The Zen Gene Read Free

well placed to cover him and Torgesen plus the far end of the compound that he could not see from his position. It was ideal kill-zone coverage from every direction.
    He shifted his position and lay prone on the ground behind his weapon. Once in this position he was vulnerable and dependent on Torgesen and the others for protection. From this point on his focus would be on the target alone.
    The military issue .50 Caliber Barrett sniper rifle had a hi-tech scope tweaked specifically for conditions of desert warfare. The scope was a technical marvel; so advanced it came with standing orders to destroy it rather than have it fall into enemy hands. It came equipped with an explosive charge set within the instrument’s electronics and optics for that purpose. It also had a satellite up-link so the Sergeant in the sky could detonate the charge should the operator become incapacitated.
    He used the weapon many times in practice and in theatre and that explosive charge, a few centimeters from his right eye, was always present in his thoughts when he looked through the hole. If the charge went off, at the very least, it would blind him or, more likely, it would blow his head off. Another perk of being an Army Specialist, he thought. As unpleasant as the idea of it blowing up in his face he would rather die that way than fall into Taliban hands and be tortured to death, or worse, tortured and made to live.
    The headache gained strength and colour in the last few minutes and he was having trouble staying focused on the task. He hoped Tor was keeping an eye out for the RPG because he did not need the additional complication of having the Taliban stumble upon their position. Technically he no longer needed a spotter there wasn’t an operational requirement of calling out wind speed or range information. The scope, with its satellite up-link, calculated all of this for him and updated the information in fractions of a second but, with all that, he was glad to have Tor covering his ass, especially tonight. He tucked the stock tight to his cheek enjoying the familiarity of the act but when he closed his left eye and tried to sight through the scope the vision in his right eye blurred. There was no wind but it felt like a puff of cold air hit his eyeball and made his eye tear up. He felt frustrated waiting precious seconds for his vision to clear. He resisted the urge to rub his eye knowing from experience that could make it worse.
    He couldn’t wait much longer the target was going to finish and disappear back inside the shack. The sooner he got his shot the sooner he would be back at base where he could grab more pain killers and conk out for a few hours. The intense ache behind his eyes had become more than a distraction; at this point it was becoming an operational concern.
    At this range the man was an easy shot for him and when his vision finally cleared the target view was perfect; he could even see the heat signature from his urine stream. His vision was clear but when he tried to focus his mind and concentrate he discovered he had another problem; he could not push past the increasing pain inside his skull. He tried to relax and let muscle memory take over hoping it would carry him to the point where he would regain enough control to pull the trigger. He carefully slipped his index finger onto the trigger; the pull tension was set light and it only took a tiny amount of pressure to fire the weapon. It was ultra-sensitive and he was always careful when he made first contact.
    The pain eased a little and things were beginning to come together, he was perfectly sighted on the target with the reticle centered on the back of his hooded head. As he started to put pressure on the trigger he blinked once very slowly and then his eyelid closed and would not open.
    He was confused and trying to make sense of what was happening to him when a ripping pulse of searing agony gripped his skull and turned everything inside his head white hot. The