The Long Shot Part 2: The Loud Crack
#3 of A Bushman's Lament
The Long Shot, Part Two; The Loud Crack
The Present
"...Sir, we can take the suspect in custody now", Came a voice at the front of the bus. Night had fallen proper now and standing next to the drivers seat was a 6'4" German Sheppard anthro police officer, wearing the blue summer uniform of the Australian Interstate Police Force, indicating to me to release the slightly less scared white fox who head was still clasped by my hand. I flashed my STROLI badge back to him and said, "I need to finish interrogating him first constable, take the witness statements first in the meantime."
With a quick "yes sir" the black brown Sheppard joined his female human partner outside, I could see the 5'5" red-haired girl through the buses front windshield, leaning against the blue-white police cruiser, cute little thing was she.
"Now kid, where were we" I queried, "You aren't really going to interrogate me...are you?" replied the timid arctic fox.
"No, not unless you don't tell me where we were" I responded sneering with a squeeze to his little head. "OKAY, okay, you were squeezing the trigger".
"Ah yes..."
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3rd of December 2123
Lying prone on the ledge in Alaska
I squeezed the trigger and it reached its zenith with a loud cough-esque sound from the suppressed barrel of the rifle. Through the scope I saw the little ragged hole in floppy cap's temple and the spray of brain, blood and bone that emanated from the other side of his now, more empty coconut, and he went down unto the floor of the watchtower like a sack of potatoes.
"Nice shot", "Thanks Liz, call out targets now sweetheart".
"Shack guard west, in darkness", Switching the scope to thermal I saw the red orange blob of the guard and squeezed two 7.62x51mm rounds into the poor bugger's chest.
"Shack guard east, cliff edge, under the lamp" Liz calls rapid and professionally, despite her smooth water-over-pebbles voice. "I see him" calling back. I aimed at his right shoulder in normal vision and plugged him with another round of the rifle, and like I predicted he span around and over the cliff to
make a splat mark 200 meters down, screaming all the way.
"Oh brutal Bushman" Liz exclaimed, "His scream will draw out the guard I saw in the shack on the thermal," I explained. "Oh, well aren't you clever", "Lets not start this argument again Liz" I plead as I place a round in the final guard's head, making him fall back through the door into the shack.
"HIGHCOM, Longbow 1, shack guards eliminated." I report, "This is Longbow 2, lower checkpoint guards terminated" Kris stated.
"Roger that Longbows, good work, target the final checkpoint and then cover the roof tops and courtyard as planned, Eagle teams are 90 seconds away now". Came HIGHCOM "Your right Director, I can hear them now" Kris responded. His long ears obviously gave him a longer hearing range but a moment later I heard the chops of the Osprey blades as well. "Longbow 2, this is Longbow 1, you take the checkpoint I'll cover the roofs and courtyard" I call over ICOM, Kris responded with the typical "Yes Sir".
"More tangos please Liz", "Okay then Bushman, how about the two tangos on the scaffolding over the guard barracks." She responds most sultry, "Remember Liz it's professional time." I joke.
With the Ospreys getting closer the two guards she specified started to fumble around with a large case, but with two smooth trigger pulls the guards fumbling turned into limp slouching. "Chalk up two more" I exclaim, whilst I check the scopes' top left ammo counter, 7.62 - 13/20, not bad ammo use I thought to myself.
The three Ospreys were in visual range now, their black coloured hulls carrying twenty men each, carried by the two wing mounted swivel jets, giving them their VTOL capability, with an external 30mm Gatling turret mounted gun on the nose providing extra fire power. They flew in over the ski slope and past the house as I capped a nosy bastard armed with an RPG on it's roof, and they opened their back door ramps, allowing the human-anthro mixed teams to fast rope into the courtyard.
Quickly fanning out, one team entered the guard barracks to subdue the tangos within while the other two entered the house and shack. "This is Longbow 2, guard checkpoint upper eliminated" came Kris over ICOM "A little trouble there, Longbow 2." "Fuck you Longbow 1", I chuckled at that and made sure Kris could hear it.
From the ICOM, the rough voice of the Doberman that was leading Eagle 2 through the barracks spouted over the gunfire on his end. "This is Eagle 2 lead, we are having some trouble with guards who barricaded themselves in, we offered them to surrender but it seems to just piss them off as Eagle 2-6, 2-12 and 2-16 are WIA, I don't think they like us much, please advise HIGHCOM". "Confirmed, Longbow 1, Can you assist?" called the Director.
"Copy that HIGHCOM, Eagle 2, highlight your position with your IFF beacons so I don't shoot you." I requested. "Roger that, activating IFF now" called out Eagle 2 over even more furious suppressing fire.
I moved the scope over the Barracks, the thick reinforce concrete wall of it's western end blocked my vision. Switching to thermal I called out to Liz, my now life-mate since last night's union, to watch the roof and courtyard while I scoped out the barracks. The green outlined red blobs of Eagle team was at the east end in front of a hallway kill zone with about 12 guards at the west in what looked an armoury and CC. "Eagle 2 be advised I can't use my XM110 on the guards, I'm switching to the M95/C so stand clear of the Hallway." I advised, "Confirmed Longbow 1, STAND CLEAR SQUAD" Eagle lead shouted to his troops, nearly deafening me.
Using the selector above my right thumb, I switched the trigger system on the 241 Special SBS from the XM110 7.62x51mm weapon on the lower half of the integrated rifle to the M95/C 14.5x114mm on its upper where the scope was housed on top of it. The ammo counter highlighted the 14.5 tag with the ammo standing 8/8. "Okay, here we go". I breathed.
I scoped the chest of a non-outlined red-yellow blob of a guard that was firing up the hall from the near side of the armoury door with what looked like a shotgun and slowly squeezed the trigger, bracing for the recoil of the large bullet from the Halo-esque gun. A sound similar to the crack of thunder came from the muzzle braked gun, a jarring sound compared to the suppressed XM110's cough, launching the massive round down the top barrel towards it's target. The solid round blew a bowling ball sized hole in the meter thick steel reinforced concrete wall, hitting and obliterating the presumably bewildered guard's leg. "Damn I missed" I grumbled, "Losing your touch Bushman, maybe you should not wear those goggles, they might fuck up your aim" came Kris, the sneer not lost over the ICOM. "Screw you Kris and use the call signs dammit"
He referred to the welder's goggles I wore, like the ones worn by Riddick in that film; I wore them ever since the "change" to cover my ‘condition'. "The concrete fouled my aim now if you don't mind I'm trying to save lives here" I scathed him and cut the line. There were eight guards now, no seven as one got a face full of lead for looking up behind an overturned desk. Seven guards, seven shots, they fell like clay pigeons as I blew bullet after bullet through the concrete wall, offering them all the mercy of God when he's wrathful, till all seven got plugged. "The ways clear, Eagle 2." I stated to the Doberman.
Moving into the room they described my devastation, "Fuck your Mother Mary", "the wall is Swiss cheese, and there are gouges in the floor a foot deep", "Oh man there's are guy without a leg, and another blasted in half." "CUT THE CHATTER, we're still on mission" cut the drill sergeants-like voice of Eagle 2 lead. "Thank god he' on our side" one more trooper mutters then I switched channels checking on the status of the other Eagles.
"Eagle 1, objective status, Eagle 3 Objective status", I said on ICOM. "Eagle 1 here all but one Umbrella present, others secured and awaiting evac in courtyard. Still searching for the lost Umbrella", "Eagle 3, Labs secure, data has been downloaded and secured and explosives are ready for HIGHCOM's detonation signal." "Excellent", I stated, loading an 8 round clip into the M95's bull pup magazine, "Command all but one Umbrella secured, lab is ready for demolition, a pretty good haul today Director".
"Not quite Longbow 1, the lost Umbrella was doctor Cal Botha, a human supremacist, he is the one that exposed the refugees of the Tampa to radiation and decompression to ‘study' it's effects, he was our ace of spades." The Director stated, anger present in his near growl tone of his deep base voice. Suddenly Liz called out, "Contact, snow bike on the ski slope, he must be our ace, they had a hidden garage the sneaky bastards". "Longbow 1, stop him immediately" the Director said most urgently.
"With pleasure sir, Liz, speed, distance, angle, and wind details".
I shifted from my position to lie prone alongside my lizard lover to face the ski slope. I saw the bastard's headlight of his bike, skirting the trees on the northern side of the slope. From behind the spotter binocs Liz had all the information I needed to make the shot. "Speed: 45-55 kilometres, Distance 3.6 kilometres and increasing, Angle: 31 degrees minus, Wind 6 knots Westerly." Breathing out I knew this would be a hell of a shot, the slope had bumps and dips as well as the occasional tree, At least Botha didn't think anyone could stop him at that range.
But I knew different.
"Range 4000 meters, he's moving fast now!" Liz exclaimed, "Thanks sugar but be quiet please or I might not hit him" I responded calmly in my neutral V8 voice.
I saw him at the maximum magnification of 25x on the scope. He was leaning forward through the bumps; it was obvious he was an experienced snow biker. But he looked gaudy in the Kill Bill-esque leather out fit and helmet that only works on Uma Thurman God bless. Despite this he was moving quickly, I had to shoot soon and shoot true lest I miss my chance. He hit a straight bit of snow 4600 meters out, near a utility track carved through the snow banks; if he reached that I would have lost him. I breathed out, my energy organs in my back working overtime to heat me up to stop my shivering for the shot. My heart thudded in my ears as I moved the cross hair 100 meters in front of him, at the lip of a crest just before the track. I squeezed the trigger utterly slowly, making sure that there wasn't a sudden shift in wind.
CRACK
The bullet flew out, and time seemed to slow down for me, as if God wanted to witness the longest and most difficult shot I ever attempted. The round flew down the ski slope with the grace of a bird, the tracer showing its flight to all in the night. For 2000 meters it flew before gravity started the bullet to drop. I watched the tracer through the scope, I saw Botha on the red skidoo and I realised that the bullet...
Would miss.
Short by 10 meters
But at the final 500 meters of it's flight, a gust of wind propped the bullet the rest of the way. An act of god surely, as it came to the end of its journey in Botha's right thigh, overbalancing him as he launched over the crest and he and ski bike fell in a rolling heap until smashing into a tree on it's side, uprooted by the blizzard, a 20 meter roll ended by nature 40 meters short of safety.
I watched the mess of man, machine, and nature for a full 2 minutes through the scope.
No movement
Botha, the biggest scumbag of the human supremacists, was dead.
"HIGHCOM, the ace has been beaten by the joker" I called over ICOM on an open channel, hearing the cheer of the teams out here and at HIGHCOM STROLI tactical room. After five years of hunting we got the bastard, the bastard that sentenced over 10 thousand Anthron refugees to death for ‘medical' research just because he couldn't look past his prejudices.
"Well done Longbow 1, that was the most amazing shot I have seen ever, but now you have to hike down there to confirm the KIA of the Ace of Spades, we don't want to leave any chance of his escape. We need to know so that we may or may not need to spend resources on hunting him again". The Director stated, bringing a quick end to the cheers. "Yes sir, I'll take my spotter with me to provide witness".
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It took a while to get down to the crash site, the Ospreys were occupied with the evac and our snow ranger was down at the bottom of the cliff our ledge was on. But with a bit of creative climbing we covered the 200-meter cliff face in short order.
The Snow Ranger is hydrogen powered Ute (or pickup) with studded front wheels and a pair of caterpillar tracks under the tray. Packing our tent, bags weapons and such into the Ranger's tray my life mate called to me. "Bushie, how did you manage to hit Botha at that distance, I in my 50 years of work in STROLI have never seen a shot like that." Chuckling, looking at her uncovered face and deep into her Sapphire-blue eyes through my goggles, I said to my golden finned, white reptilian angel, in the most deep and meaningful voice I could. "Liz, I missed".
Looking utterly bewildered, with her head cocked left and eyes wide, she spluttered a coughing, "What!?", "I was aiming for the bike". I said smiling as I climbed into the cab.
"Your kidding...aren't you?" she said "No my snow angel, I never kid when it comes to my kills". I replied starting the Snow Ranger's V12 4L engine, chucking on the lights, ready to roll. "Well Liz, are you get on or stand their like an ice sculpture."
"No need to be rude Bushman" she retorted as she climbed in. "What snowflake, I think you would make a lovely ice sculpture, but well you wouldn't be one for long considering how you got warm last night, OW" I shut up quick when she smacked me with her tail. "You deserved that, now shut up and drive."
"Well buckle up then Sheila, can't having you sliding all over the seat, especially to my side". She gave me a scalding reply, which I couldn't here over the revving V12 as we headed to the crash. Each time she tried to give it again, I kept revving the monster V12.
With this casual banter we made it to the crash site within 5 minutes. I should have made it longer to get a good hopeful fondle from my lizard woman but the job came first. Sure enough there was still no movement from the mass of the savaged snow mobile, tree and the man in between during the last twenty minutes. I angled the Ranger to illuminate the scene with the lights, and parked the half-tracked truck.
Climbing out I said to HIGHCOM "It's a mess down here Director, no way in Gods white earth could someone survive this". "We see it to through the Ranger's camera Longbow 1, get a DNA sample of the body to confirm death and then wrap it up for evac", "Yes Director" with that I closed the channel.
"Hey Liz, can you get the specimen kit on your side." I directed into the cab towards the reptile huddled over the heating vents. "Oh come on, I just got warm, I don't wanna go back into the cold." She whined. "Look Liz, you're the medic it's your job not mine" I scathe with a flash of mild anger.
"If it will make your feel better I'll take you to the best hotel in Soldotna when we get back. There we'll have the biggest king salmon, afterwards a soak in the Jacuzzi, a bit of champagne and then I'll wash your back if you know what I mean." I state to the white shivering lizard. "That would have to be one heck of a wash Bushman, I don't know why I volunteered for this job anyway". She mumbled
Practically leaping into the cab I slide over to her side of the seat, slide my hands past the hood of her jacket to expose her face and frame it with my hands. My lips pressed against her scaled ones, tongue probing for entry. Granted it was and my flat tongue was caressed by her long serpentine one. Mouth against muzzle, we stayed for a while like that. I pulled away and my goggle-covered eyes stared deep into her sapphire blue, her face bathed in the trucks lights highlighting her features and curves. "You came because I love you and you love me", I say in a passionately, the lust and love entwined in my near-breathless whisper. "After 10 years of being just-friends and partners, we finally confirmed each other Liz, our fears put to rest, last night showed that and it was beautiful."
"I know, it was beautiful," she murmured back to me. I tilted my Akubra up to clear my forehead from the brim, and pressed said forehead against hers, the scales smooth against my skin. "When we get back Liz, I'll do something I have never have before, I'll remove the goggles so you can see me complete."
"I would be honoured my Cipher." She said to me, my nickname to her, she saw me as her personal puzzle for those 10 years. "But first love, we have to finish up here, so could you place collect Botha's DNA while I make sure the gear is secured."
"Okay" A final kiss acting as her full stop, then she climbed out of the cab with the specimen box in hand, and sauntered over to the remains of the former doctor 15 meters from the Ranger, although looking like a cushion in her Inuit clobber her deliberately swaying hips stirred my loins.
Jumping out I went over to the tray, my 7'10" frame easily overcoming the height of the suspension and made sure all the ropes and bungie cords were secure. Confident that the gear wasn't going to knock around during the trip back to the field HQ in Soldotna I called over to Liz if she was done. "I'm filling the last blood sample now, it's a bit hard as he's covered in some weird smelling fluid." She responded to my inquiry. The smell she described invaded my nose on a brief gust of wind, with horror I realised that unlike the vehicles she was familiar with, the Ski bike wasn't powered by Hydrogen cells. Screaming was I, "LIZ, GET AWAY FROM THERE, IT'S PETR..."
The explosive fireball, caused by a sparking battery, drowned my voice out. The blast knocked me down and broke the Rangers lights; the flames turned the night into day as it roared, consuming Botha, the bike, and the tree. The screams, her screams, my beloved's screams as she was blasted back but with her came the flaming petrol from the ruptured tanks and they covered her form. From the fin on her head to her toes and tail she was turned from my angel into fire. Flailing and rolling, climbing to her feet and failing again in a fiery dance as the entire scene reflected on my goggles on the ground, knocked lose from the blast they observed the entire spectacle through their soulless panes. In slow motion on my back I saw it all and in my head I knew I could do nothing, the fire extinguisher was buried under the gear it would take too long to get, I climbed to my feet and did the only thing I could do.
I pulled my 12-inch, .52 Wildey from the holster on my right leg, I raised it up to my uncovered eyes, and looked down the matte black barrel and placed the pillar of fire that was my beloved into the high-visibility sights. Two pulls, two shots, two large bullets, one in her heart, one in her head. No more screams of agony came from her as she slumped to the ground, the fire still burning in pillar high from the body and the ski bike behind her. It all took of fifteen seconds to end her suffering but it seemed like hours.
Then I screamed.
Of anger, despair, I cried my souls own agony so loud that heaven could surely hear me. I slumped limp to my knees and placed my hands on the snow, crying. Soon though the tears stop. The whole thing crushing my soul, she would have lived for at least a thousand years but I only had her for ten. Ten years of beating round the bush and ignoring each others feelings as best we could, I knew her intimately for less than 24 hours. Now only I have a burning corpse.
The Wildey was near my hands, I grabbed it as I rose off them and settled back on feet, still kneeling. My goggles were next to me, I held them in my left hand and the massive gun in my right, for some reason I noticed for the first time that although big, the gun looked like the prefect fit in my one half larger hand. I popped the clip, the bare metal reflecting the fire, putting it back into the gun I pulled back the slide, the polished feed ramp reflecting my corrupted red and yellow black slitted eye. I clenched my left hand in a death grip around my goggles, I wanted to keep them.
I knew what I would do and I knew it's result but I still felt so empty I had to. Letting the slide go I turned the gun to face me, my thumb falling on the trigger, the tears came back as my ruined eyes, the eyes that would have decided if Liz would truly love me, looked at her still burning form. I thrust the business end of the long black barrel into my mouth and angled it towards the dead zone, the place at the base of the spine that ensured instant death, and slowly squeezed the trigger.
The last thing I heard was the loud crack of the Wildey.
Then nothing...