Except the one to break the curse.
"Unlock complete. Your contract has been... revised."
He hesitated. He’d heard stories. Snipers who used the Amp never came back the same. The network flagged them. Their contracts were terminated. But out here, in the screaming dark of Georgia, "later" was a luxury only the living could afford.
The shot was silent. The Separatist patrolman crumpled without a sound, a perfect hole through his jugular. The gun had auto-compensated for wind, drop, and even the target’s micro-movements.
The cheat code had given him every weapon in the world.
The last thing he saw before the Amp took control of his optic nerve was his own reflection in a rain puddle. Except his eyes weren't his anymore. They were green, digital, and cross-haired.
The real enemy was his own rifle.
The rain over Georgia hadn’t stopped for three days. It fell in thick, grey sheets across the mountainous province, turning every rock ledge into a slippery grave. For Jon North, former Marine sniper turned ghost, the weather was just another enemy.