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Good, she thought. At least now I know I wasn’t making it up.

She turned and cast her light onto the next boot print. Then the next. With each one, she felt a renewed confidence that she was doing the right thing, and the fear that had held her back faded away into the night. After several minutes climbing the hill, her flashlight’s narrow beam reflected back at her from half a dozen tiny specks on the ground. She crept closer and knelt over one, examining the spots of light until she recognized what they were.

“Chief, I’ve got six or seven spent ammunition casings about twenty yards up from location three.”

“Tiffany…”

She pressed the radio to her chest to muffle his reply when she heard the scrape of a boot heel against a rock only a few yards above her head. She kept the light at her feet but gradually brought it up in short, sweeping arcs to search for the source. Things always seemed much closer than they actually were at night, but she would have wagered anything she was less than ten yards from whatever had made the noise.

Tiffany heard the muffled chief’s voice shouting against her chest, but she held down the push-to-talk to silence him and lifted the beam of light higher. She reached what looked like a narrow ledge protected by a boulder on one side and paused. Holding the light there, she scrunched up her face while trying to figure out what seemed off about that spot. Then she heard the scraping sound again, and the pieces fell into place in her mind.

She clicked off her light and dropped to the ground. Bringing the radio to her mouth, she keyed the microphone switch and whispered, “Chief, I see camouflage netting.”

* * *

After calming herself, Punky rose from between the solar panels and moved across the trail toward the ridge’s east slope. She closed her eyes and pictured where she had seen the very first muzzle flashes as she flew over the island in Colt’s Carbon Cub. Looking over her shoulder at the antenna, she referenced the flashing red lights and figured they had come from less than halfway down the slope.

Her night vision goggles gave her an advantage, but she knew the enemy would have camouflaged their location. It would be difficult, but not impossible, so she took her time scanning the area she thought the most likely place to establish a hide site. Its size would depend on how many were in the party, but she imagined the footprint would be small.

“No!”

Punky dropped to the ground when she heard the woman’s scream. It sounded close, but she couldn’t see anything in the green-hued scenery that pointed at its origin. She ached with exhaustion and her limbs felt heavy, but the sudden shot of adrenaline fueled the athlete inside who wouldn’t let her quit. Deep in her subconscious, she recalled back-to-back water polo matches and the overwhelming fatigue she had battled through to claim victory and knew this was no different. Ten years might have elapsed, but she was still the same girl who knew what it took to win.

It pays to be a winner, she thought.

There wasn’t room for anything short of complete victory. In water polo. In school. In life. It was a lesson her father had imbued in her at a young age, and a lesson that propelled her up off the dirt and over the lip of the ridge. Bringing her pistol up in front of her, she carefully picked her way down the hillside, her head slowly panning left and right as she searched for her target.

After several minutes, she saw a beam of light arcing up from the bottom of the hill, and she froze. She lowered herself to the ground, suddenly wishing she had worn something other than a red hoodie. Even one of her black concert hoodies would have been more appropriate as she slinked through the night in search of her uncle’s killer.

Keeping an eye on the light, she continued creeping down the slope and winced when her boot scraped against a rock. She froze as the flashlight’s beam focused on a spot less than ten yards below her, then suddenly clicked off. Punky studied the ground that had been illuminated by the light, puzzling over the growing unease in the pit of her stomach. It looked like a narrow ledge, sheltered by a large boulder on one end, but the earth seemed to flutter in the breeze in an unnatural way.

What the hell is that?

She took another step, then froze. Through her night vision goggles, she saw several specks of light glowing from where the earth fluttered. She tilted her head up and looked at the same spot underneath her goggles, but she saw nothing. Tilting her head back down, the specks of light returned.

Then it dawned on her.

Camouflage netting.

* * *