Chapter 2

Maddox leaned closer.
“You deaf, Carter?”
The laughter got sharper.
A young soldier near the back looked away, embarrassed.
Senior Chief Row stood beside the range tower, watching Riley carefully.
He had seen soldiers fold under less.
He had seen anger ruin breathing.
He had seen humiliation turn good shooters into shaking hands.
But Riley did not shake.
Only her eyes changed.
For one second, pain passed through them.
Not because of Maddox.
Because in the echo of his insult, she heard another voice.
Captain Hail’s voice.
Calm.
Rough.
Patient.
“People will always talk before the shot, Riley. Let the bullet answer after.”
Riley blinked once.
The memory vanished.
She stepped toward the rifle.
Her voice was quiet.
“Thirteen men already missed.”
Maddox’s smile faded.
The range went still.
Someone muttered, “Damn.”
Maddox’s jaw tightened.
“That mouth is going to write checks your trigger finger can’t cash.”
Riley finally looked at him.
No anger.
No fear.
Just ice.
“I didn’t come here to talk.”
Maddox laughed again, but this time it sounded forced.
“You came here because command needed a headline. Put a woman on the line, pretend the program is changing.”
Riley’s fingers curled at her side.
Behind Maddox, a few soldiers shifted uncomfortably.
He didn’t stop.
“You think that rifle cares about feelings? You think the wind gives points for diversity?”
Riley slowly pulled back her sleeve.
A small compass tattoo sat on the inside of her wrist.
Simple black ink.
Four points.
North marked with a tiny line through it.
She looked at it for one second.
Then she looked back toward the distant target.
“Captain Hail taught me this shot.”
The firing line went dead silent.
May you like
Even the wind seemed to pause.
Read Part 3 to find out why Captain Hail’s name changed everything on that range.