Weekend Special Short Tales; California 2.1 Chapter 7

 

7.

“Master Gunner, I …” Stark heard the other and retort back in anger.

“Back down, Sean. I am no longer your Master Gunner.” Stark had moved onto the base of the tree trunk and covered his area. “I am now the bastard that will take you down.”

“Why is that, Master Gunner? You taught us to work on the right side. You gave us your best advice.”

“Sean, I liked you during the training. You did not talk so much.” Stark replied.

“Sir, I can see the new entrants. I counted six of them. That’s the local team. They are snipers like us.” Sean voiced cracked back. “They are moving in on you at one o’clock.”

That last observation revealed that Sean was on higher ground and that could mean a thick tree. Stark moved his scope to the trees. He hesitated and leveled it down to the ground. The next fight will be on the approaching four shooters. If they are trained, they will know the art of stealth. He has never been to the hotel owned by Michael as he declined to be there.

“I will be your shooter outside. You trained them to take over my post next year.” Master Gunner had that agreement with Michael after he had several training sessions at the States. It was easy for Michael to get in with his jet and they had trained at the plains to the mountains. Master Gunner had to admit that Michael was a good shooter but he lacked the stealth training. Michael had told him that he valued snipers.

“They can take down the target from afar. I have many categories of killers but the snipers are my real assets. I have with me a team of snipers and you can lead them.”

Master Gunner had declined. He had offered his skills to be the sniper to take out the targets that Michael wanted dead. He notches up to twelve kills; all top targets like the army and the occasional politicians. He had heard of the other shooter in the area and they never met until Xavier called him in.

Sean was too great a target to refuse.

Andre Stefan was from the Spetsnaz unit trained. He was with the other named Mikhail Tolov. They were armed with the SV-98 Russian bolt action sniper rifle with the 7.62 cartridges on a ten rounds magazine. The rifle's unique feature held the suppressor with an effective range of over a thousand yards. Both snipers had on the horizontal striped undershirt ‘telnyashka’ shirt which was the pride of the Russian army recruits.

“Andre, you take the low ground. I will go up the branches.” Mikhail took to the branches to get a better view of the jungle. He muttered at the fumes from the cocaine lab. It was stinging on his throat. Andre took to the nearby tree trunk and watched the trees.

“The Russians are in place.” The Ghanaian whispered to the Cuban. The former was a former President’s Guard and carried the M4 Carbine.

“Amare, we will move to the east, and take that position. We can do the crossfire from there.” The Cuban named Alvaro told the darker counterpart. He was armed with the Winchester Magnum M24 sniper rifle. It was the military version of the Remington Model 700 rifle. The rifle held the fifth rounds in the magazine with an effective range of over a thousand six hundred yards. Both of them were dressed in combat fatigue.

The Colombians were the most adventurous. They went fore into the jungle holding the 7.62mm Galil Sniper with bipod to level the rifle and took the forward position. It was a heavy rifle with the twenty-five rounds box magazine. They did not communicate verbally but lay down twenty feet apart.

“Master Gunner, can we call a truce?” Sean asked but there was no reply. He then edged his frame on the high branch. He recalled his knowledge on the snipers coming at him as he had seen them in action. The Russians will find a spot but the others were unknowing. He knew the Cubans had the heavier rifle and may settle down too but the other two. They were unpredictable ones. He looked at the trees with his scope to look for any abnormality. It was different when shooting the suspecting target walking to the car or sipping the cup of coffee at the window. These were his counterparts and the battle between snipers was the tip of excellence.

“Sean, your ten o’clock. Give me one click to get into aim.” Sean was surprised to hear Master Gunner but he moved his aim in that direction. He saw then the two Cubans. They are moving to the trees there. It was an open field. He did the count on the click. Both rifles shot at the same time and the Cubans were down.

“Move your arse, Sean. You are sighted.”

Sean heard the warning and slide down the tree trunk. He went down on his chest hugging the ground when the reciprocal shots impacted the tree branches. He crawled on his elbows and knees to the left and let the undergrowth covered him.

“Thanks,” Sean replied to Master Gunner while he took on his new position. The shooting had stopped and the snipers had moved. They had ducked to avoid the exposure to the others.

Sean sat with his back to the tree trunk and then let his ears do the listening. He can hear the low humming of the jungle with his nostril stinging from the fumes. He felt his body alleviating and that was the effect of the cocaine. It was in the air.

Sean heard the shot and then silence. It was their training. You don’t retaliate with shots because you are shot at. You wait for the correct exposure and then you shoot.

The subsequent shot came. It was a continuous shooting and that means it was either a desperate move or to drive the enemy out. He listened hard and tried to figure out what was the caliber. It sounded like an M4 carbine.

Was it the Master Gunner? The senior was with that rifle.