A sniper was privy to all of that, to the flash in a person’s eyes as they stopped pretending that they were truly happy in any way at all.ĭeath, then, should be a release. As they let their dreams run flat and they stared at the life they had stumbled into. Let down their guard, their mask to the world, and let all their raw nerves and frustrated hopes sag. Watching someone when they thought they were alone. In those last moments, the moments watching a target moving through the reticular scope, the last moments of the target’s life reduced down to a series of circles and dashed lines, a sniper could feel as close as a whisper away. A great sniper could squeeze their trigger from a mile away, dispatch their target, and disappear before anyone could even dream of finding them. Always the preferred choice for making a big statement, and scattering as many bodies as possible.īut a sniper was still the best choice. They weren’t just a news clip or a sound bite online anymore. Assassination weapons came in every size and shape, thirty-one flavors of destruction.īoston had taught Americans that they weren’t invulnerable to IEDs. Neither were the Secret Service agents, the president’s white knights.Īssassinations didn’t have to be carried out with a gun. The office, the title, was not bullet proof. President Kennedy had been killed, and his brother after that. It was easy to slide into the crowd, to hide between the smiles and the waving hands.Īll it took was one concealed weapon, one fast draw. Everyone wanting to be acknowledged by the most powerful man on the planet. Hordes of people, rushing for a handshake, a look, a smile.

American Secret Service agents stood beside their president on a handshake line, but in the crush and swarming mass of bodies, they couldn’t get eyes on every single person. No matter how tight the security, how rehearsed the preparations, life always came with weaknesses. You make this all worthwhile.Īssassinations were, when it came right down to it, easy. Thank you for all that you do, within the pages and without.Īs always, to my readers. You hung with me through every page, period, and comma. Published in 2017 by Tal Bauer in the United States of America

No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Tal Bauer.Ĭover Art by Rocking Book Covers © Copyright 2017

Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.Īll rights reserved. All characters, places, and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact.

Secret service tal bauer