Aran winced in pain as he got up slowly and gingerly from his fall. He tore his legs apart on the rocks and could feel the warm sensation of blood dripping down his shins. He looked up to see Elle walking towards the house, hands on her head being followed by the two men. She was walking slowly, much slower than he would expect her to walk with a gun drawn on her.
“She’s stalling them,” he said out loud. He looked through the scope to get a better view of the scene and as he scanned the shoreline, he saw Ellis slowly following behind the second man, keeping low and out of sight. He knew he had to time his shot just right; he had to be precise with his aim. If he could take down the gunman, Ellis might be able to jump the second man during the chaos and it would be all over. He had one shot at it. If he missed, the men would hear the shots, his cover would be blown and Elle would be a captive, forcing them out him out into the open.