Satisfied that the man was dead, Hale moved on to the slumbering form that lay on the ground beside him. He repeated this process over and over, until the entire squad of soldiers lay dead around the fire. Each time Hale drew a blade across a throat and committed murder against a defenseless man, a small piece of his innocence left him, How many more will I have to kill to get them to leave us in peace? How many will it take to keep Nea safe?
His grisly task complete, the troubled Finn quickly searched the bodies. He found several bottles of vodka amongst them, but most importantly six of the Russian grenades the RGD 33. He smiled at the thoughts of mayhem he could create with six of them. Hale slipped the handles of each one into his belt.
Turning in Maki’s direction, he saw the Lieutenant’s outline against the moonlight about fifty feet away. He’s still covering me. Hale looked up at the nearby truck. Within the truck’s cab, lay two men fast asleep.
The truck gave a steady low tone rumble as it idled. Like the dozens of other Gaz-MM trucks Hale had seen in the last few days, this one had a large red star paint on the driver’s door. Glancing at the rear of the truck his eyes settled on the rusty tail pipe. He saw a steady stream of exhaust fumes floating upward into the icy night air. With the driver sitting right on the horn it would be too risky to open the door and try to kill the two men inside the cab. I’ll accomplish more, by finding another camp site.
Hale looked down the road toward the south. About twenty feet away, lay another truck. Beside the truck, next to the road, another camp fire blazed. This campfire also had eight bodies huddling for warmth clustered around it.
Hale slowly crept toward the group of men huddled around the campfire. As he drew near, one of the men coughed violently and sat up. Several of the other men groaned at the noise. Hale, fearing discovery, crouched low and ducked in-between the two trucks. As he waited for the man, who again let out a long string of violent coughs, to settle back down, he basked in the warmth the engine was producing.
As the young sniper waited, his heart pounded in his chest as his confidence waned, Did someone see me? Are they even now surrounding me? Calming his panicked thoughts, his mind shifted to his perceived ill fortune. Just my luck, this squad has a man with consumption keeping them awake. I’ll need to kill him first.
Hale crouched behind the engine for what felt like an eternity. In actuality it was perhaps ten minutes before the tell-tale sound of steady breathing took hold of the group, but to him it felt like an eternity of uncertainty and fear. They have fallen back asleep.
Satisfied that everyone had fallen back asleep, Hale began his slow creep toward the man with tuberculosis. He was extremely careful not make a sound as he carefully placed each step in the snow. This time, instead of killing the nearest slumbering Soviet, he circled around the group asleep around the camp fire. As he reached his chosen victim, one of the men on the other side of the fire awoke, saw Hale looming over his comrade, and yelled, “Narushitel!”
Without hesitation Hale, plunged his blade into his target, and took a step back. As he did so, he pulled his pistol from its holster and a put a bullet into the yelling man’s face to silence him. He then jerked a grenade lose from his belt, twisted the top half until he felt the click, and dropped it into the middle of the camp site. The desperate sniper then turned to run in the direction of the tree line.
The sound of automatic weapons fire erupted as Maki laid down some fire to cover Hale’s retreat. Hale could hear the buzz of Maki’s bullets as they flew past him. As his mental count reached ten, he threw himself to the ground as the grenade he left in the camp site exploded. Several of the Russians had stood and started fumbling with their rifles to take a shot at Hale. These men were instantly cut down by the expanding cloud of shrapnel from the exploding grenade.
Hale jumped back to his feet and ran as fast as his legs would carry him through the snow. Looking over his shoulder he saw the men from the next campsite down the line stirring and looking about in confusion. He stopped and pulled his rifle from his shoulder. As he took aim, Maki’s gun barked out a series of shots. Several of the men were cut down, the rest threw themselves to the ground.
Hale jerked another of the grenades free from his belt, pulled the pin, and threw it. His throw was a little short. He slung the rifle back onto his shoulder and resumed his awkward run through the deep snow. As he reached the relative safety of the tree line, the grenade exploded sending shrapnel into the enemies that hadn’t been cut down by Maki.
Covered by the trees, Hale turned to observe another group of Russians up the road to the north as they emerged from their slumber and looked about in confusion. Hale took aim with his rifle and put a bullet into one of the men. The enemy soldier clutched his chest and fell backwards from the force of the bullet. The other men of the squad paused and looked at their comrade as his body fell back into their campfire. Their wide eyes full of shock and surprise.
The flames quickly took hold on the fabric of his greatcoat. As he turned into a writhing fireball, his screams filled the night air. Maki’s gun erupted and cut down the men gawking at their burning squad mate. Hale, threw his rifle onto his shoulder and began pushing through the snow as quickly as possible. His breath began to come in ragged gasps as his Lieutenant fell in beside him.
Looking back to check behind them, Maki looked at Hale and said, “Great work, I think we must have killed around thirty of the bastards.”
Hale smiled at the compliment, “What now?”
“Let’s get to our skis and packs. After that we’ll travel further north towards the village and engage them again. This column stretches for miles, so we can rinse and repeat this tactic several times before dawn.” Maki replied.
“Won’t they all be roused now?” Hale questioned.
“Perhaps, but we have to try. If we can’t get close enough to take out a few more squads, then at least we are keeping the bastards up all night.” Maki replied.
“True, that will make them less effective tomorrow morning when they attack the village.” Hale said.
Maki smiled, “Exactly.”
The two men found the path that they had created earlier to reach the road and began to make better time. A few minutes later they were back at the tree that held their packs. Leaning up against it was their two sets of skis.
The two men, exhausted from their recent ordeal, rested for several minutes. Over the course of several minutes, their breathing went from ragged gulps, to deep breathes, and then finally slowed back to normal.
Satisfied that they had adequately recovered, the Lieutenant said, “Let’s get our skis on and move about half a mile north.”
“Then we hit them again?” Hale asked.
Maki nodded, “Yes.” He gestured toward Hale’s belt, “I see that you came away with several prizes. Perhaps this time, instead of sneaking into individual camps, you can just toss two or three of those at the camp sites.”
“Won’t we need these later for the defense of the village?” Hale wondered.
“They would certainly help, but I need you alive more than anything.” Maki replied.
Hale didn’t reply. The two men skied in silence for about twenty minutes until the Lieutenant broke the silence, “This is far enough. Let’s head toward the road. This time let’s keep our skis on so we can make a faster getaway.”
Hale nodded, “Yes sir.”
The pair turned toward the east and continued skiing. After about a quarter of a mile, Hale held up his right fist and the two men stopped. The pair spent several minutes listening. Like before, the sounds of the idling engines filled their ears. Conspicuously absent, despite their proximity to the road, was the noise of boots crunching on the snow made.
Turning to his commanding officer Hale said, “If we get much closer with the skis, we may be heard over the noise of the engine.”
“Very well. We can leave them here. I just don’t relish the idea of having to push through the snow to get away again.” Maki replie
d.
“I relish even less, getting shot by an alert guard.” Hale fire back.
The two men quickly unclipped their boots. They leaned their two pairs of skis up against a tree, “Perhaps we should hang our packs again so we can find them quickly?” The Lieutenant said.
“Agreed. I don’t relish the idea of trying to make a get away with this weight on my back.” Hale said.
The two men quickly hung their packs from the tree that they had leaned their skis up against. Maki asked, “Same as before?”
“Yeah, except this time, once we are inside the perimeter, I’ll do as you suggested. Tossing a few grenades at the camp sites should get them all stirred up.
“And missing out on sleep.” Maki added.
“Exactly, then I’ll make a break for it.” Hale replied.
“Sounds good. Let’s get moving. I want to be able to do this one more time before dawn.” Maki said.
Hale nodded and turned toward the sound of idling engines. He slowly crept forward, careful not to make any sounds. After a few hundred feet, he raised up his right hand and clenched it into a fist again.
About fifty feet ahead was a figured outlined by the moonlight. Hale pointed at Maki and then pointed at the ground to indicate for him to stay there. Maki nodded in understanding and carefully pulled his PPD 34 from his shoulder.
Hale moved off to the north, he slowly angled his toward the road. He was careful to keep the trees between him and the guard. Wanting to ensure all was well, he would pause every few dozen feet and just listen for several minutes. Each time he paused the only sound he could hear was that of the engines droning in the distance.
Finally, he drew parallel to the Soviet standing guard. Satisfied that he hadn’t been spotted, Hale slowly crept from tree to tree, as he drew closer to his intended victim. This one, was a lot quieter than the smoker Hale had snuck up on and slain earlier. Catching wind of something amiss, the guard turned in the direction of Hale and said, “Privet?”
Hale stopped moving. His heart thundered in his ears as he waited for the enemy soldier to make the next move.
“Ya slyshal, ty perestal igrat’ v igry.” The man said as he pulled his rifle off his shoulder.
Hale inwardly cursed as his mind raced, I think that last word was games. He thinks I am a friend trying to play tricks on him. What do I do? Anything I try is going to make noise.
The young Finn quickly ran through his options in his head, I could shoot him, but that would make too much noise. Using a grenade would definitely make noise. Pukkos make terrible throwing knives, besides in this darkness I’d probably miss anyways. His mind went back to the class on basic Russian. There was one phrase that might work.
Staying hidden, Hale said in his best imitation of a Russian accent, “Pomogi mne.”
The Russian wasn’t buying it, he squared his shoulder, raised his rifle, and said, “Pokazhi sebya.”
Oh for fucks sake screw it! Hale raged. He stepped out from behind the tree with his pistol raised and put a bullet in the man’s face.
Before the Soviet’s corpse hit the ground, Hale was running toward the road. He could hear several whistles being blown to rouse the men from their sleep. Reaching the edge of the tree line, he saw several different squads standing around their campfires. The light from the fires revealed looks of confusion on many of their faces as they hastily prepared their rifles for combat.
Hale pulled a grenade from his belt, twisted the cap, and threw it at the nearest campfire. He repeated this motion two more times, hurling the grenades at the campsites on either side of the first. Without waiting to see the results, he turned and ran toward Maki. Frantic screaming erupted from the first campsite as the Russians quickly realized what had flown out of the darkness and landed amongst them.
Before Hale could get five feet through the deep snow, the first grenade erupted cutting down several of the soldiers. A few moments later, the second and third grenades exploded, adding to the chaos and the victim count.
A few moments later, he reached Lieutenant Maki, “Well that was sloppy.”
“The damn sentry was too alert. I had to shoot the fucker.” Hale replied testily.
“Did you get any more besides the sentry?” The Lieutenant asked.
“Yeah, I should have gotten several with the grenades.” Hale replied.
Gunfire erupted from the direction of the Soviet column. Maki threw a glance in that direction and said, “We’d best get going, before they start heading in this direction.”
Hale gestured toward the west, “Lead on.”
The two Finns made their way back to the spot where they had left their skis and packs. They hastily buckled their boots to the skis, placed their packs on their backs and set off to the west. Back on the road, the Russian officers had finally managed to organize the chaos into a semblance of order and sent several squads toward the location they suspected Hale to be.
By the time this was accomplished Hale and Maki were a mile away and turning toward the north. The two men skied in silence across the countryside. As the chaos they caused faded away behind them, the only two sounds Hale could hear was his own breathing and the noise his skis made. After nearly an hour, Hale turned toward Maki and broke the silence, “How much further is the village?”
“About two to three miles by my reckoning.” Maki replied.
“Then shouldn’t we be hitting them here? Before we get to much closer.” Hale asked.
Maki stopped and pulled a map from inside his coat. He frowned as he struggled to read the map in the fading moonlight, “The moon is setting, I can’t see the map.”
Hale pulled out a box of matches, turned his back toward the road to conceal what he was about to do, and struck one. Careful to keep it lit, he protected the flame by cupping his hand around it and held it over the map, “Thanks” The Lieutenant said.
“Well?” Hale impatiently snapped.
Maki flashed Hale a glare and stabbed an index finger at a spot on the map, “I believe we are here.”
Hale stared at the map for a moment, “That puts us about three miles south west of Kivennapa.”
Maki nodded, “Exactly, so as you say, we need to go ahead and hit them here.”
Hale cast a glance in the direction of the moon, “The moon is setting. That means dawn isn’t far off. How much time do we have?”
Maki pulled up the left sleeve of his coat, and then several more layers of clothing underneath until he found his wrist watch, “About two hours until dawn.”
“How shall I attack this time? I’ve got three grenades left.” Hale said.
“I would say to try and conserve at least one for our attack on the group assaulting the village.” The Lieutenant replied.
“Very well that sounds prudent. I think that I should try sneaking up on them all the way again. Perhaps I can find more grenades.” Hale said.
Maki made eye contact and placed a hand on Hale’s shoulder, “Just be careful. With our previous two attacks, the guards are probably very alert. Not to mention the fact that dawn is near.”
Hale gave Maki a reassuring smile, “Piece of cake, let’s get going.”
The two men turned their skis toward the Soviet column that resided on the road and began moving. They skied in silence for about ten minutes before Hale raised his right fist into the air. He turned to Maki and whispered, “I think this is close enough. Let’s lose the skis.”
Maki nodded and the two men removed their skis. They leaned them up against a stout looking birch tree and carefully hung their packs from two of the mighty tree’s lower branches. Maki, pulled his PPD 34 from his shoulder, and checked the weapon to ensure all was in readiness.
Hale slowly crept forward toward the sound of the idling engines. The moon had set, so there wasn’t as much light to see by. He grew more and more nervous as he made his way further and further eastward without spotting a guard, The two previous times, I would been past the guard by now. Where is he?
Ha
le’s thought was answered by a shadow up ahead blocking the flicking light from the camp fires off in the distance. There he is. Why is he so close to the camp?
Hale concealed himself behind a tree and observed the guard for several minutes. He doesn’t appear to be moving. I guess I can try sneaking up on him, but if he alerts, and I’m that close to the road, I’m fucked.
Gritting his teeth, Hale made his way slowly toward the guard. Just like he did the last time he approached a guard, the young Finn angled to go around the man, instead of heading right toward him. As Hale drew closer, he saw, that the guard’s back was turned toward him, If he stays where he is at, this is going to be easy.
Hale slowly crept up behind the man. A moment before he reached the guard, the man started to whirl around, and grab for the whistle hanging around his neck, Too late. Hale thought. He a stuck hand over the man’s mouth, and used his other to drag the sharp edge of his pukko blade across the man’s neck.
The Russian struggled for several moments as his lifeblood flowed out and dripped onto the snow below him. Satisfied that the life had left him, Hale slowly lowered the corpse to the ground. He quickly rifled through his victim’s pockets. As before on a perimeter guard, he didn’t find any vodka. Instead of the alcohol he coveted, he managed to find a pocketful of 7.62mm bullets and a pack of Russian cigarettes.
He pocketed the cigarettes, wiped his blade on the man’s green pants, and carefully removed his overcoat. He pulled the coat on to conceal his own white one that gave him away as a Finn and set off toward the nearby road.
Like before, he spied several figures huddled around the flickering light of the campfires. The campfires were near the road close to the idling olive drab green Gaz-MM transport trucks. Each group of sleeping Soviets, were arrayed in a tight circle around the small source of heat. They used the warmth being cast by the crackling flames and each other, in an attempt to stay warm in the sub-zero temperatures.
Hale quietly tiptoed up to the closest group of slumbering soldiers, careful not to make any sound as he approached. Luckily this group didn’t have a cougher, and all seemed to be in a deep slumber. He reached the closest man, put his hand over the man’s mouth, and with a quick jerk of his arm, ended the nameless Russian’s war forever.
The Winter Sniper Page 12
