Devil's Due the flip side of the coin

Author’s note:       “Tree cancer”: Noun, Nickname given to rookie training snipers who fail to remember that grass does not grow on trees. Ever see a pile of grass on one side of a tree? No? That’s why I put it up.

Think ‘tumor’ but at the base of a tree. Just for future reference for non-snipers.

Also sorry to any people of faith angered in this post… shit got real.

“’And there were no survivors.’ I hope they write that in the paper for this one.” I remarked as I went over the plan in my head.

I have been stuck in these kinds of shitty situations before… except for the whole ‘talking animal’ part. I knew what to expect. Enemy numbers? Guess and expect more. Unit patterns and loadouts? Nothing beats observation. Terrain? My field. All that was left was to get some intel on their force’s numbers, possible reinforcements and if they have a camp nearby.

Normally I would have a satellite uplink showing me real time imagery of my operational zone. Sadly I didn’t have that luxury… Oh well, I love a challenge. I stalked one of the two-man griffon search teams. I knew if some go missing they would pull more forces to search for them. I continued to follow them as they flew amongst the trees. Two soldiers armed with light plate mail that had no real identifying qualities and spears. As they flew lazily the lack of discipline showed. They barely gave a cursory glance at the area with their eyes.

“Too easy…” I whispered to myself while still in pursuit.

The two soldiers that I followed stopped for a moment. I went prone away from the trees around me so I did not look like ‘tree cancer’. I listened closely but the wind started to kick up. A storm was coming in perfect cover to mask my shots.

As the first crack of thunder rang out I saw the two griffons shudder then land on to the ground.

‘Well that makes this even easier.’ Since they landed on the ground I was now open to CQC. I wondered how long this storm could last. I laid a mere 40 meters away from them. My rifle trained on the one walking behind the lead. As I looked through the scope the flash of lightning illumined my targets.

“Should have stayed home…” I fired the SVD while thunder cracked around me.

The round tore through the side of soldier’s helmet. It did nothing to stop the 7.62mm round. He fell to the ground motionless and quiet. The soldier in front of him did not seem to notice and continued walking.

I lined up the crosshairs over the second soldier still walking unaware of his coming doom. As the next flash of lightning came he began to turn around. His mouth in slow motion through my scope began to mouth the words. ‘You… still… here…?’

Just as he turned around fully to see his comrade dead, thunder broke the silence. As he opened his mouth for the last time to scream I fired a round. It left a gnarled wound as it passed through his neck. Blood spurted from the wound as he choked on his last words. I ran over to him like a hunter to inspect his kill.

As I made my way to him, his eyes followed me with fear and contempt. Once I reached him he tried to speak but nothing sounding like words could be heard. I said to him in a cold voice,

“Now stay quiet.” His eyes looked as if he was about to fade into the Nether.

I spoke once more knowing this was going to be the last thing he will ever hear, “I going have a talk with your boss lady.” I said while loading new rounds into my rifle.

As his eyes slowly lost any light of consciousness, I dragged him and his friend out from the clearing they landed in and dumped them under some shrubbery. I took off again into the forest staying off paths and out of clearings as I looked for more of the prey. My mind raced with thoughts of other kills as I slowly traversed the forest like the shadow of death its self.

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As I burst through the door to the roof I had my weapon drawn and pointed forward. The light of the sun was slowly consumed over by the coming sandstorm. I hear the slightest step as I was being charged by the sniper I designated as my prey.

He lunged at my chest with a soviet-era looking blade in his hand. I blocked with my MP7 using it to deflect the blade’s advance. He dislodged the weapon from my hands with a punch and I fell to the ground. I began to crawl away from him. Thoughts of death permeated my mind. He began to run his blade against the door as he approached speaking broken English.

“You die infidel.” He said as he grabbed my leg and pulled me back.

As he pulled I was dragged over a piece of rubble a bit jagged and the size of a small rock. He flipped me over on to my back as I slipped the rubble into my right hand. He stood over me with a ski mask. His eyes were a dark hazel color. He raised the knife to my throat. I said some words in hopes of turning the tides.

“Infidel this!” I screamed as I slammed the rock sized piece of rubble against his hand knocking the blade from it.

I surged up tackling him in the stomach knocking him back. As he was pushed back he repeatedly elbowed me in my back. I ignored the pain knowing even if I gave up him wouldn’t. We both slammed through the wooden door I had entered from. Shards of wood and splinters followed us both as we fell down the flight of stairs.

As we tumbled down to the eventual stop we went blow for blow; punches to the face, body and arms. We both hit the floor hard, I felt as if I broke a rib. He rose up first. I jumped up to my feet yelling.

“Come on bitch! I am going to send you to your bullshit god.”

I charged at him. The world was gone to me, lost in adrenaline and self-preservation. It was me or him as I rammed into him knocking him onto a table. With his back to the table he frantically grasped around for anything to use against me. He grabbed a bottle and swung at me. I blocked it with my left arm. The glass shattered as it hit me. Shards drove deep into my arm as I yelled in pain.

I punched him in the face once… twice… three times. I would have punched forever lost in the primal rage that has allowed our species to become dominant. But he found another bottle from the table and slammed it against my head. The pain I felt was immense. It felt like going ten rounds with Mike Tyson and then getting skull fucked by Ron Jeremy.

I dropped to the ground onto my knees as he got off the table and kicked me in the chest. He started running for the stairs leading back up to the roof. I knew if he made it I was a dead man. I ran after him up the stairs stepping over splintered wood. The sunlight that shown through the hole that used to be a door was briefly blocked out by his silhouette darting left.

As I again crossed the threshold of the doorway leading out onto the roof I made a sharp right. The now darker sky was accompanied by a harsh wind. I could see that he made it to his rifle so I rushed him with reckless abandon. He was only just picking the rifle up as he turned to see me charging.

He levels the rifle at me and fired. In my state, I could barely tell as I bashed the rifle from his hands with my fists. I grabbed him by the mask tearing it from his face. His young tan face showed an expression of horror as if I was a bloodthirsty hound of war.

And maybe at that moment… I was…

I then grabbed him by the collar and placed my free hand onto his shirt. I lifted him off the ground with my arms and slam him atop the railing of the roof. His face showed utter terror as he spoke again in broken English.

“Please no…” his voice cracked.

“Eat a dick.” I said plainly as I flipped him over the railing to his death.

I stared as he fell. His eyes looked back up at me locked in the moment. In his last moments he stared into my eyes and I his… all I could do was smile when he hit the ground.

I could still hear the sound of Scott’s battle with the insurgents. I turned to the SVD picking it up to check the mag. It had three rounds in it. I posted up where that former sniper was. I loaded the mag back into the gun in a single fluid motion. I scanned the ground level with its scope. Four targets varying distances.

“Where’s your god now!” I shouted as I fired the first shot.

It tore into the spine and chest cavity of the one farthest to the left. I dropped him dead in a pool of his own blood. I leveled the sight on the next one in the line. I fired another round. This one plastered the poor sod’s brains all over a wall. I searched for the last two seeing them now pinned by Scott’s counter assault.

He advanced forward inhumanly, showing no fear as he let loose with bursts from his M4. The two cowering behind the car seemed to be talking. Both faced each other. They looked like they could be brothers or father and son. I leveled the rifle at the one on the right.

The one on the right looked afraid and put his weapon down. The one on the left started to yell; probably at the sight of this family member’s surrender. I spoke out against the torrent of Scott’s gunfire.

“You’ve made your choice.” I said as I fired a round aimed at the one on the right’s head.

The round tore into his face leaving it looking as though it had been put through a meat grinder. Blood, bone and brain showered the one on the right. He fell backwards onto the ground. Covered in another man’s blood he looked at his hands dropping his weapon. Scott now made it around the car I followed him with the scope. He turned around the side of the car they had used as a tactical hiding spot.

He then let his weapon down. He held it with one arm pointing to the ground. He slowly walked towards the man that was covered in blood. I placed my hand on the earpiece to ask him what the hell he was doing. But his voice beat mine.

“Well, well, well looks like he had a change of heart.” his voice was cheery.

The man he spoke to just stayed on the ground fixated on his hands.

“What, are you deaf now?” he said as he grabbed the man by his blood stained shirt.

“Fuck it. I wanted this to be a bit spiritual but I guess I can send you to your god with these words:” Scott said as he raised his M4 to the man’s face.

The man looked up at Scott, his eyes were blank as if he were already dead.

“You made the wrong choice.”

A shot rang out echoing into the distance…

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I happened across another squad, this time with five in the group. The rain had been falling harshly for almost an hour. The light of their lanterns was what allowed me to see them through the storm. They looked to be gathering themselves up to head out to their camp. I knew this was my time to find their leader again.

I followed from a safe distance. I stalked them like a shadow follows you in the sun. I followed them to the point where I lost them in a mass of tents and other temporary structures. I had to wait for them to send out search teams for the two left behind. Then I will strike at their heart…

As I waited, my mind again fell into its old habits recounting tales best left buried.

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The echo of the shot was now being muffled by the sandstorm. It was not yet here in force but the sand started to sting like razors against any exposed flesh. Scott’s voice broke out from the howling wind;

“Fuck running on Zulu time! We do this shit my way!”

I respond back with, “Orders…”

“Orders? You know this went tits up right?” He replied back with his jovial asshole sarcasm.

“Yes mother fucker, but we still have a mission.” I yelled as I ran down the flight of stairs and out the front door of the building I shot from.

As I raced over to Scott I was greeted with the sight of him looting the corpse of the man he killed in cold blood. He turned and looked me right in the eyes.

“We are going to get him out. The mission stands even if we’re a man down.” Scott pulls two grenades from his vest out from under his robes. He handed them to me.

“You know what you’ve got to do, right?” He said as he turned to the car opening the door with the keys he found.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Save one for yourself. Use the other on the dead.” He stepped into the car and turned on the engine.

I ran over to the site off the radioman’s body. I knew we could not leave a trace like this. I knew orders where to leave nothing. So I pulled the pin holding it one… two… three… four… I tossed it on to the body. I ran back to the car Scott commandeered not looking back at the body as the sound was confirmation that the deed was done.

I hopped into the passenger’s seat and we set off towards John. I murmured to myself as we drove and the sand was kicking up more and more.

“I’m bringing you home.”