There was silence for several long seconds as the younger soldier kept the rifle perfectly steady. The barrel swayed ever so slightly with the wind, forcing him to make tiny adjustments until the crosshair finally settled on Benjamin's upper chest. At this distance, the high-caliber round would punch straight through the body armor he was wearing.
Yet nothing happened.
The trigger was never pulled.
Benjamin remained standing in the open, a perfect target, completely unaware that death had been waiting for him all along.
"What are you doing, Tim?" the older man asked, lifting his head from the spotting scope. "Just shoot him already so we can move to the next location. Or if you can't do it..." He reached toward the rifle. "I'll take the shot myself."
"Well, you know, Brad..." Tim suddenly looked away from the scope and turned toward him. A faint smile appeared on his face. "The truth is..." He let out a quiet chuckle. "I'm here to protect him."
"What are you—"
