Casey smiled in satisfaction, then searched for the gun platform.

The globe was exiting the woods and heading for the cars. It seemed damaged from the earlier shot, the repairs incomplete, its flight a series of odd path changes as if unable to find its direction.

A rapid scan of the surrounding woods told Casey he was clear for the next shot.

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He concentrated on the globe and the gun fired; the suppresser spewing a rough bark instead of the muffled thud he was prepared to hear.

The gun platform dropped to the ground and broke into several pieces.

The satisfaction of dealing with a deathblow lost in the knowledge he had blown out the baffles of the suppresser. Now he had a typical gun, loud and easily detectable.

Beyond the cars, the woman was walking away from the house.

He grinned. That was one actor that was going to make it out of this mess. A twig snapped, and the grin faltered.

Casey returned to the job at hand.