Sniper's Justice (Caje Cole Book 9)

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by David Healey


  “I reckon,” Cole said. “I’ve got to say, this has been a long time coming.”

  Then he pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  In the aftermath of the final gunshot, a stillness settled over the valley, the forest, and the surrounding mountains. It was a peaceful quiet for a change, rather than a menacing silence. Cole breathed in the crisp morning air, saying a silent prayer of thanks that he and Danny were still alive.

  Hauer had been a goner, lung shot by Danny’s bullet, but Cole made sure that he was the one who finished him off. When the authorities asked, he could say with a straight face that he had been the one who killed Hauer.

  He turned his attention to the edge of the forest, where Danny was emerging, rifle at his side. Cole stood, smiling, waiting for him.

  “Good shooting,” Cole said.

  Danny looked shaken. “I shot him,” he said. “I just killed a man.”

  “You did what you had to do. It was self-defense—him or us,” Cole said. He reached for the rifle and took it in his good left hand. “Listen up now. We both know you did the right thing. I’m the one who did all the shooting, if anyone asks.”

  A thought seemed to occur to Danny. “You mean the police?”

  “I reckon someone might wonder how Hauer ended up dead. Considering that he’s shot in the back and all, they ain’t going to buy that it was suicide.”

  Danny looked down at the body. Hauer had been an imposing man in life, but in death he seemed to have shrunken.

  “He tried to kill us,” Danny stated, as if still trying to convince himself.

  “He surely tried, but that didn’t work out so well for him, now did it?” Cole took Danny by the elbow, steering him away from the body. “I’m proud of you, Danny. I know it’s not easy, but you can hold your head high. You did the right thing.”

  Danny nodded.

  “C’mon, now that Hauer’s not here to stop us anymore, let’s go see if we can find that trail out of this valley. I could use some coffee.”

  The thought of food seemed to snap Danny out of his trance. “And pancakes,” Danny said.

  “Hmm. Bacon, too.”

  “And some orange juice! My stomach is rumbling now, Pa Cole.”

  “All right then, let’s get out of here.”

  Together, they started toward the western neck of the valley.

  They were not alone for long.

  The stillness of the morning air was interrupted by the steady thup, thup, thup of an approaching helicopter. Soon enough, the aircraft came into sight, flying low.

  "You think they’re looking for us?” Danny asked.

  “Only one way to find out. Give ‘em a wave.”

  Danny did just that, using a big howdy motion that they called a hillbilly wave back home. Instead of continuing on its route, the helicopter flew lower and circled overhead.

  “I reckon they were looking for us, after all,” Cole said.

  Further confirmation arrived a few minutes later, when a couple of official-looking off-road vehicles came bouncing up the rough road into the valley. Several men and a couple of women got out, all wearing the bright red jackets of the mountain rescue team, known as le Peloton Gendarmerie de Haute Montagne. They gave Cole and Danny water, put new bandages on Cole’s arm, and much to Cole’s embarrassment, wrapped him in a shiny emergency blanket that looked as if it came off a spaceship.

  Another blanket was used to cover Hauer’s remains, which Cole had managed to point out to the team.

  But there was no return to the lodge just yet. They waited for an hour until yet another vehicle arrived, this one carrying two uniformed gendarmes and two plainclothes men who appeared to be detectives.

  The detectives clearly had not expected to be called into the forest that morning, because both wore dress shoes, overcoats, and suits, one with a tie and one without. It was not gear for the outdoors, and neither one seemed too inclined to venture very far from the vehicle. They lifted the blanket long enough to get a good look at Hauer, then one of them put on some gloves and picked up Hauer’s rifle. Eventually, they came back and asked Cole and Danny some questions. Soon, they left Danny alone and focused their attention on Cole.

  Cole had already made up his mind that he wasn’t going to try and explain that Hauer had tried to kill them. How could Cole ever prove that? Who would ever believe him?

  “I reckon I got confused,” Cole explained, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to come across as a feeble senior citizen. He hunched his shoulders under the blanket to seem more convincing. Never mind the fact that he resembled a rangy old wolf. “The light wasn’t good and I thought he was a stag. My eyes ain’t what they used to be.”

  Cole told the detectives that they had gotten lost after being separated from the group of hunters. Cole kept his explanation short, which was easy for him, being naturally a man of few words.

  The French gendarmes spoke English fluently. The two detectives, in addition to fluency in English, also had eyes like sharks. They seemed to see right through him, as if they had heard it all before, which they probably had. It was all an accident. One thing for certain—these men were not fools. They asked a lot of questions.

  “Did he shoot himself also?”

  Cole shrugged. “Maybe when he fell?”

  Leaving Cole, the two detectives moved off to one side and conferred, smoking cigarettes and speaking French in low tones, glancing in Cole’s direction from time to time. One of them had taken Hauer’s ID along with Cole’s, then sat in one of the vehicles, relaying the information.

  “Are they going to arrest us?” Danny whispered.

  “They seem a little hung up on the fact that he’s shot in the back and in the front with two different rifles,” Cole said. “It’s a mite confusing.”

  After a while, the detectives tossed away their cigarettes and marched purposefully toward Cole.

  “Did you know this man was former Stasi?” they asked. “The German authorities wanted to ask him some questions, it seems. He was a Nazi, perhaps a war criminal, and then a member of the East German Secret Police. He was not what you Americans would call a Boy Scout.”

  “News to me, son.”

  “We know about you, too. Some important people are very concerned about you. You were here during the war. You helped fight to free France. A war hero.”

  “Long time ago,” Cole said.

  “Some of us have long memories.” The one who seemed to be the senior detective pointed at Hauer’s body, then looked Cole right in the eye and announced, “Hunting accident.”

  Once that was settled, everybody seemed to relax. The senior detective produced a flask and they all had a nip—even Danny.

  “Don’t tell your gran,” Cole muttered, already feeling better as the alcohol and the shiny blanket warmed him.

  Then the people in the red jackets loaded up Hauer’s body and everybody bundled into the vehicles and drove slowly out of the valley.

  Cole glanced back once at the mountain peaks, oddly saddened to see them go.

  An ambulance waited to transport Cole to the hospital to be treated for his wounds. The rescue team had bandaged him up, but his arm and shoulder needed more expert medical attention. First, they had some other business to attend to. They gathered in the lodge lobby, near the big fire in the hearth, which helped to warm their chilled bones.

  Danny got a hug from Angela, and even a kiss right there in the middle of the lobby. Judging from the red blush that spread across his grandson’s face, Angela had warmed him up plenty.

  Hans was also waiting.

  “Hans, I’m sorry your rifle got a little banged up,” Cole said.

  “My friend, that is the least of anyone’s worries. I am glad that you are all right.”

  Hans explained how he had called Colonel Mulholland, who had pulled some strings so that a search-and-rescue operation was finally set into motion.

  “I have to thank you, Hans,” Cole said. “It would have been a l
ong walk back from that valley.”

  “What in the world happened?”

  Cole told the actual story, which was definitely not what he had related to the French police. Hans listened quietly. When Cole had finished, all that Hans said was, “I never trusted that Hauer.”

  “I should have listened to you,” Cole admitted. “But it’s all done now. He ain’t going to cause any more trouble.”

  “Now, you need to go to the hospital and see to that arm.”

  “Oh, it can wait,” Cole said. “Let’s all have some breakfast first.”

  Once Cole was back from the hospital and had recuperated for a couple of days, the two old soldiers had one last mission together. They made it alone, leaving Danny and Angela to their own devices. Cole felt that Danny needed some time just to be a kid and forget about what had happened.

  Danny had been quieter than usual as the enormity of what he had done sank in. Taking a life was never easy, even in self-defense. When Danny had retreated to his room to watch MTV and eat pizza, Cole had let him be, not sure what else he could say or do for his grandson. Cole was thankful that the upcoming day with Angela had snapped him out of his brooding.

  “Are you sure those two don’t need a chaperone?” Cole asked Hans. “Are you comfortable leaving your niece alone with my grandson? He is a teenage boy, after all.”

  Hans shrugged. “They are young,” he said. “Let them do what young people do. Besides, your grandson is a gentleman. The business we are attending to concerns the past. Let them enjoy the present.”

  “Amen to that,” Cole agreed.

  At the wheel of the Volvo again, Hans drove them down winding mountain roads to the village called Wingen sur Moder. The place was too far off the beaten path to be much of a tourist destination. Cole had been there forty years ago, but none of the modern roads approaching the village looked familiar. Nonetheless, it was a lovely village, set among the hills, with one of every shop that the villagers might need in this remote location. It was also small enough that the arrival of an automobile with German registration plates did not go unnoticed. A couple of old-timers scowled in their direction.

  “They noticed the car’s Nummernschilder,” Hans said, using the German slang for vehicle tags. “I do not think they like Germans very much.”

  “They’d be a lot less friendly if we had driven up in a Panzer.”

  “Good point,” Hans agreed.

  The looks that the foreign car received were in part because this village had not been so peaceful back in the winter of 1945. In January, German forces had pushed deep through this countryside as Operation Nordwind drove further into the Allied lines just as the Allies thought that the Battle of the Bulge had been won. Although it had little strategic value, this village had found itself caught in the middle of a battle that raged all around them. The battle had moved from the hills, to the narrow streets, and even into the houses themselves. The roar of tank engines, machine-gun fire, and individual rifle shots had shattered the mountain quiet. In addition to the soldiers on both sides, many villagers had died. Others had lost their homes and shops. It had taken the villagers many years to recover from the war’s devastation.

  At the village center, Hans parked the Volvo and got out with Cole. The village itself looked much as Cole remembered it. Several more trees had been planted, however, softening the street. The cobblestones were gone, replaced by modern paving with parking spaces marked in bright paint.

  A few of the older villagers noticed them, and now that Cole and Hans had left the car with German tags behind, nodded in grim acknowledgment. They knew well enough why two old strangers were here. These aging villagers still remembered that day many years before.

  The smell of woodsmoke transported him to another time and place. Cole stood thoughtfully, remembering the fight that had taken place there. He was lost for a moment in the sounds of battle, rifles firing, the ratatatat of machine guns, even the deep boom of tanks and mortars.

  He glanced up at the church steeple, seeing what a clear shot Hauer must have had. It all seemed like yesterday.

  With an effort, he shook his head to clear it and return to the present. The flashback had been so intense that he was startled to find the village so quiet and calm. A few people strolled the sidewalks, bundled against the chill autumn air, chatting quietly.

  Hans had been watching him, but the old German soldier made no comment. Perhaps he had been lost in his own memories as well. Both men realized that as their generation faded, so would the last living memories of that war vanish.

  They made their way to the small stone monument near the church that marked the graves of those who had died during the battle. Years before, a marker had been placed with the names engraved on it of the U.S. soldiers who had given their lives there. Cole didn’t know the name of the young soldier who had died at the side of the nun, but surely his name was included. Cole had brought along a small American flag, which he now placed at the foot of the marker.

  Then he moved on to the second marker, on which the names of villagers who had died in the fight were written. He had left his cheaters in the damn car, so he had to get on his knees to read the names. He quickly spotted Sister Anne Marie’s name among the fallen.

  Of course, Cole hadn’t known her beyond that brief meeting all those years ago. But she had clearly been a selfless young woman, called to serve a greater good by helping the American prisoners. One more life lost among many. Hauer had murdered her, plain and simple. A few days ago, Cole had finally been able to deliver his final sniper’s justice.

  Still kneeling, he placed a single rose into the cold ground. For you, Sister.

  Cole got to his feet, feeling the ache in his arm from that last fight. Hans stood a few feet away, his eyes closed, evidently offering a silent prayer. When he was finished, he crossed himself.

  “For the nun?” Cole asked.

  “For us all, my friend.”

  The two old soldiers headed back to the car, their mission done. They drove back without saying much, both lost in thought.

  After Hans dropped him at the hotel, Cole was still in the lobby when Danny came through the revolving doors. He was alone but smiling, apple-cheeked from the crisp air. It was hard to believe this was the same young man who, just days before, had been hungry and haggard, fighting for his life. The young were so resilient. Cole felt proud just at the sight of his grandson.

  “I thought you’d be out with Angela,” Cole said.

  “We had a great time,” he said. “We went ice skating and had the best hot chocolate you ever tasted. Germans make the best hot chocolate. It’s not like that powdered stuff back home, that’s for sure. Angela has to go back home to her family tomorrow. And she’s got school. I might not see her again for a while. Maybe I’ll come back this summer, if I can save up some money.”

  “Maybe,” Cole agreed. “Well, what do you want to do next?”

  “Pa Cole, this has been a great trip, but I think it’s time to get back.”

  Cole gripped Danny’s shoulder with his good hand and grinned. “You know what? I’m thinking the same thing. I reckon we ought to get back home and see how Gran is doing.”

  ~The End~

  Coming soon: Pacific Sniper

  About the Author

  David Healey lives in Maryland where he worked as a journalist for more than twenty years. He is a member of the International Thriller Writers and a contributing editor to The Big Thrill magazine. Join his newsletter list at:

  www.davidhealeyauthor.com

  or

  www.facebook.com/david.healey.books

  Also by David Healey

  Other Caje Cole books by David Healey that you may enjoy:

  GHOST SNIPER

  American hunter Caje Cole and German marksman Kurt Von Stenger first encounter one another in the wake of the D-Day invasion, playing a deadly game of cat and mouse across the hedgerow country of Normandy.

  Please click here to learn more at the Am
azon store.

  IRON SNIPER

  When German sniper Dieter Rohde’s older brother is unjustly shot for desertion by the SS, he will stop at nothing to win the Iron Cross medal and redeem his family’s name by targeting as many Allied troops as possible. The German sniper’s efforts bring him into direct confrontation with Caje Cole. As the final pitched battle for France takes place around them at the Falaise Gap, these two snipers declare war on each other.

  Please click here to learn more at the Amazon store.

  GODS & SNIPERS

  Two patrols cobbled together from the survivors of the Falaise Gap—one American unit, one German—find themselves in a small French village on the banks of the Moselle River. Both sides want possession of the ancient bridge across the Moselle, and the result will be an epic showdown that pits general against general, and sniper against sniper.

  Please click here to learn more at the Amazon store.

  ARDENNES SNIPER

  As German forces launch a massive surprise attack through the frozen Ardennes Forest, Caje Cole and Kurt Von Stenger find themselves aiming for a rematch. Having been in each other’s crosshairs before, they fight a final duel during Germany’s desperate attempt to turn the tide of war in what will come to be known as the Battle of the Bulge.

  Please click here to learn more at the Amazon store.

  RED SNIPER

  Red Sniper is the story of a rescue mission for American POWs held captive by the Russians at the end of World War II. Abandoned by their country, used as political pawns by Stalin, their last hope for getting home again is backwoods sniper Caje Cole and a team of combat veterans who undertake a daring rescue mission prompted by a U.S. Senator whose grandson is among the captives. In a final encounter that tests Cole’s skills to the limit, he will discover that forces within the U.S. government want the very existence of these prisoners kept secret at any price.

 

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