Crime Fiction
Date Published: November 16, 2020
Publisher: Tekrighter, LLC
A crazed sniper. A loved one wounded, in danger of death. The unforgiving Fake News media. And a hidden villain more loathsome than any that Natalie McMasters has encountered before.
Nattie’s in the crosshairs as a series of seemingly random shootings terrorizes the city. She must fight to keep her polyamorous family from disintegrating, her emotions from running wild and her personal integrity uncompromised. This would be a formidable task for anyone, much less a twentysomething college student who just wants to graduate and get on with her life. Nattie must rely on old friends and new, but how can she even, when friends can become enemies in the blink of an eye? As Nattie nears an emotional meltdown, society collapses along with her, as the sniper’s depredations take their toll on the city.
Sniper! is a twisted, sexy, absolutely gripping descent into darkness jam packed with nail-biting suspense. Don’t miss it!
Excerpt:
It’s 0300¾oh dark thirty if I’ve
ever been there. I’m driving down a two-lane road on a ridge. One side is a
forest, the other overlooks a valley which is packed with homes. Suburbia,
U.S.A.
Rounding a curve, I come to a place where the
shoulder widens and tire tracks indicate that many have pulled off to enjoy a
smoke or neck a little while looking down on the pastoral scene below. I follow
suit, then shut off the engine and get out of the truck. This is my final
firing position today. Going to the rear, I open the tailgate, flip up the bed
cover, and climb in. I reach up and close the bed cover again, leaving the
tailgate down.
I open the backpack I find inside and take
out the pieces of my weapon system. It only requires a minute to assemble the
rifle—insert the bolt into the receiver, screw the barrel on in front, followed
by the suppressor, the bipod, then slap a mag of 7.62s into the bottom. I
remove the lens caps from the scope, put the rifle to my shoulder, and rest the
bipod on the tailgate. Only about an inch peeps out from under the bed cover,
so it’s highly unlikely anyone driving by will even notice.
There’s only a quarter moon tonight, so it’s
still too dark to survey the killing ground, but that’s OK. The most essential
quality that a sniper must possess is patience. Lying as still as a corpse, I
mentally review the mission parameters—insertion is complete, camo in place.
All that remains is recon, carrying out the mission itself, and exfiltration
from the FPP.
As the sun rises, the homes transform from a
uniform grey to a colorful palette on a green background. This is an older
neighborhood, so no two adjacent houses are alike. I begin my survey¾ideally,
I’d like to take out a target after they get into their car. That will be less
obvious than dropping them in the driveway, allowing plenty of time to elapse
before the body is discovered so I can be long gone. The streets of the
subdivision begin to fill with traffic, but I don’t want to take out anyone
who’s made it out to the road. The longer it takes people to realize what’s
happened, the greater my chances of a clean exfil.
I catch a glimpse of movement in a driveway.
A side door opens, and a boy about ten comes out. I capture him in the reticle,
framing his head and shoulders. It’s short range¾only about 100 meters. I
take one more check of the surroundings and it’s a good thing. The door opens
again and mom and little bro exit the house¾I guess she’s driving
everyone to school. I abort the target and look for another.
A few blocks away, a garage door opens and
the rear of a car appears. Placing the reticle on the passenger window, I can
see the silhouette of the driver inside, but the body of the auto provides
enough concealment to make a precise shot impossible. I’m not looking to wound.
I abort again.
Finally, patience pays off, as it always
does. A guy comes out his front door and goes to his car in the driveway,
parked with the front facing the street. It’s a red Mustang, and he caresses
the hood as he passes in front of it¾he really must love that
car. He unlocks the driver’s door and slips inside as I put the reticle on him
and make the range about 400 meters. I let him pull the door shut before I
squeeze off a round, and I see him slump toward the passenger seat. Perfect
left temple kill shot.
I open the bolt and eject the round, push
forward to load another, and survey the scene once more. Shit. Here comes
wifey, out the front door, holding his briefcase. She must be calling out, but
he doesn’t hear her of course, so she walks over to the car to give it to him.
It takes her a second when she bends down by the passenger door to realize
something’s wrong. When she straightens up to scream, I squeeze off a round and
drop her. Now I survey the area again, looking for witnesses. Back on the front
door, a teenage girl is framed in the opening. She looks toward the driveway,
and her mouth pops open in horror. She disappears back inside the house before
I can get a round off. Shit! It was time to get outta Dodge two minutes ago.
I lay the rifle down on the towel I’ve placed
there for it, climb out of the load bed, close the tailgate and hop in the
truck. A car coming towards me passes as I fire the engine up. Good thing this
state doesn’t require a license plate on the front. I put her in gear, check my
mirror, then pull out in the road. I head for the highway where there’ll be
lots of traffic to lose myself in.
Mission complete.
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