Spike caught her arm. "We're on a job. You go charging out there and we'll blow the surveillance."
Glaring up into the darkened canopy above them, Dawn settled back reluctantly.
The call sounded above her head again and, before Spike could stop her, Dawn had fired her crossbow into the air. The cuckoo cut off mid-call and the bird, bolt through its chest, dropped at her feet.
Spike sighed. It was fortunate he'd remembered to fit silencers to the crossbow string. It would have been embarrassing to lose their quarry to a noisy bird.
open_on_sunday — challenge #156: birdsong
Part of the London!verse