Creative Writing: The Bank Sniper
After what seemed like an eternity, the ground flattened when he reached the top. A dozen more steps gave the thief a view of the fence. He silently cursed since all he saw was corn. Turning to his right, the criminal eased his way down the fence line. The dark blob ahead solidified into the barn when it was closer. At last he had eyes on the house, which was completely dark. A small sigh left his lips when he sat on a log and began to wait.
Trey's head nodded from dozing off. From long practice, the bank robber resisted the urge to jerk his head up as he awoke. The heat and the almost hypnotic sound of the insects had put him under. The ex-soldier grinned, remembering watching his father nod off during deer season. The head would go down, down, down, …show more content…
then jerk up as the eyes snapped open. How his men kept their eyes open on an ambush or guard duty after a rough day varied, although the majority involved some degree of discomfort. His own duties helped keep himself awake. Checking his watch, he saw the indiscretion had only been a few minutes.
Movement to his front wiped the grin from his face.
Somebody was moving down from the knoll. The figure wiggled backward in the prone position, rising to hands and knees and then further below the peak of the knoll, rose to their feet. Trey was concerned that he hadn't detected the watcher considering the length o time he had been here. The spotter slung a rifle, pack and another bundle, then took a long look around the area.
Sniper 1, as the bank robber designated the intruder, was over confident to have slung his rifle. It almost seemed he carried all his worldly goods with him. Did that mean he didn't trust the other group members, or was he on his own? Sniper 1 walked away at an easy pace, keeping the high ground between himself and the farmhouse area. The direction he traveled was vaguely north, toward the rear of the farm, but angled toward the east.
The ex-soldier watched to his right as the figure disappeared from sight among the bushes and small trees. Aware Sniper1 might be watching his back trail from cover, Trey wiggled backward much as his prey had done. The bank robber moved from one piece of concealment to the next, traveling parallel to the watcher's line of
march.
Visibility was only a few yards in places, between the tall grasses and the beginnings of a first growth forest. It would be easy for someone to lose their sense of direction on a cloudy day and especially at night with nothing to use as landmarks. Trey wove around smallish White Pines, Red Pines and what his father called pitch pines. Lone oaks, maples and black cherry trees stood out from the small thickets of crabapples. Belts of edible berry bushes were joined by the gathering of inedible choke cherry shrubs.
Trey had only one further glimpse of Sniper 1, ahead and to his left, the pack and bundle disappearing around a pine tree slightly bigger than a man. Arriving at an old fence line, ahead lay the open ground of an old hay field. If the watcher was checking his back trail, this would be the place. After getting seated, well back from the open ground, the tracker spent fifteen minutes observing the far side with his binoculars.
Erring on the side of caution, Trey boxed the field, making left turns out of sight of the opening. He saw few signs of any life in the area transitioning from field to woodland. A bird fluttered away at his approach, grasshoppers sprung into the air when the grass was disturbed and once, a rabbit bounced away.
With no more sighting of Sniper 1, the felon had to make an assumption. So far travel had been in a straight line, so a camp of some sort lay ahead. He proceeded slowly, pausing to listen hard while breathing deeply through his nose to detect wood smoke. Like his cellmate, he began to notice the sun sinking toward the horizon.
The ground started to slope down and the number, as well as size of trees increased. The bank robber guessed this was the valley to the north of the farm. He'd traveled at least two miles and would have to give up the search shortly in order to return to the knoll by dark. Rather than smelling smoke from a cooking fire or hearing voices, it was the closing of a car door that told him the search was over.
Trey ghosted from tree to tree until he could see the source of the sound across the valley. A double handful of people stood around the back of a big, flatbed truck using it as a table for their meal. Some sort of metal shield protected the radiator and engine. The makeshift armor was almost as dented and rusty as the rest of the truck. Three pickups and a car were also gathered around the end of a dirt trail through the trees.
Even though he could hear voices, none of the words were clear. The speakers looked reasonably well dressed and didn't seem in any hurry to clean their plates. The details Trey found interesting were that the vehicles hadn't been turned around and only one rifle was in evidence among the diners. That weapon belonged to Sniper 1. He lowered the binoculars and drifted back in the direction of the farm.
The criminal thought while making the trek back. He didn't have time to hail the house, besides, he didn't know if there was another watcher, although he doubted it. The high ground would have to be denied to the attackers. Anyone posted there would have to go, then he could move up to the fence.
Hopefully the Swede would be alert and Joker would turn up.
The ex-soldier's path was close to his previous passing. The light was fading fast, and the reason he didn't see the deer until one snorted just yards away. Trey automatically shouldered the rifle, pointing it at the white tails fleeing into the dusk. He let out a shaky breath, feeling like his heart was ready to leap out of his chest. The situation would have been funny during hunting season. The felon pushed on, picking up his pace to burn up the adrenaline.
Breaking into the open, the bank robber adjusted his course toward the dark smudge that was the knoll. Reaching his target, he choose a spot on the high ground, with his back to the road and the farm off to his left. Rifle slung, halfway up the side his boots kicked a toe hold into the turf. Once the suppressed handgun was out of its holster and nothing to do but wait, he relaxed, listening for his adversaries.
After his break, the thief found a spot with a better view and two trees a few yards apart large enough to provide cover. He hadn't foreseen the bad guys having men outside the wire, although he heard them coming along the fence. He could imagine what Trey would say about their noise discipline. Joker remained motionless after pulling the S&W from its holster. The whispers heard weren't intelligible, however he thought there were three separate voices.
Two men hove into sight paying attention to the area inside the fence. The view the thief admired was exactly what the attackers were also looking for. The interlopers turned and walked directly toward the small man, each taking a stand behind a tree. The third man seemed to have moved to another unknown position. Neither individual was at ease being in the woods at night and fidgeted nervously.
Deciding to get it over with and deal with the third man if he came running, Joker raised his handgun. With the extra length of the suppressor, the weapon almost touched the target to the left. The lighter background to the front of the figure highlighted the body. The "snap' when the semi-auto went off wouldn't sound like gunfire to the uninitiated. The clothing scraping against the rough bark of the tree as its owner sank to the ground was almost as loud as the shot.
"Quit screwing around, Pauli is already pissed at us" the raider to the right whispered angrily. The thief paused, then took two quick steps toward the second raider, firing twice as soon as he could be certain of the target. Joker almost fired a third time, but the raider collapsed limply to the forest floor. Grinning evilly the small man backed to his original spot to wait for Pauli.
Trey recognized the barely audible, suppressed, gunshots for what they were. He felt better now that the odds were beginning to even out between the two sides. A voice from the bottom of the knoll startled him, asking "What was that?".
"A reason for Pauli to put his boot up your friends' asses Greg. Now shut up and keep your eyes open. Don't come up top until the shooting starts" a second voice paused between each word of the final order. The bank robber was amazed at how the attackers were going all out against what, he himself, would consider a soft target. It's just a farmhouse.
Sniper 1 was heard setting into position up top, while his backup wandered aimlessly at the bottom. Greg strayed farther toward the side of the rise with each trip. Trey shifted onto his side, resting the handgun on his thigh and waited for Greg's return. The foul up returned smoking a cigarette, keeping it cupped in one hand to contain the glow. When he stopped for another drag, the felon squeezed the trigger.
Sometimes a shooter can just tell if a shot is good. Ignoring his first target, Trey scrambled up the slope at an angle, hoping the sniper would be looking where the shot can from. His view of the top was the raider aiming the rifle's crude open sights on the side of the telescopic sight. He dropped flat with a hand over his eyes a second before the magnum rifle fired.
The flash of the burning powder lit up the night for a spit second. The sniper realized that in his panic, he'd destroyed his night vision. All he could see was an after image of the fireball. Terrified of dying from a bullet he wouldn't see coming, a death he was willing to inflict on unsuspecting people. he turned and ran. His third step was into thin air, rolling down the hillock barely hanging onto his firearm.
Trey rose to his knees, shooting and missing when the ground disappeared from under his target. He charged after his blinded target, sliding feet first down the grassy incline. Reaching the bottom, the ex-soldier fired twice at the fleeing figure, seeing him fall, then rise to become lost in the darkness, chased by more 9mm rounds.
Joker jumped when the rifled boomed from the other side of the farm. The first was joined by another gun firing at the front of the house from across the road. Moving up to the fence where he had a view of a fireball from the barrel of the sporting rifle, the thief shot back. Switching the M-16 to full auto, he dumped a magazine at the shooter. Cursing because he didn't have another mag ready to go, he fumbled in a pouch.
Trey's head nodded from dozing off. From long practice, the bank robber resisted the urge to jerk his head up as he awoke. The heat and the almost hypnotic sound of the insects had put him under. The ex-soldier grinned, remembering watching his father nod off during deer season. The head would go down, down, down, …show more content…
then jerk up as the eyes snapped open. How his men kept their eyes open on an ambush or guard duty after a rough day varied, although the majority involved some degree of discomfort. His own duties helped keep himself awake. Checking his watch, he saw the indiscretion had only been a few minutes.
Movement to his front wiped the grin from his face.
Somebody was moving down from the knoll. The figure wiggled backward in the prone position, rising to hands and knees and then further below the peak of the knoll, rose to their feet. Trey was concerned that he hadn't detected the watcher considering the length o time he had been here. The spotter slung a rifle, pack and another bundle, then took a long look around the area.
Sniper 1, as the bank robber designated the intruder, was over confident to have slung his rifle. It almost seemed he carried all his worldly goods with him. Did that mean he didn't trust the other group members, or was he on his own? Sniper 1 walked away at an easy pace, keeping the high ground between himself and the farmhouse area. The direction he traveled was vaguely north, toward the rear of the farm, but angled toward the east.
The ex-soldier watched to his right as the figure disappeared from sight among the bushes and small trees. Aware Sniper1 might be watching his back trail from cover, Trey wiggled backward much as his prey had done. The bank robber moved from one piece of concealment to the next, traveling parallel to the watcher's line of
march.
Visibility was only a few yards in places, between the tall grasses and the beginnings of a first growth forest. It would be easy for someone to lose their sense of direction on a cloudy day and especially at night with nothing to use as landmarks. Trey wove around smallish White Pines, Red Pines and what his father called pitch pines. Lone oaks, maples and black cherry trees stood out from the small thickets of crabapples. Belts of edible berry bushes were joined by the gathering of inedible choke cherry shrubs.
Trey had only one further glimpse of Sniper 1, ahead and to his left, the pack and bundle disappearing around a pine tree slightly bigger than a man. Arriving at an old fence line, ahead lay the open ground of an old hay field. If the watcher was checking his back trail, this would be the place. After getting seated, well back from the open ground, the tracker spent fifteen minutes observing the far side with his binoculars.
Erring on the side of caution, Trey boxed the field, making left turns out of sight of the opening. He saw few signs of any life in the area transitioning from field to woodland. A bird fluttered away at his approach, grasshoppers sprung into the air when the grass was disturbed and once, a rabbit bounced away.
With no more sighting of Sniper 1, the felon had to make an assumption. So far travel had been in a straight line, so a camp of some sort lay ahead. He proceeded slowly, pausing to listen hard while breathing deeply through his nose to detect wood smoke. Like his cellmate, he began to notice the sun sinking toward the horizon.
The ground started to slope down and the number, as well as size of trees increased. The bank robber guessed this was the valley to the north of the farm. He'd traveled at least two miles and would have to give up the search shortly in order to return to the knoll by dark. Rather than smelling smoke from a cooking fire or hearing voices, it was the closing of a car door that told him the search was over.
Trey ghosted from tree to tree until he could see the source of the sound across the valley. A double handful of people stood around the back of a big, flatbed truck using it as a table for their meal. Some sort of metal shield protected the radiator and engine. The makeshift armor was almost as dented and rusty as the rest of the truck. Three pickups and a car were also gathered around the end of a dirt trail through the trees.
Even though he could hear voices, none of the words were clear. The speakers looked reasonably well dressed and didn't seem in any hurry to clean their plates. The details Trey found interesting were that the vehicles hadn't been turned around and only one rifle was in evidence among the diners. That weapon belonged to Sniper 1. He lowered the binoculars and drifted back in the direction of the farm.
The criminal thought while making the trek back. He didn't have time to hail the house, besides, he didn't know if there was another watcher, although he doubted it. The high ground would have to be denied to the attackers. Anyone posted there would have to go, then he could move up to the fence.
Hopefully the Swede would be alert and Joker would turn up.
The ex-soldier's path was close to his previous passing. The light was fading fast, and the reason he didn't see the deer until one snorted just yards away. Trey automatically shouldered the rifle, pointing it at the white tails fleeing into the dusk. He let out a shaky breath, feeling like his heart was ready to leap out of his chest. The situation would have been funny during hunting season. The felon pushed on, picking up his pace to burn up the adrenaline.
Breaking into the open, the bank robber adjusted his course toward the dark smudge that was the knoll. Reaching his target, he choose a spot on the high ground, with his back to the road and the farm off to his left. Rifle slung, halfway up the side his boots kicked a toe hold into the turf. Once the suppressed handgun was out of its holster and nothing to do but wait, he relaxed, listening for his adversaries.
After his break, the thief found a spot with a better view and two trees a few yards apart large enough to provide cover. He hadn't foreseen the bad guys having men outside the wire, although he heard them coming along the fence. He could imagine what Trey would say about their noise discipline. Joker remained motionless after pulling the S&W from its holster. The whispers heard weren't intelligible, however he thought there were three separate voices.
Two men hove into sight paying attention to the area inside the fence. The view the thief admired was exactly what the attackers were also looking for. The interlopers turned and walked directly toward the small man, each taking a stand behind a tree. The third man seemed to have moved to another unknown position. Neither individual was at ease being in the woods at night and fidgeted nervously.
Deciding to get it over with and deal with the third man if he came running, Joker raised his handgun. With the extra length of the suppressor, the weapon almost touched the target to the left. The lighter background to the front of the figure highlighted the body. The "snap' when the semi-auto went off wouldn't sound like gunfire to the uninitiated. The clothing scraping against the rough bark of the tree as its owner sank to the ground was almost as loud as the shot.
"Quit screwing around, Pauli is already pissed at us" the raider to the right whispered angrily. The thief paused, then took two quick steps toward the second raider, firing twice as soon as he could be certain of the target. Joker almost fired a third time, but the raider collapsed limply to the forest floor. Grinning evilly the small man backed to his original spot to wait for Pauli.
Trey recognized the barely audible, suppressed, gunshots for what they were. He felt better now that the odds were beginning to even out between the two sides. A voice from the bottom of the knoll startled him, asking "What was that?".
"A reason for Pauli to put his boot up your friends' asses Greg. Now shut up and keep your eyes open. Don't come up top until the shooting starts" a second voice paused between each word of the final order. The bank robber was amazed at how the attackers were going all out against what, he himself, would consider a soft target. It's just a farmhouse.
Sniper 1 was heard setting into position up top, while his backup wandered aimlessly at the bottom. Greg strayed farther toward the side of the rise with each trip. Trey shifted onto his side, resting the handgun on his thigh and waited for Greg's return. The foul up returned smoking a cigarette, keeping it cupped in one hand to contain the glow. When he stopped for another drag, the felon squeezed the trigger.
Sometimes a shooter can just tell if a shot is good. Ignoring his first target, Trey scrambled up the slope at an angle, hoping the sniper would be looking where the shot can from. His view of the top was the raider aiming the rifle's crude open sights on the side of the telescopic sight. He dropped flat with a hand over his eyes a second before the magnum rifle fired.
The flash of the burning powder lit up the night for a spit second. The sniper realized that in his panic, he'd destroyed his night vision. All he could see was an after image of the fireball. Terrified of dying from a bullet he wouldn't see coming, a death he was willing to inflict on unsuspecting people. he turned and ran. His third step was into thin air, rolling down the hillock barely hanging onto his firearm.
Trey rose to his knees, shooting and missing when the ground disappeared from under his target. He charged after his blinded target, sliding feet first down the grassy incline. Reaching the bottom, the ex-soldier fired twice at the fleeing figure, seeing him fall, then rise to become lost in the darkness, chased by more 9mm rounds.
Joker jumped when the rifled boomed from the other side of the farm. The first was joined by another gun firing at the front of the house from across the road. Moving up to the fence where he had a view of a fireball from the barrel of the sporting rifle, the thief shot back. Switching the M-16 to full auto, he dumped a magazine at the shooter. Cursing because he didn't have another mag ready to go, he fumbled in a pouch.