Book Marksman: Chapter 2: Trial by Fire.

Next part in the Marksman book. Soulless has set out on a one man mission, and is forced to use every skill in his arsenal to survive and complete his mission. Meanwhile, Dark and Evil run into a bump in their plan to bring Titanium and Platinum to Afghanistan.

Marksman: Chapter 2: Trial by Fire

Dark trudged into the cave, M4A1 assault rifle held in one hand, his canteen in the other. Evil was tapping away at the computer console again.
Dark didn't know where Evil came from, but he knew that he and Soulless had some sort of connection. Dark and Evil got along well enough, but there was something. . .complex. . .about Evil's personality. Everything he did was thought out in some sort of cold logic that was hidden by an easygoing-yet-serious attitude.
And then there was Soulless.
The team's sniper was all business, taking nothing for granted, but always watching out for his teammates in that cold sniper's sense of his. He hardly ever missed a shot, nor an opportunity to deal damage to enemies.
Dark came over to Evil's side and glanced at his screen, noting the steady tapping at the keyboard had paused. There was a thermal drone feed of a lone figure crouched, staring down the sights of a rifle.
“What's this?" Dark asked, leaning his rifle against the table and ripping open an MRE ration pack.
“Just a drone feed of a single contact about sixteen miles from here." Evil replied, snatching Dark's canteen out of his hand and taking a swig from it. “Is it him?"
“Oh it's him all right. He's moving in that unpredictable pattern of his. Double, sometimes tripling back on himself."
Their radio's crackled and a voice neither of them had ever heard before popped over the radio. “Omega base, this is Eagle actual. Requesting Intel on line figure at grid Echo six."
Evil raised a finger to his ear and replied, ”Eagle actual this is Omega 2-3. Lone contact is unidentified, but we believe it is Omega 2-1 maintaining radio silence."
The radio crackled again. “Copy. Will keep an eye on the situation."
“10-4. Thanks Eagle. 2-3 out." Evil said, removing his hand from his ear.
Dark poured water carefully into an MRE heater, then slid the meal packet into the box against the heater. He then turned and saw Evil widening the image, which now showed the original heat signature in a prone position, and a large blob of white heat headed toward him.
“What the hell is that?" Dark asked.
“That, my friend," Evil said grimly. “is a whole lot of bad guys."

Soulless leaned forward a little to draw his Glock 17 and its attached suppressor out of its holster and into his hand. If he moved to raise his rifle now, he would surely be spotted. That, and the magazine jutting out the bottom would prevent him from getting a comfortable sight picture on the approaching payroll at this range.
Soulless slid the slide on the handgun back an inch to check there was a round chambered. There was, and he let the slide back down slowly, then tightened his grip on the pistol.
The patrol edged nearer. They were outfitted with that strange black body armor he had noticed the gunner of an unidentified helicopter wearing two days ago.
Then, something flashed in front of the sun.
The patrol was almost on top of him, yet the object that had passed in front of the sun distracted him the most. It had almost looked like-
His train of thought was cut short as the ground ten yards away from him, where the oncoming patrol was standing, erupted into an explosion. Clumps of mountain dirt crashed down on top of Soulless, pieces of grass-laced dirt slamming into his face. There was another detonation following the first one.
Soulless stayed where he was for a while. Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat. He had to get his heartbeat under control. He was vulnerable to anyone with a heartbeat sensor watching him.
Slowly, the ringing in his ears subsided, and he moved into a crouch. He had, amazingly, kept his grip on his Glock when the explosions occurred.
Still moving in a crouch, he advanced towards where the patrol had been, pistol at low ready.
He heard a yell, and he froze, listening. He could hear the clanking of armor.
He slowly poked his head over the edge of the crater. What he saw didn't surprise him.
The entire patrol had been decimated. Their bodies either torn apart or thrown aside by the first detonation. The second one had literally ripped the remaining patrol members apart.
One patrol member lay bent over one of his buddies, who was rolling around. The one on the ground was breathing hard. He was missing his right leg below the knee.
The patroller on the ground looked up and yelled a warning to his buddy, who turned, aiming a Beretta M9 in one hand towards Soulless. He never got to pull the trigger.
The first two rounds caught the guy right in the chest. Knocking him backwards. The third caught him full on the face, shattering his face am ask and painting the edge of the crater behind him red. The fourth caught him in the pelvic area.
Soulless calmly lowered the pistol, but kept both hands on it. The wounded soldier turned his head to glance at his friend, who was very, very dead.
The soldier on the ground began to sob, hands on the remainder of his leg. “Help me. Please. Oh god, help me please."
Soulless just aimed his Glock and pulled the trigger, the round coughing out the end of the suppressor. The bullet slammed between the soldiers eyes, stopping him dead, ending his pain.
Soulless' radio crackled in his ear. “Predator 3-8 hailing unidentified signature, please respond."
Soulless keyed his radio. “Omega 2-9 responding. Thanks for the help Predator."
“No problem. Heads up, we are bingo on fuel and ammo, and will take a half hour to refuel and rearm, so watch yourself out there, okay?"
“Copy your last. Take care Predator."
“You too, Omega. Predator out."

Dark tapped at the laptop, monitoring his link with the C-130 cargo plane carrying Dark's brothers, the twins, Titanium and Platinum, into Afghan airspace. “I need an update Falcon Please respond."
“Four minutes to drop Omega actual." The C-130's pilot responded. “I'll update you when we're two minutes out."
“Copy." Dark responded, and glanced over at where Evil was cleaning his own M4. He had the upper section broken forward and was cleaning out the firing pin.
“I think that's been cleaned by now, buddy." Dark commented. Evil looked up and gave him a dark look.
“Just keep monitoring that link." Evil said.
“Yeah I am. If anything goes wro-"
The radio spat a burst of static and Evil and Dark heard the pilot yelling “Omega actual this is Falcon Two-Four, taking heavy fire!" There was another sharp burst of static, followed by the cry of, “We are going down! I repeat, taking heavy fire, we are going down! Impact imminent, brace brace bra-"
The link went dead.
Dark and Evil looked at each other long and hard. There was no words, just a silent agreement. Evil slammed his M4 upper section into place, then slammed a magazine into the mag well, yanking the charging handle back and letting it slam a round into the chamber. Dark donned his Kevlar vest and munitions harness, grabbing his own M4 and loading it. Evil drew his Desert Eagle and cycled the slide, chambering a .357 magnum round.
The two were about to head out when the computer started blaring an alarm tone. Evil paused and switched
windows. He stared at it for a couple seconds, then swore loudly. “Sensor alarm! Our perimeter had been breached!"
Dark swore, and began pushing munitions crates to form an erratic barricade. Evil rushed around disabling the lighting, and grabbed a couple extra magazines of ammunition for his M4 and Desert Eagle. Dark ducked around behind the makeshift barricade, while Evil drew his Deagle and pressed himself against the cave wall.
“You good?" Evil asked.
Dark nodded. “How are we going to do this. We're probably out gunned thi-"
“Shh!" Evil hissed, and Dark clapped his mouth shut, listening carefully. What he heard made his heart stop.

Footsteps and the clink of armor. Their enemies were coming for them.

Tags: @MR_EVIL_OVERLORD, @DarkTitan_, @TheTitaniumTitan, @ThePlatinumTitan, @rocktomb34.

Chapter 3 soon folks. Thanks for reading!

 

You're dead, no reason to write anymore. Scuse my while I pretend to mourn your death then snipe the crap out of everyone.
Jk ily fam you aren't dead (or are you)

Hue.

 

If you count administering first aid with a .223x556 FMJ bullet “doctoring" then yes.

Quick update for those characters not introduced yet, I'm writing that part pronto. I will have it out soon