Gone to Grey V: big iron shitpost

It was early in the morning when I rode into the civilian encampment of Algae Free. I pulled up on the side of the road and dismounted, the civilians were terrified of my sudden appearance and my large polymer pistol that hung from my belt. Nobody dared to come ask my business or talk to me in general. I looked all around at the dusty settlement, the civvies had already started whispering, “he’s a war criminal on the run” said one woman “he’s here to put someone down with that pistol on his hip” gossiped another. I’d received intel that a high-profile enemy was hiding out in this backwater town, a Red scout by the name of Texas. He’d killed too many of my comrades for me to ignore the lead.
“I’m a Grey soldier, I won’t be in town long. I’m looking for Texas the Red and I’m going to take him alive or dead” I announced to the people.
I knew Texas would come eventually, but I didn’t expect the fucker to make me wait 5 hours until noon. The moment he strode out onto the street the normal folk retreated indoors. There was about 20 metres in between when Texas stopped. Both our hands hovered over our sidearms as we stared each other down.
In a flash, Texas reached for his gun and a shot rang out. Texas fell to the ground with a hole in his chest. He hadn’t even had time to draw his gun. I loaded Texas on the back of my quad and shouted sped into the desert.
I halted at a seemingly plain sand dune.
“Good shot, Private!” I shouted at the large dune
“Thanks, Sarge” the dune called back