Sean saw it too late: his hiking partner had forgotten to douse the ashes of his campfire.

“Mike, wait!” he cried. But it was too late.

The high-caliber round put Mike down clean; he toppled face-first into the ashes, his blood quenching the embers that his fire bucket had not.

Half a mile away, atop a ranger watch tower, the bear regarded the scene through the lens of his 20x Leupold. His spotter nodded, and the bear ejected his 7.62mm brass into one outstretched paw. He then tucked it behind the band of his campaign hat.

“Only you,” he growled. “Only you.”

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The screen blinked, and Jenny accepted the incoming transmission.

“Low-priority target in your sector,” a voice said. “Level 2 compensation, plus bonuses if applicable.”

“Ah, what the hell,” said Jenny. A Level 2 was barely worth getting up for, but with a nice bonus it’d pay for a generous Thai take-out dinner. Granted, that was more time on the treadmill or another pricey Fem-A-Slim injection, but she was hungry.

Jenny opened her bedroom closet arms locker. “The Denel?” she muttered. “Nah, for a Level 2, let’s stick with the Accuracy.” She contemplated putting on a robe, but the transmission had been audio only. A t-shirt was more than enough.

The sniper rifle was well-oiled, and Jenny’s practiced hands assembled and loaded it quickly. Her window slid open at the touch of a button, with the gun mounting easily to the lug on the sill. Within a few moments, she had the target in sight–a portly man making a poor attempt to make himself inconspicuous.

“Boom,” said Jenny. “Easy money.”