman in the chest. Two of the bullets from her weapon hit Terry in the groin and high on his right side. He fumbled with his radio and raised Peter who answered while firing to take out the leading vehicle. Terry heard the firing and said, “I’m hit hard! Near our cliff top hide. Killed two on patrol. One was a woman. I gave her too much slack. Take care of Bernadette. Kill the bastards!”

Both Peter and Bernadette were firing on full automatic. All the windshields were blown out and some of the tires on all the vehicles were flattened. Some of the terrorists had managed to get out of the RVs and were using them as cover to return fire. They hadn’t pinpointed the location of the attackers and their fire was ineffective. From their crossfire positions, Peter and Bernadette were steadily cutting down their opposition.

The lead RV was burning. The Ford pickup was partially hidden in the blowing smoke. Peter was sure the pickup was disabled. He knew Yuri and his huge companion were not going to stay around in a firefight. At the first chance they would disappear. Knowing when to break off a firefight is a useful art. Peter knew it was time to leave this one. He took advantage in a lull in the shooting and raced across the road to Bernadette’s position. “We’ll each fire one more magazine and then withdraw east to the valley wall and head back to our original position.”