Cont.: fixed version. The sniper continues into the compound. |
I apologies to those who read the glitched version. It was a mistake that got sent in. This is the real version, as I wuold never dream of leaving a story off as its previous version. So sorry, but please enjoy this story. -puppet, The Sniper This place is getting thicker with plant life. I've even drawn my knife to slice through the thick. I should have brought something bigger. I'll make a note for command to issue machetes for swamp and habitation based missions when I get back. I rip through the branches and limbs of the swamp, and navigate throough to the target zone. I finally make it past the thickness and wander into a clearing, the water up to my torso. I feel like I'm in Vietnam as I have to carry my rifle above me head. This makes me uneasy, if someone were to ambush me, I'd have no time to take aim. And the things they do to captured snipers isn't very appealing. We are the ones who end wars, or start them, with a single well placed round. We are the ones who pick off their leaders like it's an everyday occurance. And we are the ones who drive their infantry insane when they take fire from an unknown direction. Every shot killing someone they've known for years in training, or survived together through hellish campaigns, just like that, and knowing that they are next no matter what they do. Who wouldn't go insane? And this is why they cut things off of us, or peel the skin off of our hands so to prevent us from ever grasping a rifle again. I don't plan on that ever happing to me. A third of the way through the clearing, I hear the hum of an engine. I look around for cover; there is none. I do what I had tried so hard not to do this entire mission, and dive down to the bottom of the swamp water. There I lay, still and holding my breath. In four more seconds a swamp boat passes above me. I can see the outline of a .50 calliber machine gun on the side of the vehicle. It's rounds able to literally saw me in half with just four or five rounds. I hate those things, even though they pack a punch, you could still die very slowly and painfully if it ever hit you. I don't take any chances and wait for it to be out of sight. Once ot is, I submerge a take a gasp for air. I'll resighn if I get a disease, but right know, I need to get to the target. I continue foward and enter more habitation. I'm starting to get pissed at this place, and cutting through this crap is no easy task. I move in deeper until I meet a concrete wall. After checking my GPS, I confirm that it's the place. Thank the "techies" back home for desighning this stuff to be water resistant. I grab hold of a branch and pull myself up into a nearby tree. The wall is high, but a none demesticated tree is higher. I reach the top and am greated by the fantastic sight of no barbed wire. I grab the edge of the wall on quickly and fliudly vualt to the other side. I hit the ground in a roll and duck behind some ammow crates. I peek out; the target zone is a small base used for storing smallarms and explosives. Training for non urban combat also takes place hear, and Yoviski should be the one in current management. What he is traing this troops for is unkown, but if he is removed the operation should either be cancled or postponed long enough for us to figure out what this is all about. I look lleft and right, and see no gaurds. To the left is a storage complex, and to the right is a barracks. For obvious resons, I choose the complex. I sprint into the building's open doors and see two men loading a truck with weapons. I duck right, behind a container, and view the seen. I figure that there has to be some address on the shipments they're loading, so I get into action. One man is around the back and the other is in the driver's seat. Him I shoot first, but the window is rolled up and the sound of the bullet puncturing it is quite adioble. I turn to aim at the other guy but he isn't there. I swear at myself as I get up to approach the truck with my gun raised. Nothing is in sight at the end of the truck, and I prepare to duck left and check out the flank. I do so, but am slammed in the face as a hand grabs the gun. The man is bigger, and pulls it away from me, throwing it aside as he tries to grab me. I leap back to aviod his grasp, and side kick his knee. He faulters and I lounge at him, but he must have spetznas training or something, because suddenly he drops on one knee and takes hold of my belt and my vest as he luanches me in the air. I crash down behind the bastard with a thud. He turns and tries to stomp on my face, but I roll under the truck and to the other side. I get up and draw my sidearm, targeting him. I fire two rounds and they explode against a contaner behind the man as he ducks behind the truck. I vault over the hood and get aim at him point blank. A bullet is in his shoulder before he tackles me to the ground. He climbs on top of me and beats my face with desperate streangth. Blow after blow after blow, my vision spots with black dots as he tries to beat me to death. After the tenth strike, I get my head together and grab my knife, swinging it from its sheath and across his neck in a single motion. He falls back and grabs his neck, now spewing blood. I get up and see the life begin to drain from him, spit and blood gushing from his mouth, and the look of horror on his face. I pick up my sidearm and shoot him in the chest to end it. This is why you don't miss. And I plan not to miss my target... |