THE COLONEL IGNORED HER CHEYTAC .408—UNTIL HE SPOTTED HER 3,400-METER SNIPER CREST He almost didn’t notice her—just another figure in fatigues, polishing a CheyTac .408 in the dim corner of the armory bay. Then his gaze snagged on a subdued insignia pinned just above her name tape: 3,400-METER CONFIRMED. EYES ONLY. Colonel Daniel Reyes halted mid-stride as if the floor had turned to ice. “Sergeant,” he said, tone tight with disbelief, “that distance is theoretical.” The hum of overhead lights su