Sniper's Justice (Caje Cole Book 9)

by David Healey

  “Yeah, I suppose I do.”

  “Hauer did some pretty ugly things. To be fair, I reckon I did, too. That’s war for you. What’s happening now is what you might call a reckoning. Hauer wants revenge.”

  “What do you want, Pa Cole?”

  “First of all, I want you to get out of here in one piece.” Cole thought about it. “And the second thing, now that the gloves are off, is that I want some justice.”

  “Aren’t you two a little old for all this?”

  Cole grunted. “Tell that to Hauer.”

  “If you ask me, this is crazy.”

  Cole didn’t disagree, but he had learned a long time ago to accept the reality of any situation rather than deny it.

  Without any fire or blankets, it was going to be a long, cold night. Cole put his back against a fallen log, facing the direction from which they had come. He leaned the rifle against the log, within easy reach.

  “Sit over here right up against me,” Cole said. “Our body heat will help to keep us warm.”

  Danny soon nestled against Cole, almost like he had as a little boy. There was some necessity here because the only part of them that stayed warm was where their bodies touched. Their extremities felt cold and they both shivered. Nonetheless, to Cole’s surprise, Danny’s head sagged against Cole’s shoulder and his grandson drifted off to sleep.

  Cole willed his own warmth to flow out of him and into Danny. He’d been a hard man all his life and never one to show much emotion—except anger, maybe. There were times when he regretted that part of himself. But even Cole recognized that it wasn’t just warmth he was letting flow into Danny, it was love.

  While his grandson slept, he kept awake, every sense alert. He heard the gentle night wind stir the trees overhead, the hoot of an owl, the bark of a fox. He didn’t hear any stealthy footsteps in the forest, creeping toward them. He stayed awake, keeping watch through the night, until just before what he judged to be dawn, when he drifted off.

  Cole couldn’t say what woke him up first. It might have been the smack of a bullet hitting the log next to his head, or the sharp crack of a rifle that followed a split second later. He was half asleep, but instinct took over.

  “Danny, keep down! Get on the other side of the log.”

  Quickly, Cole shook off the last blurriness of sleep like he was throwing back a blanket. Scanning the woods, he guessed that the shot had come from the direction of the valley.

  Hauer had managed to track them, probably following their trail through last night’s frosty grass. Now, he was coming after them and his intentions were all too clear.

  Cole crawled over the log, putting it between himself and Hauer. Danny was already crouched behind it.

  Through the rifle scope, Cole scanned the forest and looked into the clearing, but there was no sign of Hauer. Through the high-powered scope, mostly what he saw was a confusing tangle of tree branches. He reminded himself that the man had been a sniper, after all. One of the best. He wouldn’t be exposing himself needlessly to Cole’s rifle sights.

  “Where is he?” Danny asked.

  “Somewhere close.”

  Cole had to admit that he was a little troubled. He had been asleep; Hauer could have crept right up on them. He also wondered how Hauer had managed to miss.

  It had been like that stag. Hauer had been presented with a clear shot that he shouldn’t have missed. What if Hauer had missed on purpose? Cole suspected that Hauer had taken the more masterful shot of intentionally wounding the stag, thus giving him an excuse to trail it into the forest. What if he had done the same thing just now and missed on purpose? If so, it meant that Hauer was toying with them.

  Cole didn’t like the situation at all. Hauer knew where they were, but he couldn’t see Hauer.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Cole said. “We’re going to make a run for it, deeper into the trees. Keep low, and juke and weave. Whatever you do, don’t run in a straight line.”

  “I can do it.” Danny seemed to be reassuring himself.

  “Go!”

  They jumped out from behind the log and ran, willing themselves to present as small of a target as possible. Danny ran a lot faster than Cole, who struggled to keep up.

  Another shot rang out, passing so close that Cole heard the supersonic crack of the bullet. The sound made his spine quiver.

  If Hauer had been toying with them before, he wasn’t anymore. Hauer was shooting to kill.

  He glanced over his shoulder, rifle at the ready, hoping for some glimpse of their pursuer. All that Cole saw were trees and more trees.

  “Hold up,” he called out to Danny, who was getting too far ahead of him. The last thing they needed was to get separated. In this dense forest, they would never find each other again.

  Danny stopped running, getting behind a massive old oak for cover. Cole slid in beside him, breathing hard. Not for the first time, he was glad that he had given up cigarettes back in 1944. So many of the old-timers he knew who smoked now had emphysema or even used oxygen—the ones who hadn’t already died of lung cancer, in any case.

  “Now what?” Danny asked. Racing through the trees had burned off some of the boy’s initial fright and he seemed calmer. Cole was glad that the boy was thinking about strategy.

  “He did have the upper hand,” Cole said. “He had us dead to rights back there. But now, he’s got to come to us.”

  “What do we do?”

  “We wait for him.”

  The massive tree that they had sheltered behind offered good cover. The tree was old enough that some Gallic archer might have passed here, or more recently, a Wehrmacht soldier. One side of the gnarled trunk was festooned with green moss. North, Cole thought. He filed that information away.

  Cole got down on the forest floor to one side of the tree trunk and Danny took the left side.

  “You be my eyes,” Cole said. They didn’t have binoculars, but his grandson’s youthful eyes would be almost as good. They were using scout-sniper tactics now. “If you see any movement, you let me know. I’m going to stay on this here scope.”

  Again, the scope amplified Cole’s vision, but it limited his field of view. All that he could see was a tangle of trees and underbrush, albeit crystal clear. He would rely on Danny to see the big picture spread out before them.

  Their noisy flight through the woods had driven all the forest creatures into hiding. Not so much as a bird flickered through the branches.

  Any movement that they did see would be Hauer coming after them.

  Time passed slowly, but Cole was patient. Hell, he had spent a lifetime getting to this moment. He could wait. It was Danny that he was worried about.

  With autumn, enough litter and leaves covered the forest floor that Cole was confident they would hear Hauer coming. There were quite a few pine trees in places, however, creating essentially a smooth carpet of needles. Nonetheless, Cole was convinced that if they didn’t hear something, then they weren’t being pursued by a man at all, but by a ghost. Then again, a lifetime of shooting meant that Cole’s hearing wasn’t what it used to be. He hoped Danny’s eyes and ears were sharper.

  “There!” Danny whispered hoarsely. “I see him!”

  Cole scanned the woods but saw only the tangle of branches.

  “On a clock face, where would he be?”

  Danny thought. “Two o’clock.”

  Cole moved the scope in that direction. Sure enough, he saw a flicker of motion. Not enough yet for a clear target, but it was Hauer, all right, and he was on the move toward them.

  Hauer was an impressive tracker, but Cole remembered that about him from the war. Grudgingly, Cole had to admire the man’s skill. Then again, they had been plowing through that woods, leaving a trail of broken branches and disturbed leaves. On the plus side, their trail was leading Hauer right into Cole’s rifle sights.

  He waited patiently. Hauer was moving cautiously so that he came closer ever so slowly. But as he did so, the screen of tree branches in front of
him diminished, giving Cole a clear shot.

  “He’s getting closer!” Danny whispered urgently.

  “I see him,” Cole said calmly.

  Still, he took his time, letting Hauer work his way in. Cole had the rifle balanced in his arms, his elbows locked into the forest floor, his legs spread out behind him. He felt the whole steadiness of the ground beneath him. Other than having the rifle placed across a log, this setup didn’t get any better.

  He let a breath out. Took in a deeper breath and held it.

  Cole was a hunter through and through. He never missed a day in the woods. Even so, he was out of practice for shooting at two-legged prey. He hesitated for just a moment before pressing the trigger.

  It wasn’t any fit of conscience. Cole had to admit that some part of him was enjoying having Hauer in his rifle sights just a little too much. For a marksman, this was the ultimate prey: another sniper. The moment before he fired was like some forbidden, delicious pleasure.

  “Pa Cole, what are you waiting for? Shoot!”

  Danny’s nervousness made his voice too loud. His voice carried through the quiet woods.

  Through the scope, Cole saw Hauer crouch and freeze. He had heard Danny.

  Hauer was searching the forest. Cole watched him through the scope as his gaze moved in their general direction. He was so close that Cole could see his face.

  Then Hauer did something totally unpredictable. Instead of obliging Cole by holding still, he charged through the forest, closing the distance between them.

  Cole did not hesitate any longer. His finger took up the last bit of pressure on the trigger.

  However, this was like shooting at the charging boar. The target did not hold steady but danced in the crosshairs, juking right and left in a way that the boar had not. Cole couldn’t get a fix on him.

  The rifle fired. Instantly, Cole ran the bolt and kept his eye on the scope, hoping for a second shot. He caught a glimpse of movement and fired again.

  Through the scope, Hauer was gone.

  “Did you get him?” Danny asked.

  “Hush now,” Cole said sharply. Danny had already given them away once.

  Seconds later, they had their answer. Cole’s luck must have run out with that boar.

  A rifle shot crashed through the trees. In the same instant, Cole felt a burning pain rip down the length of his right arm and shoulder.

  That son of a bitch Hauer had just shot him.

  Cole had the presence of mind to roll behind the tree before a second bullet passed through the space that he had occupied only an instant before.

  He switched the rifle to his left hand. His right arm was just about useless and already going numb. He wouldn’t be able to shoot back now.

  Danny saw the blood on his grandfather. He stared at the crimson flow in shock. “Pa Cole, you’ve been shot!”

  “Never mind that,” Cole said, struggling to his feet. “We’ve got to run!”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  They crashed through the forest, not caring how much noise they made.

  “Keep going,” Cole panted, urging Danny on. “We need to put some space between us and him.”

  “You think he’s coming after us?” Danny asked.

  “I know he is.”

  The only way to go was up. Hauer had cut them off from the valley and the only familiar territory they knew, forcing them up the mountain. It was also the only path to help and safety that Cole was aware of. What was beyond this mountain they were climbing? Another mountain. And maybe another beyond that. That was a lot of territory to cover before they had any hope of coming across a village or a road. Hauer had them right where he wanted them.

  Cole’s breath grew more ragged. The pain in his arm and shoulder increased as the shock wore off. Hauer’s bullet hadn’t gotten him, but a heart attack might at this rate. Good thing he had kept in shape hiking through the hills back home. He might be old, but he was a tough old bird.

  Even so, after a few minutes of pushing it as hard as they could, Cole had to stop. He bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

  “I’m too old for this shit,” he announced.

  Danny managed to grin in spite of everything. “When we get home, don’t let Gran hear you swear like that.”

  “Don’t you go telling her.” Cole liked the fact that Danny was making it sound like a given that they would be getting out of this mess. He handed the rifle to Danny. “Here now, take this and shoot down the hill.”

  “Do you see him?” There was nothing below them but trees.

  “No, but he won’t know that. He’ll slow down and take his time coming after us.”

  Danny shouldered the rifle and fired. The rifle boomed and echoed through the hills. He started to hand back the rifle, but Cole stopped him.

  “You hang onto that for now. I’ve only got one good arm.”

  Expending the shot in hopes of keeping Hauer’s pursuit slow and cautious had been a calculated risk, considering that Cole had a limited supply of ammunition. When Hans had procured the hunting rifle, he had brought along two magazines. Ten rounds total. Although rifles and shotguns were legal in Germany for hunting, ammunition was very limited and expensive. Hans had supplied ammunition adequate for a casual hunting trip, not a firefight. In heading to the woods, Cole had taken just one magazine. That had been all that he had ever needed on a hunting trip. He was now down to a few rounds. He was sure that Hauer had much, much more than that.

  He didn’t share his concerns with Danny, but Cole was worried. From here on out, each shot must count. In the end, Cole only needed one bullet—the one that he would use to kill Hauer. Growing up, he’d often gone hunting with one bullet. He would make it count.

  They kept climbing. The terrain grew increasingly rocky and rugged as they ascended the mountain slope. The slope increased, slowing their progress.

  “If we can get to the top of this hill, we can move along the ridge up there and then try to come back down circle around Hauer,” Cole said. “I’d like to get back to that valley if we can. If we can find that trail out of there, we can hoof it back to the lodge. With any luck, Hauer won’t be any the wiser and he’ll set up here, looking for us.”

  “We ought to see if we can make it look like we reached the top and went down the other side,” Danny said. “He’ll go that way, looking for us.”

  Cole nodded. “I always knew you were a Cole, through and through,” he said. “I should have thought of that myself.”

  With their goal in mind, they pushed harder toward the summit. The trees thinned out and Cole worried about being exposed, but Danny’s plan to make it look as if they had gone down the other side of the ridge was a good one. He just hoped that Hauer would fall for it—so far, the German had proved himself to be a good tracker.

  The ground became more treacherous because fallen leaves covered the rocks and small boulders, making their footing slippery and hiding good footing. They hadn’t gone more than another fifty feet when Danny suddenly cried out and fell. He lost his grip on the rifle, which clattered to the rocks.

  “It’s my ankle!” he said.

  Cole went to help him. Sure enough, his grandson’s foot had caught between two rocks that held it securely as a vise. With his left hand, he helped to work Danny’s boot free.

  “Can you put any weight on it?”

  Danny stood and hobbled for a few feet, his face wincing in pain. “Wow, that hurts. Is it broken?”

  “Let me see it a minute.” Cole felt the ankle, which was already beginning to swell. As best he could, Cole tugged the boot laces tight.

  “Ow! What are you doing? Shouldn’t we take that boot off?”

  “No, leave it on. Your ankle is sprained, most likely.” Cole thought the ankle might be broken, but he didn’t say that to Danny. Anyhow, a bad sprain was just as serious as a broken ankle. “The boot will give it some support. Sit down a minute and catch your breath.”

  Picking his way carefully over the rocks,
he made his way to where the rifle had fallen. Thankfully, the costly Leica scope wasn’t cracked. He checked to make sure that the muzzle was free of debris. The beautiful stock was now marred by a big scratch, but otherwise, the rifle seemed fine. This was a fancy customized version, but at its heart the Springfield was a tough nut to crack.

  Next, he sat down next to Danny and used the hunting knife to cut some strips of cloth from the tail of his shirt. Some he used to bind up Danny’s ankle. He handed the rest of the cloth strips to Danny and told him to bandage Cole’s wounded arm. They both had a long drink of water from the canteen, and then Cole announced it was time to keep moving.

  “I don’t think I can walk on that ankle.”

  “You ain’t got any choice,” Cole said. “Here, grab hold of my shoulder.”

  The two of them hobbled up the hill, struggling for each step, with Danny keeping weight off his ankle and Cole nursing his arm.

  “We’re a fine pair,” Cole said.

  “Now what?”

  “Let’s get to the top of this ridge and see if we can put Hauer off the trail, then hoof it out of here as best we can.” After that, Cole hated to admit it to Danny, but they were out of options. All that they could do was run and hide.

  They made their play to put Hauer on a false trail. By the time the sun was starting to sink below the hills, they had made it back down the mountain, making a wide loop to dodge Hauer.

  “Almost there,” Cole said, encouraging Danny.

  “Downhill isn’t any easier.” Danny grimaced. “Boy, this ankle hurts. Are you sure it’s not broken? I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”