Harness anon-not named yet

Ed stealthily sneaked from shadow to shadow, cover to cover. Making sure he made not a single sound. He continued up slowly and cautiously, checking every bush and window for any sign of movement in the dim blue moonlight. It was dead quite for the so called war zone he was in. He hadn't even heard a single fire fight in the past 17 hours. But even so, he had to be careful not to step on any of the broken glass that was littered across the pavement like skittles on a carpet from the bombed our buildings that surrounded him. Better safe than sorry. But he glided over glistening glass shards like it was nothing. At this point it was the same as breathing or blinking, an automatic process. His eyes landed onto his prize. Instinctively tightening his grip around his rifle. Bingo.

Ed didn’t hesitate, he ducked into a narrow alleyway that was garnished with debris from the bullet hole ridden walls. He just wanted things back to normal. He quietly brought his rifle to his shoulder in a single clean motion. He took a deep breath, just like in training, held it for 4 seconds and exhaled a fine white mist.

Time to rock and roll.

>"hey mister, wacha doin?" - a small child's voice echoed up and down the seemingly never ending alley way.

The little boy's words hit Ed like a thousand electric volts, practically making him jump out of his boots. He whipped around quick as a hawk and running on pure instinct, firmly placed his cross hair right on the boy's glimmering orange glasses. His finger stopping a few millimeters short of the trigger.