She appeared to be taking the child down to the dock or the shoreline. He watched with interest for a moment. Then he lowered the binoculars and raised his weapon. A scope was not necessary, as she would pass within a few meters of his position in the trees. He lined up the tritium sites on her forehead, just above the left eye. Though Western women were not normally to his taste, Wulóng found this one beautiful, and beautiful women made more interesting targets—the alteration that tragedy wrought upon their features was always more dramatic. As she passed his position, he shifted his aim to the child. Wulóng pressed his lips together. He hated to begin out here. Even with the trees to mute the cries. The home’s interior offered much better cover. The sun had just begun to set. He had time. As the woman sat down by the shore of the river, he lowered his weapon. He bent down and flipped on the cell phone jammer.
