The Mayor’s son was held captive by a serial killer in an abandoned slaughterhouse. I set up my sniper rifle, the crosshairs steady on the killer. But just as I was about to pull the trigger, my husband, Commander Ryder Hayes of the SWAT team, suddenly cut off my comms. “Hold your fire! Wait for Dr. Monroe to arrive for psychological negotiations!” It was just like in my past life. After the criminal psychologist rushed to the scene, she droned on for forty minutes with her long-winded psycho-babble. That only enraged the madman, and he cut off one of the hostage’s ears right there. I couldn’t stand it. I took the shot, killing the killer instantly. Dr. Monroe immediately threw up and fainted, her reputation as an “incompetent expert” irrevocably tarnished, leading to a complete mental breakdown. And my husband? He transferred me to an organ trafficking team, undercover. On the night of the operation, he deliberately called my burner phone. “Love showing off, don’t you? Let’s see how tough you are when you’re vivisected!” In my final moments, I saw him with Celeste Monroe, his arm around her, his face twisted in feigned grief. Reborn to this exact moment, the killer’s blade was still pressed against the hostage’s neck. I slowly lowered my sniper rifle, a cold sneer playing on my lips. This time, let’s see how you two manage to put on your show.
Over the comms, Celeste Monroe’s voice reached each of our ears. Her tone was soft, as if soothing a tantrum-throwing child, not a mentally unstable kidnapper holding a sharp blade. “I understand you’re in a lot of pain right now… a lot of anger. We’ve all heard your demands…” “But harming others won’t truly solve your problems. We can find a better way, together…” “Damn it!” In my earpiece, an assault team member, hidden on the flank, couldn’t help but snarl, his voice thick with suppressed rage. “What the hell is she talking about? Can’t she see that son of a bitch is about to slice him open?!” “Command, target’s emotional state is clearly deteriorating! Negotiations are ineffective! Requesting authorization to fire!” Another urgent voice cut in, it was Hawk, the spotter. Silence hung on the channel for a second, then Commander Ryder Hayes, my husband and the mission lead, spoke, his voice unnervingly calm. “Maintain patience. Dr. Monroe is establishing trust! No one moves without my direct order!” “Screw his trust! If we wait any longer, the hostage will be dead!” The team member’s voice was low, but the fury was unmistakable. Celeste’s voice resumed, still slow and deliberate. “Your current actions… perhaps they are a repetition of the trauma you experienced in childhood? We can talk about that…” “F**k!” Someone in the channel couldn’t hold back a curse. The kidnapper seemed enraged by her words, letting out a hoarse scream. “Shut up! What the hell are you? One more word, and I’ll kill him right now!” The killer’s blade pressed another fraction deeper into the Mayor’s son’s trembling neck, a thin line of blood snaking downwards. The young man let out a choked sob, his pupils dilated with extreme terror. The Mayor’s hoarse roar practically blew out our comms, followed by a chorus of frantic pleas for him to calm down. “Ryder Hayes! If my son loses a single hair, you can kiss that badge goodbye! Shoot! Save him!” After a brief silence, Ryder’s voice finally returned. “Layla, report target’s real-time dynamics.” Everyone’s earpiece went silent for a moment. In the past, I’d provide the calmest, most professional assessment, giving him the basis for his decisions and often shouldering the heaviest burden of responsibility. But now… Through my high-magnification scope, I watched the trembling young man. And I watched the madman, visibly growing more agitated with every word Celeste spoke. I spoke, my voice steady, without a hint of tremor. “My expertise is marksmanship, not psychoanalyzing a madman.” “That judgment, Commander, is yours to make.” The channel went dead silent. I could imagine Ryder Hayes’s expression right then. His usual calm facade would’ve instantly frozen, perhaps even a flicker of incredulous shock crossing his face. “Layla! Watch your tone! This is an active operation!” His voice was laced with reprimand, attempting to regain control. I responded instantly, my tone respectful, but my words hard as steel. “Yes, Commander. My finger will not touch the trigger until you give the order.” “After all, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for disrupting Dr. Monroe’s ‘trust-building process.’”
In my past life, my shot was clean, a headshot. The hostage was rescued, the Mayor was endlessly grateful, and I became a hero. That life-saving act earned me a promotion and commendations, but it also became the catalyst that pushed me into hell. Ryder couldn’t tolerate a wife who was uncontrollable, too competent, and might even overshadow him. Especially since I’d humiliated his idealized Celeste Monroe and caused her mental breakdown. So, he threw me into the dirtiest, most dangerous organ trafficking syndicate as an undercover agent. Then, during the critical take-down operation, he deliberately exposed me. I still remember that last look he gave me, full of hypocrisy and malice. A scream pulled me back to reality. It was Celeste. Her face was frantic. “You… you mustn’t get agitated! I’m only trying to help you, if you act like this, it’s hard for us to communicate…” “Help me?” The kidnapper let out a grating, insane laugh, and the tip of his knife slashed violently! “Ah!” A shrill, distorted scream echoed in the air. The next second, a bloodied finger rolled onto the ground. The Mayor’s son’s left pinky finger had been severed. He rolled his eyes, almost passing out. “You psycho! You absolute madman! How could you?” Celeste’s shriek echoed, laced with sobs and incredulous condemnation, her professional demeanor completely shattered. “I was trying to help you! Why didn’t you listen?” Her screaming undoubtedly fueled the fire. The kidnapper’s facial muscles twisted frantically, seemingly utterly enraged by her accusation. His blood-stained knife was raised again. This time, it was aimed at the hostage’s eyes. “Help me? Sending some bitch to lecture me? Are you messing with me? Believe me, I’ll gouge out his eyes right now!” Everyone’s blood seemed to freeze in that moment. However, the expected decisive order from Commander Ryder Hayes for a full assault or a shot didn’t come. “Celeste, fall back! Watch your safety!” His priority was protecting the woman whose incompetence was actively sabotaging the mission and endangering the hostage. The Mayor’s frantic roar almost shattered our eardrums. “Ryder Hayes! My son’s hand! Did you see it?! Shoot! Kill that madman now!” “Otherwise, I’ll relieve you of your command! Without mercy!” Ryder’s breathing grew heavy over the comms. “Celeste, immediately retreat to a safe distance!” He prioritized her safety again, then, as if forced, gritted his teeth and squeezed out an order. “Sniper team, prepare…” “Ryder!” Celeste’s tearful voice cut in, full of indignant protest, stubborn certainty, and a hint of calculated desperation. “They just don’t understand, this is classic trauma response!” “Violence will only escalate the tragedy! We need empathy, we need to build a bridge of trust!” “Enraging him now will only make him more extreme!” She seemed to conveniently forget whose ‘empathy’ had enraged him enough to make him lop off a finger just moments ago. “Everyone’s yelling at me… even you don’t trust my professional judgment anymore?” She even had the nerve to pout and whine at Ryder. Just then, Hawk’s urgent voice broke through. “Commander Ryder…” “Recon team just reported, the area around the perp, under his feet… might be booby-trapped with explosives!”
“Explosives?!” A collective gasp went through the channel, and Ryder Hayes’s breath hitched. Hawk’s voice was urgent and clear. “Wires extend from his feet, covering an unknown area! A direct assault is extremely risky!” The situation instantly escalated. This wasn’t just a hostage crisis anymore; it was a powder keg threatening to blow us all to smithereens. “Damn it…” A team member cursed under his breath, his voice heavy with helplessness. Celeste seemed terrified by the news. Her sobbing stopped abruptly, leaving only faint, startled whimpers. But the next second, her voice suddenly took on that infuriatingly professional tone again. “See…? See? I told you not to provoke him!” “He lacks security, he’s terrified, that’s why he resorts to such extreme measures for protection!” “We must first understand his inner turmoil, build trust…” “Screw his trust!” A furious, barely contained roar exploded over the comms – it was Captain Diaz, from the forward assault position. “I wanted to put a bullet in that son of a bitch moments ago! Now look! This damn shrink has dragged us all into a death trap!” “Shut up!” Ryder snapped, but a faint, undeniable tremor of panic was in his voice. He took a deep breath. “Celeste, continue to attempt communication, keep him calm!” “Bomb squad! Assess the situation! Assault teams, fall back and find cover!” His orders were chaotic, both telling Celeste to approach and ordering the teams to retreat, clearly rattled by the sudden turn of events. Celeste, receiving her directive, seemed to swell with self-importance, her voice rising several decibels. “You actually don’t want this, do you? We can help you…” “Just release the hostage…” The kidnapper’s facial muscles twitched, his eyes wildly scanning his surroundings. He pressed the knife harder against the hostage’s neck, beads of blood oozing out. The kidnapper’s wild laughter ceased, replaced by a furious rage, a man completely humiliated. “Understand me? Help me? That’s pure bullshit!” He spat, his emotions boiling over. “You’re all a bunch of hypocrites! Is there anything in your heads besides how to kill me?!” “Sending some bitch to drone on endlessly? Do you really think I’m an idiot?!” Celeste’s face paled from his yelling, and she instinctively took a half-step back. But then, as if to prove something, she forced herself forward, her voice shrill. “How can you speak like that! I am trying to save you! You, with your antisocial personality…” “To hell with your antisocial personality!” The kidnapper violently kicked a rusty metal frame nearby, creating a deafening clang. “Get away from me! Or I’ll slit his throat right now!”
He pressed down on his wrist, and the hostage let out a whimper. “Ah!” Celeste shrieked, terrified by the direct death threat, her composure completely gone. She whirled towards her comm, her voice shrill and piercing with tears, utterly devoid of any semblance of professionalism. “Ryder! Did you hear that? He cursed at me! He actually cursed at me like that! I was trying to help him!” “He’s just an irredeemable psycho! A barbaric, vulgar animal!” “Go arrest him! Teach him a lesson!” The channel went dead silent. Only her aggrieved, furious sobs and the kidnapper’s heavy breathing intertwined. Ryder’s voice immediately came back, full of bias and urgency. “Celeste, evacuate now! Assault Team One, cover Dr. Monroe’s retreat!” His order was clear and decisive, a stark contrast to his hesitation during the initial hostage crisis. Several assault team members quickly moved, forming a protective barrier. They escorted Celeste rapidly back behind cover. The kidnapper watched the scene, letting out a string of mocking, wild laughs. “Hahahaha… Aww, did the little princess get her feelings hurt? Her knight in shining armor is so upset!” “Damn it! You phony, self-righteous bastards are what I hate most!” His gaze returned to the almost-collapsed hostage, the madness in his eyes growing more intense. “Show’s over, little rich boy. Looks like your life isn’t worth as much as the expert’s whimpering.” He licked his chapped lips, the blood-stained knife tip slowly moving down, sliding from the Mayor’s son’s neck to his chest. The Mayor’s roar in the comm channel had turned into a guttural scream. Ryder’s voice was taut as a wire, desperately trying to suppress the chaos. “Bomb squad! Report! How much longer?!” “The wiring is complex, coverage area too large. At least ten minutes to locate the core detonator!” “Ten minutes!” Ryder’s voice was almost a shriek. Celeste was practically dragged back behind the makeshift command cover by the assault team members. Her hair was disheveled, her face still streaked with tears, her eyes filled with humiliation and resentment. “He dared… he dared to treat me like that!” Her voice trembled as she clutched Ryder’s arm. “Ryder! I can’t let this go! He has to pay!” Ryder’s brows were deeply furrowed. He watched the bomb squad’s progress while trying to soothe her. “Celeste, just calm down for a moment, it’s very dangerous here…” “No!” Celeste violently shook off his hand, a flicker of madness in her eyes. “I want to finish him myself!”
She suddenly pointed at me, where I was concealed at my sniper position. “Layla! Give me your sniper rifle!” Every team member in the channel held their breath for a moment. Ryder was stunned too. “Celeste, stop. This isn’t a time for games!” “I’m not playing games!” Celeste straightened her back, trying to project a professional, calm demeanor, but couldn’t hide the tremor and excitement in her voice. “Criminal psychology involves behavioral prediction!” “I’ve studied his micro-expressions and body language; I know what his next move will be! I’m confident I can hit him!” She looked at Ryder, her tone pleading. “Ryder, make her assist me!” “Layla’s the best sniper, right? Have her calculate wind speed, distance.” “Together, we can take him down before he hurts the hostage!” “Nonsense!” Over the comms, Captain Diaz couldn’t help but snarl. Ryder, however, fell silent. He looked at Celeste’s stubborn, tear-streaked face, his eyes filled with a blind indulgence and trust. He was actually considering it. In his mind, perhaps this was the only way to salvage Celeste’s pride and confidence? Or maybe he simply couldn’t refuse any of her demands? “Layla.” Ryder’s voice came through the channel, a tone of undeniable command. “You will assist Dr. Monroe in the shot. She will determine the timing, and you will provide data support.” “Ensure a clean shot, and rescue the hostage.” The sheer absurdity almost made me laugh out loud. Me? The three-time consecutive SWAT sniper champion, assisting a psychologist who probably couldn’t even hold a rifle steady? In my past life, he caused my brutal death. In this life, he wanted to drag everyone down to sacrifice for Celeste’s ego. “Commander, I refuse.” My voice was cold as ice. Ryder’s voice instantly rose, laced with anger. “Layla! That’s an order!” My words were steady, each one clear. “Dr. Monroe lacks sniper qualifications. Her emotional state is highly unstable. Allowing her to lead this shot would be tantamount to murder.” “Layla! You…!” Ryder was furious. Celeste’s shrill voice cut in, tearful and accusatory. “Ryder! Look at her! She’s just jealous of me!” “She’s afraid that if I succeed, she’ll look incompetent! She doesn’t want to save the Mayor’s son at all!” “I don’t have time to listen to your arguments.” I coldly cut her off, my scope never leaving the target. “Commander, if you insist on Dr. Monroe taking the shot, please inform all active personnel and the Mayor himself.” “This shot will be entirely Dr. Monroe’s responsibility, and all consequences will be jointly borne by you and her.” My words were like a bucket of ice water, instantly dousing Ryder’s impulsive idea. Jointly borne consequences. Did he dare? He didn’t. He knew better than anyone that Celeste couldn’t do it. He just wanted her to try; if she succeeded, it would be his credit. If she failed… he would likely push the blame onto me. Sure enough, Ryder fell into a dreadful silence. Celeste continued to whine incessantly. “Ryder! You promised me! Make her help me, I can do it…” “Enough!” Ryder finally roared, his voice filled with irritation and internal struggle. Just then, Hawk’s urgent voice broke through again. “Commander Ryder! The kidnapper has pulled out the detonator! He’s counting down: Ten! Nine! Eight…” The bomb squad’s alarmed shouts came simultaneously. “No! Too late!” “Seven! Six! Five!…” Everyone’s hearts were in their throats. “Four! Three!…” In that split second. “Bang!”
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