Predator Turnabout

"Sloane lined up on the one standing, centered the crosshairs on the things chest. No wind ruffling the trees down there, and the gauge showed that it was only blowing about six miles an hour here. He had figured that into his settings. It might be tough, it might have some kind of mesh armor that could blunt a bear's claw, maybe even turn a normal rifle or pistol round, but Sloane didn't think it would defeat the Chey-Tac .408, 419-grain round."

"He hoped."

"He evened his breathing. Became aware of his heartbeat, and listened to it slow. Timing and calmness were critical. At this
range, it was going to take just over a second-and-a-half for the bullet to get to the target and a twitch would result in a clean miss. The round would get there long before either the sound of the shot or the round smashing through the sound barrier did, but if they happened
to look and see the blast, they might be able to dodge the shot."

"One quick step would do it, and in a second and a half, a human
could cover six or seven meters; Lord knew what these things could manage. He wanted to shoot between heartbeats: Lubb-dupp. Lubb-dupp. Lub--"

"The world narrowed to the image on the scope ...Sloane didn't so much squeeze the trigger as stroke it...The weapon fired, the muzzle blast blew up fir needles and
dust, banged against his shoulder. Even prone, with the shock-absorber and the muzzle brake and headphone sound suppressors, it was a fearsome event, he felt it vibrate him right down to his
bones."

Big boom, big blowback. As soon as the gun went off, he counted aloud: "One thou-
sand one ... one thousand-" The hunter standing went down, all boneless, and Sloane knew the shot was good and that the thing was either dead or dying."pg.98 chpt.10