Roughdraft2

The patrol goes quietly save for the occasional dirty joke being shared between comrades that makes everyone giggle a little, including you. Morale is kept stable this way, and you appreciate it.

It’s nice to see people with a positive attitude even in these kinds of weird circumstances.

Everyone lines up near a corner of one of the buildings, the map previously indicating that we’re about to leave friendly controlled territory. In response, increased caution was taken to increase our safety.

As everyone readies to start the cover to cover movement method, one of them speaks up.

“So has anyone heard about the crack shot sniper on the enemy team?”

“Ah, I’ve heard about her. Supposedly she’s been guarding flanking’ routes and other key positions to prevent us from going up too far.” An older sounding guy replies with his back to us, seemingly disinterested.

“So what’s her MO? Does she stay in a building and move floor to floor? Or what?” You ask the first speaker, interested.

“Something like that, yeah. Although it’s a bit more complicated.” He takes out a map from his admin pouch and starts giving a visual example. “Supposedly she doesn’t need to move all that often because she’s been picking targets off from so far away. It’d be more reasonable to believe that she’s sniping from further into their territory. Giving her plenty of time to break away if she thinks her position is compromised.”

“So we should be fine so long as we stick to closed areas and stay away from open views.” You comment.

“Essentially, yes. Though the reason why we’re still standing here and not moving is because we have to go through said exposed area that’s been previously picked by her as a sniping lane.” He tucks the map back inside his pouch.

It was then you noticed the nervous movements of everyone else in the squad as they figure out the best way to traverse this area. The squad leader talking with his fireteam leaders in potential movement scenarios and the best way to go about it.

Everyone else not involved with the discussion has taken up defensive positions in case of an unlikely ambush. Their shuffling making noises as they try to relax from staying a position for too long.

You turn back to the guy you were speaking with before, “so is there any visual description of this sniper? Other than the obvious.”

The guy taps his face guard a few times in an expression of thought, “Mostly rumors, as I don’t think anyone has been able to get close enough to her without getting shot in the head, or her escaping. One thing is a fact, though, is that her rifle packs a punch.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The guy makes a finger gun gesture to his head as he explains, “I mean that it hurts like hell when you get shot by her, enough to knock you onto the ground. It almost makes you want to stay down since now you can get back up without a medic unless you’ve screamed the word.”

“Ouch. That bad, huh?” You wince from just imagining the situation.

“Mm-hmm, though most of the time you don’t get a second chance. Lady’s a crack shot, as most of her hits are on the head, you won’t even get a second chance until someone else drags you over and gets a medic on you. Even then, that just leads to more kills for her.”

“So what, if someone gets hit by her we leave the poor bastard?” You ask with mock incredulity, “That’s just mean.”

“We’ll try to get ‘em out, but worst comes to worst she’d have us in a trap. Be better to wait for the timer to run out on the wounded and let ‘em come to us.”

The conversation ends as the leaders dismiss their small meeting and rally the squad together.

The plan is to continue as discussed back in the base, start off with a cover to cover movement tactic, and if we get discovered, pop smoke and hold out in the buildings. Discretion is a priority so no one fires at anything unless approved by the fireteam leader or our cover gets blown. Simple enough.

You ready and watch as the first person up peeks his head around the corner before nodding an affirmative to us and sprinting to the nearest cover: an overturned, grey, bus. He turns around and waits for the next guy to nod before poking out and providing security. Once the next guy makes it to the bus, he takes over and the cycle repeats.

Eventually, it comes to your turn now. You stand at the corner, legs squared and ready as you wait for the guy on the other side to ready himself. Once he’s done, he gives you a thumbs up, in which you respond in kind before you press down and run.

You feel as if your right side is completely naked as you run. The feeling of vulnerability makes itself known as you silently hope to god that there isn’t a sniper out there and waiting for the perfect player to pick off the game.

The fear of being shot at gives you an adrenaline boost, and you find yourself breathing slightly heavily as you make it to the other side with no incident. Catching your breath, it takes but a second before you realize that while you’ve made it through the sprint…

You still have to cover the next guy.

Blowing out a puff of air to release the proverbial steam, you kneel down at the edge of the bus and ready the rifle. Giving an affirmative to the next guy that you’re ready.

He gives a nod, and readies himself to sprint.

When you see hum take the first steps, you poke out around the bus and sweep the street.

The left side has a row of the concrete buildings you're used to seeing. Their wooden windows closed and a small wall marking the perimeter.

The Right side has a similar view, minus the perimeter wall, the building windows of that row are closed as well.

Lastly, across towards the other end of the road shows no signs of activity. The Building windows however, are open.

You keep focus on the building on the end of the street. Watching for any signs of activity in any of the floors. The hasty stomping of the guy’s boots growing louder and louder very quickly. So far, everything seems alright, and he might make it.

You continue staring at the building, checking for any potential signs of a sniper. A laser, a flashlight, anything that could resemble the possibility that a sniper was holing up in that building.

Something like that reflective object the sun is bouncing off of on the top floor. That could be the reflection of the scope a sniper might be using!

...Waitaminute.

Mother-!

You hear the runner’s boots make it past you and into the cover of the bus.

Ffffucker...?

...Huh. Nothing happened.

You quickly head back into cover, figuring that you’d rather not prove yourself wrong and end up as the first casualty of the patrol. However you’re still disturbed by the thought of what you saw in the building.

Was it even a reflection of a sniper scope? Maybe it was just your eyes playing a trick on you? Perhaps it was just a random reflective surface that happened to be on the right angle for the sun to touch and make itself known to whoever was sharp enough to see the reflection onto their location.

...Right?

There’s always a possibility.

...Maybe you should tell someone? But you don’t want to make everyone tense about something that might not even be there, and if they make adjustments, the sniper -if there even is one- might notice.

(Votes go here)

-You wait for the squad to move out of view of the building before pointing your concerns to the fireteam leader.

“Hey, Torres.” You bring him aside, “Back there at the bus, did you notice anything at the building at the far end of the road?”

“Uhh...Nope. Didn’t see anything.”

“Not even a light reflection?”

“Don’t think so...Why?”

“If that’s the case then it’s probably just my imagination...But I noticed a white light near the top floor. Suspect it might’ve been a sniper but it didn’t fire at us even after all of us passed.”
“Maybe it was recon?”

You cross your arms in thought, “Maybe. But if this is the sniper we’re thinking about I wonder if she’s dumb enough to position herself to the point the sun would reflect off of her scope. I figured it was just a coincidence but there’s always the possibility.”

“Right. We’ll keep an eye out.” He starts moving back to his position in the formation.

“I’d advise to be mindful of how we watch our surroundings. If there is a sniper it might not be a good idea to tip her off that we know. Otherwise she might fire at us.”

“Right, right.” He waves you off and resumes the patrol.

You briefly wonder if he even took your testimony to account. A former Army might not take kindly to a civilian telling them stuff he most likely already knows.

Hopefully he’s a good leader and doesn’t let his pride and ego take control of his actions. He hasn’t done anything to prove it so you can only be optimistic about it. But still; you’re troubled by the potential alternative.

As you continue walking with the patrol, you think of hypothetical scenarios and escape routes in the event of the worst case situation.

Falling back into buildings would be the forefront if the squad was ambushed here in the alleys. Popping smoke and bolting to the nearest compound would be the next if we were caught in the open like before. Taking mind of potential cover areas as you pass by them. Roadblocks, corners, junkyard cars, etc.

You assume everyone else is doing the same thing as you. Since most of them are retired military save for you and two other guys. As you stare at the two men in front of you, you notice how whenever it’s applicable, their heads slowly move back and forth; scanning the surroundings.

Good. Nice to know that you aren’t the only one.

It’s been a while, twenty minutes according to your phone, and there hasn’t been an engagement, or any other kind of event since the bus movement.

The realization causes you to straighten up and search the surroundings more carefully than usual. Such a long gap in between events can only mean that one will happen soon. That’s how it’s supposed to go; right?

Again, you notice that you aren’t the only one to show increased awareness, as anyone you take a closer look at will show that they’re becoming more tense as of late. Perhaps even going as far to say that they’re growing paranoid of their surroundings.

You’re starting to feel it too. The tightening of the chest as the adrenaline starts pumping in. The subdued shaking of the body as it yearns for a means to release its newfound energy. You tighten your grip on your rifle, your footsteps are more silent; filled with purpose. All for the one feeling that fuels your body at the moment.

Anticipation.

You take a deep breath, controlling this sensation. You are no stranger to it, you’ve dealt with these feelings before. All this is, is the feeling of going up against someone different than you and the previous ones you fought.

Everyone around you is no longer restfully walking. Their backs arched, knees bent, rifles at low ready as they all await for the upcoming event that is bound to happen soon.

The only question is: What is it?

You don’t have time to fully dwell upon it, as everyone has increased their pace to finish up this patrol as quickly as possible. A quick question to a another player tells you that the squadron is very close to enemy controlled territory. Another reason why we’re all so tense.

We dart into another alleyway after quickly crossing a road. The open lines of sight making everyone feel vulnerable to whatever was potentially watching out of them.

You take solace in the feeling of seclusion the walls give as they tower over you. But you also feel like certain parts of your body are naked as you pass by murder holes that give sight to your sides, legs, and face.

You’d feel much better if you were in these buildings. Rather than out of them; but no one else shares your desire as they all push on.

It wasn’t until the patrol reaches an intersection between alleyways did something finally happen.

Everyone is hurriedly moving between areas as quick as they could; eager to escape from the borders of territories. They pass the intersection with nary a glance and a wave of their rifles in the pointed direction before quickly moving on.

When it becomes your time to pass, you execute the maneuver the best you can. You take your first quick step onto the intersection, pivoting on the foot to position yourself to check the left. Rifle pointed in the direction at low ready.
All you see is a wall of concrete and closed wooden windows of the building at the end. Your view bracketed by the walls of the adjacent buildings. Not a sign of movement anywhere.

You pivot on your right foot just as quickly. Not willing to linger on the same spot for too long. A complete one eighty to the opposite direction you were previously facing. Whereas you used to face the left side of the intersection you are now facing the right side.

The only noticeable feature in the short time you take is a similar concrete building positioned with a column of windows overlooking the alleyway. Your rifle follows your gaze slightly behind as you quickly scan the windows. Ending at an open one at the top floor.

The sun in your eyes causes you to cover them with a hand in surprise.  Looking down to re-orient yourself; you see your shadow mimicking your movements in front of you.

...Wait.

The sun is behind you.

You look back up, forcing your eyes to look past the glare.

Then that shouldn’t be the sun...

You’re just barely able to see the tinge of purple inside the window.

...Oh.

“...Hohshit!” You hiss, and quickly pivot on your left foot.

Your ears are rattled by the sound of a gunshot nearby. Flinching away from the noise, a quick glance shows the trail of a projectile that impacted the dirt of where you once were.

You get into the safety of the other side of the alleyway. Back against the corner, rifle pushed up against the chest, you take a quick glance to the right and see the guys who made it through before you stop and stare at you.

“Contact. Top floor, window.” You jab a finger at the offending building. “Almost got me.”

She almost got you…