Silk and Secrets(135)
Then his eyes narrowed as he saw a wisp of dusty green move on the far side of the ravine. Khilburn was the only one in his party wearing that color. The Uzbek kept a sharp watch and was soon rewarded by another glimpse of green farther up the slope.
The yawer swore even more as he realized that the infidel was climbing to a better position. Because the other side of the gorge rose toward the plateau, the bastard could go higher than the Bokharans; if he wasn't stopped, he would secure an impregnable position. Hence Shahid must stop him, but he would have to cross to the far side of the ravine for the best shot.
Shahid crouched and dashed to another boulder, to the right and below him. Immediately a ball whizzed by, so close that it buzzed like a lethal hornet. Bare seconds later another bullet chipped stone by one of the other Bokharans.
Damnation, the ferengi's men were good shots. But they'd have to see a target before they could hit it, and as Shahid began gliding from boulder to boulder, he made very sure that no one saw him.
* * *
Climbing the blistering hillside had been slow work, but Juliet did a superb job of covering him, and Ross managed to reach his objective without attracting lethal attention. The ledge turned out to be a tilted shelf of stone that angled downward more steeply than he had realized from below. Flattening himself on his stomach, he crawled down the slanting surface, the coarse stone gritty under his fingers.
When he reached the edge, he raised his head cautiously and looked across the ravine. As he had hoped, he had a clear shot at three unsuspecting Bokharans.
His mouth tightened when he saw that none of the men in sight had the distinctive burly build of Shahid Mahmud. A pity; if Ross could have shot the officer, it might have stopped the fight without anyone else dying.
Very well, so be it. Ross did not enjoy killing, but if forced to choose between the lives of his friends and those of nameless strangers, he would do what was necessary.
He spent a moment planning his shots, forcing himself to think of the Bokharans as targets rather than men. Then he set the rifle to his shoulder, took careful aim, allowed for the effect of the wind, and squeezed the trigger.
The first ball sped deadly and true into the target's chest. Without pausing to watch the man crash to the ground, Ross reloaded and fired again. The second target was moving, trying to flee this unexpected new peril, and Ross hit only his shoulder, but it was enough to make the man shriek and drop his weapon as he spun about and clutched the wound. He wouldn't be doing any more serious shooting today.
By this time the third Bokharan had ducked out of Ross's view, but putting two of the enemy out of action greatly improved the odds for the ferengis. After reloading again, Ross inched his way a little farther down the slab, taking comfort in the fact that another ledge jutted out about twenty feet below him; even if he fell, he probably wouldn't break his neck.
Lifting his head, he tried to locate Shahid Mahmud, who must be somewhere on the far side of the gorge.
Ross never felt the bullet that hit him.
* * *
Juliet wanted to applaud when Ross's shots rang out over the ravine. When the second bullet provoked a yell, Ian gave an approving nod. "Sounds like Ross got one."
Fiercely Juliet said, "Two. With his marksmanship, his first shot would have killed someone outright."
She glanced up and saw a puff of black smoke drifting from his ledge, dissipating rapidly in the stiff wind. Catching a brief glimpse of his white-turbaned head, she winced at the precariousness of his position. A good thing he had a better head for heights than she did.
Another shot blasted out, rebounding harshly from the barren walls of the gorge. Juliet knew immediately that something was wrong, for the gun had the sound of a Bokharan weapon but had been fired from the ferengi side of the ravine.
In the next instant, right in front of her horrified eyes, her husband pitched over the edge of his ledge. At the same time, a hoarse victory shout echoed obscenely through the gorge.
Ross fell with eerie slowness, his descent broken by the tenacious shrubs that clung to the rocky cliff. One of the branches caught his turban and ripped it loose to wave in the wind like a banner, exposing the burnished gold of his hair.
His rifle fell separately, spinning in the sun before hitting somewhere below with a hard metallic clatter. Then he vanished from sight as he landed on a ledge below the one he had been shooting from.
"Ross!" Juliet screamed. Sheer blind, mindless terror possessed her so thoroughly that she did not even know that she had started running toward him until Ian grabbed her and dragged her to the ground.
"Jesus Christ, Juliet!" Ian swore. "If you're going after Ross, keep down—you can't help him if you get killed too. Give me the rifle—I'll try to cover you." He wrenched the weapon out of her nerveless fingers, then uncocked the pistol and pressed it into her hand. "Take this. You might need it."