Hardest Shots
Ten hut!
After having seen the movie American Sniper (And even before that, the trailer of said movie), 1 scene in general inspired me to write this one-shot, starring Brick. If you like it and you're lucky, I might even make it a two-shot.
Take note that I have fairly little expertise on army procedures and tactics. And as such, they might make little to no sense.
Big credit for Snakeshark123 and Applauze for helping me out where it was needed! Which puts me even deeper in debt with them!
This one is definitely rated capital T for violence, cursing and implied gore. I only hope this still keeps it on T. Or else I might risk having this story removed.
Do you know what the hardest targets to shoot are? Moving targets? Invisible Targets? Highly unpredictable targets? No, targets that can't bring yourself to shoot. Targets which you aren't supposed to have your crosshairs on.
There was a time that the thrill of war appealed to me, but the day I learnt about targets, was also the day that thrill made room for grief.
Stepping out of the plane, I was greeted by a incredibly humid air and a scorching sun, I had finally arrived in the capital of Nigeria. I was sent out to help the national army fight against a terrorist group who were threatening the peace and stability of the whole country and were approaching the capital. The group started out in 2002, and although I'm sure the Nigerian Army did everything it could, the terrorists were gaining the upper hand right now in 2024. So an international coalition was formed to push the terrorists back and maybe even completely defeat them. And as Canada is part of that coalition, I was sent out on my first serious tour of duty!
I was always fascinated by the army. Not so much because of the battle, but because of the teamwork and the camarade I feel there is. And maybe it's also that you do this not to make a profit, but to help other people or defend your own. That thought alone makes it all worthwhile.
It took of hard training, even after I went through cadet school, to be admitted into what may just be the most prestigious task force in the Canadian military. I was sent out before, but that was a peacekeeping operation in the Middle East. Here I expect to get involved in serious combat situations. Still, I have little reason to be nervous, because aside from my trust in my training, I was trained to be a sniper and I mostly have to oversee other troops as recon places. Sniping wasn't exactly what I wanted to do, but the drill instructor found me to have remarkable skill, and what the instructor says, goes.
''Corporal McArthur!'' Someone called out to me as I left the plane and was directed away from the other soldiers by the shout. I looked over to the sound and spotted a middle aged man approaching me. He was a staff sergeant, 2 ranks above mine.
''Reporting Sir!'' I enthusiastically barked back at my superior. Saluting and calling him sir as a matter of politeness, as I'm officially not required to do so.
''Welcome in Abuja corporal. I am staff sergeant Pepper Hartman.'' He replied, saluting me back before we back walked away from the plane. [1]
''How's the situation?'' I asked.
''Well, everything but love is in the air corporal! Bullets, shells. Hell, even heads!'' The sergeant loudly illustrated (To overcome the other noises at the landing strip) as we approached a stationary helicopter and climbed into it, after which we closed the doors and the helicopter took off. ''But besides that, we're making good progress on these barbarians! We're going up north, there you'll be stationed and be briefed on the situation.''
''Affirmative!'' I enthusiastically replied. Of course, Sergeant Hartman's answer sounded a bit gory, but from the stories I've heard, we were on the winning hand.
Directly after landing at a military base an hour later, the sergeant made me follow him.
''We're we going sir?'' I asked him.
''You're just in time corporal. The mission briefing just began!'' Sergeant Hartman told me after checking his watch. ''Also, that's the bunk you're sleeping in for tonight!'' He said, pointing at a barrack. Alright, it was actually just a large tent, but it had its charm.
Sergeant Hartman opened the door of a small building let us enter. In the building, a briefing was held by a lieutenant standing in front of a screen that a beamer shone on, displaying several maps and photos. A platoon of soldiers was already seated and the lieutenant had begun when we entered. I saw that every seat seemed to be occupied, so I remained standing in the back as Sergeant Hartman made his way to the screen.
''We've managed to push them back to the northeastern part of Nigeria, but that's where the hard part begins! Northeast Nigeria is where they started out and it's riddled with their bastions! Couple that with the millions of acres of jungle and we have something close to a second Vietnam on our hands! We're assigned to clear the villages of any threats that have stayed.'' The sergeant explained, pointing at several maps and pictures displayed on a screen with a laser pointer before he switched the laser pointer and the projector off.
''Take in consideration that every man still in the villages is most likely a hostile and take extreme caution!'' He sternly warned us.
They could've left, but they stayed behind and choose to fight us. At least I don't have to worry about feeling guilty for shooting them. I have had no trouble killing someone in the past, but that were insurgents. I luckily never had to shoot someone who isn't supposed to be shot, like innocents. I was trained to overcome that natural rejection, but I sometimes doubt if I could make the shot when it's time.
''Troops go from door to door to search buildings while a sniper covers the convoy from 1 of the many rooftops. The snipers are accompanied by a soldier to guard and if needed, assist them. Rogers, you get private Keane.'' The lieutenant called out, pointing at another elite troop beside me, who nodded his head slightly. ''Donnelly, your buddy is DuPont and McArthur, you're paired up with Hayden!'' He announced to me, I saluted until I saw a red-haired soldier in the crowd rise slightly and look back at me, who turned out to be Scott, to both our surprise. I haven't seen him in all these years and he still looks about the same as I remember him, without the trauma chair that is.
''We leave early morning! Briefing dismissed.'' The lieutenant called before almost everyone made their way out of the tent. I waited outside until Scott came out.
''Scott, what are you doing in the army?'' I asked him a little surprised when he managed to get out as I walked alongside through over the base. ''You don't strike me as someone who'd join so easily!''
''Eh, it runs in the family.'' Scott shrugged.
''So it does with mine! My great-grandfather even fought in world war 2!'' I proudly told him as I tried to keep up with him, because he walked at a pretty fast pace.
''Well, I don't want it to run in the family. Put it like that! But it's still better than risking the slammer for cooking meth.'' He bitterly explained as we neared the barrack that was assigned to me and Scott opened the door.
''Why not?'' I asked him after I found an empty bed and hung my sniper on the wall above it and laid my bag down, much to Scott's surprise.
''Ah, this is your barrack too? Perfect.'' Scott grunted as he sat down on his bed.
''Why wouldn't you be proud of being in the army? Fighting for your country! Fighting for others in need! And helping-'' I patriotically said as I sat down on my bed.
''Fighting for your country?'' Scott cynically repeated. ''We're only fighting here so that the oligarchs and business leaders keep their huge cashflow steady! That's nothing to be proud of!'' He venomously interrupted me, shooting up from his bed.
''I don't understand.'' I confusedly replied.
''Have you ever wondered why we're only now fighting that terrorist group while it's been around since 2002?'' Scott cynically asked me.
''I haven't thought about it yet no.'' I responded after thinking about it shortly.
''Oil, that is the reason Brick.'' Scott answered his own question. ''You see, Nigeria is the biggest exporter of oil in Africa. With a terrorist group, whose hatred for western society is only passed by the number of weapons at their disposal, on the verge of overthrowing the current government, the oil barons may just lose their next biggest source of oil now that the Middle East is almost sucked dry. If they can't get any oil, they have to raise the prices for gasoline and related products incredibly.'' Scott formulated as he laid down on the ground and did a few pushups.
''Why's that?'' I asked him a little puzzled.
''Because you know the common oil baron, if 50 dollar bills don't flow out of their taps and their toilets aren't made of solid gold, it's not worth shitting in for them.''
''That doesn't make any sense! You're saying that we only declared war on them because of some rich people!'' I disgustedly said.
''It are not just the corporate fat cats Brick.'' Scott wilily countered before he finished his pushups and stood up. ''If the gasoline prices rise, other prices go up with it. That's called inflation, and that's very bad for the economy! And with that in mind, haven't you noticed that most wars in the past 30 years were fought in areas that export lots of oil?'' Scott suspiciously asked. I wanted to answer, but I wasn't sure how to. ''That's 1 of the many reasons terrorists like these hate the west, because we can be so fucking greedy.'' Scott moodily concluded before he left the tent.
I remained sitting on my bed to think about Scott's speech. I think it was just Scott's negative outlook on rich people that made him think this, but I had to admit that it did make some sense. Were we really here to defeat the terrorists only now because the oil export was at risk? Is that really how the armies work these days?
The next morning, Scott and I were setting up on a rooftop overlooking the central square of a village, where I, as instructed, had to oversee a convoy consisting of troops and a SUV going from door to door. This was a favorable position because we set up right behind a façade, providing us with ample cover while I still could shoot through the decorative holes.
''To hell with all these mosquitoes.'' Scott grumbled. I could see him swat in the air from the corner of my eye while I set up my rifle. ''If we're not getting shot, we might as well get malaria!'' He complained.
''You've got your shots as well right?'' I asked before laying down and peeking through the scope and kept a eye on the area. Below us, I could hear the convoy smash open a door.
''There's no guarantee that they'll work!'' Scott remarked as I saw a small car swiftly coming from around a corner far away and speeding towards the convoy. This is trouble. The driver is probably a suicide bomber driving a rigged car.
''Bravo, there's a suspected hostile in a car driving at great speeds towards the convoy.'' I warned the nearest command post through my headset as I saw the remaining soldiers outside taking aim. I peeked through my scope and saw the determined looking driver holding a hand grenade which was bound to explode once he'd let go. ''I can confirm that he holds a live hand grenade!'' I announced.
''Eliminate him.'' The woman on the other side ordered, after which the soldiers below us began shooting at the car, and while they managed to hit the windshield, the driver was swaying around lightly and this made it very hard to shoot them.
I focused and breathed in deeply while aiming. When I could hear my heart beat, I waited for a moment between beats and pulled the trigger. I got a headshot on the driver, after which his body went limb and the car crashed into a building meters away from the square. Seconds later, the car exploded, probably because of the grenade.
''Threat neutralized.'' I said through the headset, after which the convoy below eased up again.
''Wow, you've shot his brain clean out of his skull!'' Scott complimented me after having watched the car through a pair of binoculars.
''Don't compliment me. I'm only doing what has to be done.'' I grumbled before I ejected the bullet. Contrary to some of my fellow snipers at boot camp, I'm not quick to shoot someone and I especially don't take any pride in it. It's permanent, so you must be able to account for every shot. That's why I must be sure that the target is a hostile before I pull the trigger.
''And the peace returns in this poor hellhole.'' Scott concluded after the soldiers resumed checking houses.
''Not everyone's having it as good as us in Canada, Scott.'' I calmly reasoned with him.
''Not if most of your leaders are dirty as grime, indeed.'' Scott cynically responded. I rolled my eyes and kept my eyes out on the square as it remained silent for some time.
''Who was your first kill?'' Scott eventually asked me, breaking the silence.
''A protester in the Dominican Republic during that uprising took place some years ago. We were sent as order troops and had to guard 1 of the roads to the presidential palace. I had to kill him because he got too close to the barricade despite several warnings.'' I explained a little remorseful.
''Your virgin kill was a protester? That doesn't sound like the honorable Brick I know.'' Scott replied.
''It was a hard shot to make. But it turned out he had a bomb with him so that means tha-'' I tried to say until I spotted someone through my scope. He stood on a nearby rooftop and was eyeing the convoy while calling.
''Bravo, I see a male on a rooftop some houses away from the convoy making a phone call.'' I immediately informed the command base while keeping my crosshair aimed at him.
''Take him if you think he's plotting against us. Your choice.'' She responded.
''What are you waiting for? Do it!'' Scott encouraged me as he watched through his binoculars again. The man then eventually disappeared behind the other buildings. ''Why didn't you shoot him? He was a sitting duck!'' Scott complained as the other soldiers came out of a building and advanced through the square.
''We didn't know for sure if he was involved with the terrorists! I'm not going to be a war criminal!'' I loudly protested.
''Heh, tell that the army's torturers in Abuja! 'Interrogating' any suspects they've caught who may or may not have any involvement with the terrorists.'' Scott muttered before he leant with his back against the façade.
I saw the door of a house further down the square open, and a hooded woman and a boy who couldn't be older than 10 came walking out. I noticed that the woman held the boy close to her as they stopped walking only a few steps away from the building.
''Scott, look at them.'' I whispered at Scott after nudging him. Scott grabbed his binoculars and eyed the pair as well.
''Bravo, I'm looking at a woman and a child across the street from the convoy.'' I told command.
''You know the drill, shoot them if you have to.'' Was the response I got. Naturally, I didn't just yet. Maybe they were just unnerved by the presence of the military.
''Brick, look!'' Scott called, pointing at the duo. I peeked through my scope and saw that the woman was about to hand something to the boy. She dug her hands through her robes and eventually…
…She retrieved a large grenade and handed it to the boy, who hid it under his shirt.
My eyes shot wide open, I began to sweat and my heart started beating like crazy. Were these terrorists about to send in a child to bomb the convoy?! Barbarians! I don't think I can kill a child! But if she sends the kid the other way, I'm not required to kill him. But judging by the way things look right now, I have to.
''This is nasty.'' Scott said as we both watched the mother talking to the child.
''Bravo, I can confirm that the child carries a bomb.'' I nervously announced.
''Take him out.'' She responded right before the child ran towards the convoy, who were too busy searching a house to really notice the boy.
They want me to really kill a child?! He can't be older than 10. This isn't his war. He isn't supposed to be involved in this!
''Brick, take the shot.'' Scott urged me as I could see the boy coming closer and closer to the convoy as well.
''I can't! They're using their own children as weapons!'' I told Scott in utter panic.
''That's because they could brainwash the locals in any way they pleased for the last 10 years! This is part of their strategy to work on your feelings. Now take the shot!'' Scott ordered.
''I simply can't!'' I sighed in defeat.
''Brick, let him blow up the squad and we're both going to military court!'' Scott warned me dead serious, after which Scott took his assault rifle and tried to aim at the kid. ''If you're not doing it, I will!'' He threateningly assured me.
I don't think they'd understand my objections of refusing the shoot the kid when it weights against several dead soldiers. So Scott's right, I have no choice. I pledged to protect my people, and I will. The last thing I can do for this boy is giving him a clean and quick death. I aimed, but because of my twitching and my heartbeat, it was very hard to aim for his head. And then I pulled the trigger. The bullet flew straight to the boy's torso, after which it penetrated his shirt and knocked the boy back a little before he suddenly exploded, startling me and Scott greatly.
I began to whimper and shake as I realized that I hit the bomb! I couldn't spare the boy and now I didn't even give him a painless end to his short life!
''No!'' I briefly shouted in pure anguish as I shot up and looked at the gory mess at the square. The boy's guts laid spread over the place! On the very spot the kid stood was nothing left but a small crater. I hung my head over the edge and wretched. This was too much to bare for me as I eventually vomited.
''Oh my holy hell.'' Scott muttered, probably taken aback as well by the mess as I panted deeply. ''Brick, don't forget that you did the right thing.'' Scott tried to assure me, patting me on my back.
''Don't touch me!'' I viciously barked at him, after which Scott flinched back a little. ''Having done the right thing doesn't make his death any less gory!'' I hissed.
Scott is right. These terrorists try to send out their children and hope that we can't get ourselves to kill them before they kill us! I can't fathom that these people fight this war for the good of their people, because sending out kids make it look like that the end justify the means! I'm not used to this views of war. In my opinion, if war can't be avoided, fight it as honorable as you can. I can't even believe that people fight wars like this!
Why did the world do nothing when they knew these monsters began to use boys as running explosives? If these men want me to kill any more children, then I can't do this anymore. I'm going home as soon as possible. And I don't care whether I get dishonorably discharged or not. It can't be any more dishonorable than being here.
At ease Brick. You need it.
[1] References both a song by the Beatles and a character from the move Full Metal Jacket.
I'm sorry if the ending looks a little rushed or incomplete (In regards to Scott's cynicism of the war), but I do need to set it up to potentially be a two-shot. I already have ample ideas what should happen (And with who)!
I used several scenes from the movie mentioned above in this story while trying to be as spoiler-less as possible for those who still have to see it.
After writing this, I came to the conclusion that maybe I should write emotional pieces more often!
Until the next update (Of any given story)!
: ),
L.W.