Clint set his sights dead on the ambusher, who was waiting for his prey. He thought of giving the men warning, but decided against it. An ambusher was worse than a vicious jackal. He deserved no mercy. The ambusher was unaware that he, too, was a target. Clint’s breath stopped and he squeezed the trigger. The echo ricocheted through the clean air. The ambusher jumped once and never moved again. One man down. But how many more lurked in the shadows? No matter! Clint vowed to get them all.