The road here had been cut though a small hill, and the embankment was about 8 feet high. The heels on his cowboy boots helped give him traction in the loose dirt as he scrambled up the bank. On top, there were clumps of chaparral, and Monty threw himself down behind one a little to the left side of the ranch road facing him. He slid the rifle though long grass, parting the grass enough to see clearly through the rifle's scope. He was frantic in his movements now, because he saw trees along the ranch road illuminated now by the headlights of the pickup truck - it had finished the winding section and was now turning onto the straight stretch leading to the county highway.
Monty hastily turned the knurled ring on the back of the scope to set the magnification at 9X, the highest setting. Then he made the adjustment on the other end of the scope to set the range at its lowest distance setting. Quickly, he swung the gun to the left to center it on the back of the stop sign on the other side of the highway. Used to sighting through the scope at distances more like 200 yards than 50 feet, he was startled to see that the sign filled the scope and looked to be right in front of his face. He could see clearly every thread on the bolts holding the sign to its post. Then he swung the gun toward the oncoming truck, thankful that his elevated position kept the headlights from shining in his eyes.
The moon had dropped low in the western sky now, so that it shone more directly into the cab of the truck and lit up its two passengers from the neck down. Through the powerful scope, Monty could see Laura pressed against the passenger's door, staying as far away from the driver as possible. When he shifted the gun to the right, the scope was centered on Laura's kidnapper. Monty had shot dozens of wild pigs by moonlight, and had shot other varmints when he felt they needed to be weeded out. But he had never shot a human being, nor had he ever considered that he might one day be considering whether or not to do so. Then he remembered how roughly the man had been handling Laura, and how he was planning to take her to Mexico.
Monty was sure of his shooting ability, but he was wondering whether or not the truck's driver, used to city driving, would automatically stop at the stop sign, or at least, do a rolling stop. Or since he seemed unused to a stick shift, perhaps he would come to a stop to gear down before he turned onto the main road. While waiting to see what might happen, Monty centered the scope's crosshairs on the right shoulder of the truck's driver and held it there.