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A Room With A View
by KulJaden

The sky hung heavy and grey, though occasionally the sun peeked through the heavy overcast and shed it's weak light on the wet buildings beneath it. Water ran slowly down the gutters, meandering it's way down the slight incline and collecting in the craters and piles of rubble.

The town was deserted and well behind the fighting lines and that was probably why the men were not as alert as they could have been. That and the weather. Whatever it was it had them walking with their heads down against the rain, rifles at only half readiness - some even had them slung over their shoulders as if they were marching. They were completely uninterested in their patrol and this was because they thought they were completely safe.

I would change all that.

From my prone position on the third floor balcony of a wrecked building that had once been a hotel, I had a clear view down the street to the approaching soldiers. Their formation was not as loose as it should be as they tramped down the wide street, approaching my ambush point. I watched them closely through my scope, trying to figure out who their leader was, who was in charge. Their damp and untidy uniforms gave nothing away but I wasn't looking for rank insignia anyway, no, I was looking for the telltale spoken or gestured command that would give him away, I watched their lips intensely.

But now they were reaching my chosen kill zone and I still had no idea who was in charge, so I chose a man in the second line of the ragged group and settled the rifle into the crook of my shoulder, easing the crosshairs over the man's bedraggled frame. I let my finger slip softly onto the trigger and then, as the doomed man passed the last ragged door I squeezed the trigger with a gentleness that I no longer felt.

The single shot was loud to my quiet-attuned ears but the soldiers never heard it coming. I saw the bullet tear through the man's throat an instant after and watched through the exquisite detail of the scope as he was thrown roughly to the ground by the force of the shot. It was another second before the men around him dived to the walls, seeking the comforting cover of the doorways that should have been there. But I had chosen my spot to kill for a reason. The walls there were unbroken stone for ten meters in each direction, an accident of chance which I intended to utilise to my full advantage for as long as possible. The men realised they were caught and most threw themselves to the floor by the walls, scrambling for what refuge they could find behind the rubble and detritus that lay there. Others tried to run back up the street down which they had just walked, maybe seeking cover, maybe bottling out and hoping to live to another day. Whichever it was they were inviting targets and their hesitation had been enough for me to reload the rifle, it's bolt moving smoothly along it's well greased action. I fired again, the bullet tearing through one running man's back and spraying blood across the cobbles in front of him. Still, amazingly, he tried to stagger the last few feet into cover. I was about to believe I had somehow missed, imagining the blood I had seen or perhaps misinterpreting it, when he keeled over onto his face and made no further movement.

My first target was still struggling on the ground, his hand had gone to his neck and were trying to staunch the blood that was spurting messily from the broken mess that was all that was left of his throat. I paid him no attention, turning my sights on the bases of the walls, searching for more prey. My eye was drawn by the movement of one man as he tried to worm his way down the street, his grey uniform turning mud brown as he worked his way towards the nearest doorway. I focused my attention on him, dropped the cross over his helmeted forehead and watched detachedly as he jerked once, at my shot's impact, then lay still.

None of the others moved as I watched them. Silently, the seconds extending into minutes as no movement came. Then slowly, carefully a man was crouching slowly to his feet. His weapon was held out ready, but I saw the barrel was clogged with mud and debris.

I let him take a few careful steps down the street before putting a shot into his stomach followed quickly by another to his chest as he lay writhing on the ground.

That was enough for one day though, they would soon work out where my fire was coming from and the two men that had fled the kill zone were nowhere to be seen. I gently withdrew from the rusting steel balcony and, moving slowly and silently, made my way from the empty room with its peeling wall paper and rain soaked bed.

I had perhaps four minutes to reach my second snipe point before they realised I was no longer watching over them, and then the game would continue…