The Life Vista

Maya set the bolt on a blue cloth. No defensiveness, no performance—just the calm of a person who speaks precisely for a living.

“Sir, the engagement was recorded by mission command and verified by multiple observers. Documentation exists at a classification level above this facility.”

Lieutenant Colonel Blake, the aide, was already tapping a tablet. “Sir… her open record shows Sniper School top marks, advanced long-range courses, reconnaissance certifications I don’t recognize, attachments to the 75th Ranger Regiment, and—” He hesitated. “And entries redacted under special access.”

The general’s gaze slid to the Barrett. “Reyes, explain to me how anyone makes 3,200.”

“Understanding, patience, and environment,” she said. “Multiple wind calls along the flight path, air density and temperature gradients, barometric pressure, spin drift, Coriolis. Precise range. Stable position. And time. A lot of time.”

“How much time?”

“Four hours of prep for one trigger press.”

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