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25

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Kendra decided to neutralise them.

She used her peripheral vision to scan the treeline on her right once more. There was a slope there that led up to a ridge, and so far as she could see, it was clear of civilians.

Perfect.

Kendra inhaled.

One, two, three.

She exhaled.

One, two, three.

She immediately diverted. She stepped off the walking track and on to the narrow path that led up the hill. She felt her leg muscles burn as she climbed, picking up the pace.

Kendra’s goal was to split the two operators up.

The one on her tail would no doubt respond by coming after her first. Predictable enough. And the second one would play catch-up. He’d have to circumnavigate the pond in order to reach her.

If Kendra timed this right, the delay would work in her favour.

She would use the first operator as bait to reel in the second.

Yes, she figured that she had a psychological advantage here. VAJA was made up of misogynistic men. They stubbornly believed that a woman’s place was in the home because she was capable of little else.

Kendra welcomed that bullshit philosophy.

She relished it because it offered an opening she could exploit.

In her heart of hearts, she knew that she was giving into emotion here, and the smart thing to do would be to disengage from any confrontation. Evade her pursuers and lose them amidst the terrain.

But right here, right now, she was sick of playing it safe, and this was her chance to seize the initiative. She wanted to exact revenge on behalf of the people who’d been murdered in the mansion. And, by God, she was going to make it happen.

When Kendra crested the top of the slope, she stepped off the path. She plunged into the cluster of trees. She chose the widest oak and took cover behind its trunk. Crouching, she unslung her backpack and set it on the grass.

It was a quiet alcove.

Bees were humming from flower to flower.

Shrubs were swaying in the wind.

Kendra waited. Her heart throbbed in her ears, and her body tensed, like a spring wound up to its tightest, ready to explode.

She heard the operator coming up the path.

His footfalls were heavy.

His breaths were laboured.

She peered around the tree. She saw that he had paused. Frustration was etched on his face, and with his hands on his hips, he pivoted this way and that way, and he eventually stepped off the path, trying to see where she had disappeared to.

Kendra clenched her jaw.

She dug her heels into the dirt, and she lunged forward.

The operator turned, his mouth agape, his arms starting to come up in a defensive posture.

Too late.

With her left arm, Kendra swept his defences aside, and with her right arm, she powered through. She caught him in the throat with the webbed skin between her thumb and forefinger. The blow was sharp and precise, and she felt the cartilage in his larynx shatter.

The man jerked forward as if he had just collided against a clothes line, gagging, wheezing, going bug-eyed.

Kendra grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt, cocked her hips to one side and threw him.

He fell into a bush, his arms and legs twitching and contorting inward, his stricken face already turning grey from a lack of oxygen. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Kendra averted her eyes and returned to her hiding place. She picked up her backpack and slung it across her shoulders. Drawing her pistol, she attached the suppressor.

Holding her gun at the low-ready, she waited.

The second operator soon appeared on the path, and the gurgling of his dying comrade lured him in. Stunned, he called out in Farsi and started reaching under his shirt for a weapon.

Kendra wasn’t about to let him get that far.

She raised her gun and acquired a sight picture, double-tapping.

The man’s head snapped back, and blood dotted the air, and his body went limp. He pitched forward into the bush, straddling his comrade, who convulsed one last time before falling quiet.

Blinking hard, Kendra put her weapon away. She decided against frisking the men. She had caused enough of a ruckus already, and a civilian would stumble upon the scene soon enough.

So she just turned away.

She started brisk-walking in the opposite direction.