Protecting His Pregnant Lover - Leslie North Page 0,64
Vale attached the scope to his sniper rifle after taking up position on the second floor of a building directly across the street from All That Sparkles. The situation was going to challenge the calm persona he’d mastered as a sharpshooter on his SEAL team. He reminded himself that it was a job like any other. He didn’t want to screw it up, and he sure as hell didn’t want to tell his new boss the store he was watching through his scope belonged to his former fiancée. He’d get replaced by another sharpshooter ASAP—and no way was he letting someone else take his spot on this mission. Carolyn might have tossed him out of her life, but he’d do whatever he could to protect hers.
He evaluated his line of sight into the store. If the target showed himself in the front window, he’d be easy pickings. Zach used the scope, hoping to catch sight of the man. Nothing.
He didn’t know if Carolyn was in there. It was likely, all his experience with her told him that. She prided herself on working hard. That was unlikely to have changed in the nearly two years since she’d ended their engagement.
He could barely think about that night. He’d had no warning. She’d simply told him it was over because she could no longer take it that he chose his work as a SEAL over her. Never much of a talker, he’d been knocked speechless by her declaration. He’d thought what they had was special, the kind of love that could weather any storm. How wrong he’d been still stunned him. He should have known that type of love didn’t truly exist.
To have Carolyn disrespect his job in the Navy—when he was convinced it had saved him from a life of crime—had sliced through him, and he’d been powerless to argue with her rejection. He’d thought she knew him well enough to understand his position as a sharpshooter was like breathing to him. How could she not have seen that giving him an ultimatum about his job was like asking him for his lungs?
“Vale, do you have a good position?” The sharp voice of his commanding officer came through his earpiece.
“Roger that. Front window is in range. I can take him if he shows.”
“Stand by. Let the negotiator do his job, but don’t let your guard down.”
As if Zach would in any situation, let alone when the woman he’d once loved was likely feet from an armed robber. He pushed away the memory of Carolyn and their broken engagement. He had a job to do. He refocused, digging deep for the calm that was necessary to pull the trigger. Chatter on the radio told him negotiations weren’t going well. The robber wouldn’t speak to the police negotiator on the phone, the standard way of communicating in these situations.
Zach didn’t want to think about how desperate a man had to be to refuse a simple conversation, even if it was to tell the negotiator to go to hell. He wished he had the visual and auditory feed his commander did. Then he could be sure where Carolyn was. But all he had were his own eyes trained on a shiny glass window. He’d chosen his position because the glare was minimal, but it would still be a factor if it came to eliminating the target.
“In the window,” Zach heard on the radio, but he’d already made visual contact through his scope. The robber’s shoulder came into view: gray T-shirt, nothing remarkable, but he seemed to be dragging something. Zach increased the pressure on the trigger, waiting for more of the target to show. He almost had a clean shot when a blond woman appeared in front of the man. His hands gripped her arms, pressing into her flesh and holding her in place in front of him.
She clutched a kid to her chest, her hand wrapped around his head. The boy was young, barely more than a baby, and wore red ear protection. Zach mentally cursed the robber for hiding behind a woman and child.
Although he already knew what he would see, Zach focused the scope on the woman’s face to confirm her identity. Carolyn. Her brown eyes were wide in fear, and there was no sign of the dimples he’d always loved so much. He released his trigger finger as his breath caught in his chest. He’d never attempt the shot.
“Human shield,” he said into his mic. “No clear target.”
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