Race the Devil by Martin E Silenus

Author:Martin E Silenus [Silenus, Martin E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Martin E. Silenus
Published: 2018-11-29T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5: The Hunt

“We got some movement down there, see the big tree on the far slope, go left fifty yards and in toward us about the same!” whispers P-man.

I get my eye to the 10 power scope and slowly scan the area, nothing, I go back over it again slower. Sure as hell I catch a flicker of movement.

“Jesus, bud, look there, he’s damn near invisible” I mutter. Charlie is wearing some kind of camouflage and he looks like a patch of bad lawn.

“How come we can barely see the top of the bugger?” I whisper.

“He’s in just a slight depression in the ground and it looks like he’s headed towards those two small rocks,” replies P-man.

“We’ll let him get into position and comfy before we take him.” I mutter. “What is your range estimate and wind speed?”

“It’s close on 800 yards over there and wind is about 10 mph right to left, bullet is going to carry some because we are shooting down on him,” calculates P-man.

Shit, I think, a .308 caliber kills nicely out to 1000 yards if the target is a man standing up. The kill zone of a human is 14 X 22 inches; the size of an average mans chest and stomach area. But this shot we will maybe have 6 x 8 inches if we can see all of his head. There is no shot at all on his chest/stomach area. And at this distance we don’t have a hope in hell of a headshot on him! Lovely, just fucking lovely!

The Devil is doing cartwheels and cackling in glee!

It is 18:00 hours, Charlie is in position at the rocks and we watch and hear him commence firing on the firebase. P-man and I are watching carefully, noting the grass movement from the wind, how much the small tree branches are moving to see if the wind is steady.

“Jesus, Hud, Charlie isn’t using an AK47, he’s got a Russian Dragunov sniper rifle!” hisses P-man. “Likely why he is getting head shots, he’s got the 7.62x54R 7N1 sniper ammo, the shit is gold!”

“Aw Christ,” I moan. “This just gets better and better.”

My 173 gr. bullet will leave the rifle muzzle at 2550 ft/sec. At 800 yards it will drop 80 inches and the 10 mph wind will push it off by 65 inches. I hold over him about six feet and into the wind five feet. Two deep inhales and slow my breathing and wait for things to settle down and get very calm. THUMP, the rifle smacks my shoulder and I lose the sight picture.

“Short by two feet and left by three feet,” says P-man. “It’s more than 800 yards and the wind is stronger than we estimated. Go up another two feet and right three more feet. And don’t take all day as Charlie knows we’re here now!”

Oh Christ, we’re deep in the shit now. I wipe the sweat from my eyes and settle in again. Charlie has swung around and is scanning in our direction.

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