They were in a nearly perfect line; it would be a difficult shot.
He moved the crosshairs into position on the man's head. Blowing air from his lungs, he gracefully slid his left arm down the shaft of the rifle, pulling the butt snugly into his cheek.
A whisper escaped his lips. "Away with such a fellow from the earth, for it is not fit that he should live."
Released by his gentle squeeze, the angel of death, encased in a jacket of lead, belched from the barrel in a horrific explosion.
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Note: I use The Word Count Tool to count my book excerpts.