Ally's Revenge (Part 1 complete, Part 2 in progress)

Chapter 13

*Picture: Google Image search,  Travis Fimmel as Damien*

Chapter 13

Damien

This is exactly why I brought my truck. I go into my 'Survival Kit' and pull out the binoculars and my baby, the M40A5, or modified Remington 700, with sound suppressor; my favorite sniper rifle. Since it is in a locked compartment, it is already loaded and ready to use. I know Ally is waiting for my signal and since I have no idea how long it will take me to get on the roof, I wait until I am in the attic before I hit the lock button on my remote to make the alarm beep.

This attic actually should be called a third story since the floor is completely finished and the walls are plastered over. There are windows on all four sides of the house. I see the window she told me to use; this particular window faces the driveway and the street so the river is behind me. Once I am out the window, I see there are decorative awnings and a small fake balcony with a rail around it. I jump up onto the rail and pull myself up onto the very top of the house. I slither on my belly until I am in position, at the top peek of the roof, looking out over the back yard and further out into the river. By my count, Ally is about to stand up and give her position away, so I get ready....

I didn't have to wait long, with my binoculars I see the bullet vapor trail coming from a house directly across the river. Third shot... There is a L shaped dock, a speed boat up on a lift hanging in a little boat house, and a huge yard, maybe a half an acre, with an amazing house as the backdrop. I see a laser rangefinder on a tripod but I don't see the person firing the shots.

If my count is correct, and if he is using any kind of standard issue sniper rifle, he should only have two more rounds in the magazine, unless he has my same exact rifle that holds a ten round magazine. He, or maybe even she, is about 800 yards away or just under a half a mile. I have made shots at this distance in my sleep.

I jump back down off the awning and go back through the window. Using the window that faces the water, I find a chair to set my barrel against. My adrenaline is running too high to guarantee my hand will be steady so I use the chair back as a tripod. It would be much easier to make this shot from the roof, or even opening the window and leaning my rifle on the windowsill ledge would help but I'm sure the shooter would notice. Instead, I make due with sitting in the middle of the hot attic, using a two hundred year old looking chair as a perch, ready to make my one hundred and forty-fourth kill. I have to calculate the distance, wind, temperature, and humidity, and since I am shooting over a fast moving body of water, the wind will be my biggest obstacle. I only have one shot and no room for mistakes.

Suddenly I see the grass in the middle of the yard lift up and move over about six inches. It was pure luck that I happen to be looking at that exact area when the movement occurred. This time we are dealing with a semi-professional, or at least someone who has a lot of money and resources. A seasoned sniper would never have changed positions between shots. I have lain in the same spot for days at a time, being eaten alive by ants and other insects, and urinating on myself so that I would not give away my location. Once I even had a rattlesnake decide to burrow down into my boot and even then I didn't move a muscle.

You may have all the toys but you don't have the knowledge to go with the toys.

I thank God one more time for the lack of knowledge this shooter has because if we were dealing with anyone who actually knew what they were doing, Ally would have been hit on the first shot. I know that if I see him, he is likely to see me any moment now. I pay even closer attention to the area that just moved and I can barely make out the outline of the suit he is wearing. It is a really close match to the grass he is laying in, but the shade of the ghillie suit is slightly darker than the grass.

I would prefer a head shot to be sure I take care of this person once and for all, but with the bullets I'm using, it won't matter where I shot him, as long as I hit the upper portion of the body the target will be eliminated. I see another slight movement again and I can tell he is about to take another shot. Before he has the chance, I squeeze the trigger and watch through my scope as the bullet hits the body. A small spray of blood comes up from the grass suit and I see the rifle fall from his hands. Still looking through my scope, I watch for any other movement to make sure he is dead and to make sure there is not another shooter somewhere that I did not see. I lower my gun and look through my binoculars for a larger view of the surrounding area. I watch the yard, house, and the surrounding houses for about ten minutes, and then I start a sweep of the river to make sure there is not anyone on the bank or a boat that might be with the man I just killed. After about thirty minutes of this, I decide the man must have been alone.

I would feel bad about taking a human life but he sealed his fate when he took that first shot.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"What happened, what did you see?" Ally has not moved far from where I left her. She had decided to simply stand up and step one foot off to the right, which hid her body behind the brick windowsill and wall. I knew I was risking her life but in the back of my mind, I also knew if the shooter had been as professional as he thought he was, she would have been dead before we realized what happened.

"There was a man across the river with a sniper rifle."

"A sniper rifle? Oh my God! We have to call the cops!" She begins rambling on and I see the hysteria building. I have to give her credit; she had held her shit together and remained calm.

"Ally, I took care of it."

"What do you mean you took care of it? This is not Afghanistan, and you are not a soldier anymore. We have laws to follow and one of those laws is you do not shoot people! I could go to jail for accessory to murder! What am I..."

"Ally! HE TRIED TO KILL YOU! It's not like I went outside and shot a random man doing yard work. He was suited up and had a high-powered rifle pointed at your house, AT YOU! Why are these men after you, what do you have that they want?"

This seems to make her clam down and think. "I don't know, I'm nobody. I mean, my dad has been involved in some less than legal business ventures over the years but I was never involved in any of it." At this point, I think she finally realized she was still standing there naked because she suddenly goes to the couch and begins putting on her clothes. She finally noticed the rifle I had set down against the kitchen breakfast bar and she looks at me as if I am the one trying to kill her.

"Ally, he was trying to kill you. If I had not been here you would be dead. Please, let me make a call and I'll get it cleaned up. You don't need the unnecessary police attention right now..."

"Then I'll call an ex-boyfriend that owes me a favor, he's a homicide detective and he will tell me what to do."

I walk over to her and grab for her hand but she jerks away from me.

"If you don't want to talk to the cops then I suggest you leave," she says with disgust in her voice, as if we hadn't just made love two hours ago...

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