We heard a few more gunshots—some even sounded like they came from up the mountain. There was some yelling nearby and one more gunshot. Then silence. The soldiers would be coming back soon. “Ready?” I looked Flynn in the eyes.
“Right behind you,” she replied.
We began crawling again toward the looming tree line. We were no more than twenty yards from cover when one more loud gunshot echoed through the clearing from up the hill. I flinched but felt nothing, and I didn’t hear the bullet hit anywhere near us. I glanced back at Flynn. “You okay?”
“Yes.”
We scrambled forward faster. How could they have missed us? We were barely moving. How did we get so lucky?
THIRTY-THREE – Sniper Hunt (Danny)
Luck had nothing to do with it.
The snipers were still on the hill above the clearing, but they were dead. Blake, Keena, and I had been running east along the ridgeline when we heard the first two gunshots and saw the flashes about a mile ahead of us on a higher ridgeline. That was the first sign we’d seen of the paratroopers that had fallen from the sky. But what the heck are they shooting at? We’re up here.
My best guess was they’d taken up a perch over an open valley, hoping to catch the three of us passing below. But someone else had crossed into their line of fire, potentially even multiple subjects, and the snipers had taken them out. People? Animals? There was no way of knowing from here. Has to be people. You’d have to be stupid to give away your location for animals. Now, they’d essentially put neon signs on themselves, taking the challenge out of this high-stakes game of hide-and-seek. Well, most of the challenge.
As we approached the snipers, Blake handed me Keena’s rifle. With the night scope I could make out four snipers set up in the rocks and focused in on the valley below. As I was about to turn and indicate that number to Blake and Keena, a slight movement to the left caught my eye. Someone sat up from behind a rock and appeared to be talking to one of the snipers.
“Blake, there are at least five guys—perhaps more.”
“Danny, we’ve got a rifle, a handgun, and a knife.” Blake left the comparative imbalance unmentioned.
“I know.” I looked around. “Blake, this isn’t the kind of stuff I’ve trained you in. Hand-to-hand combat I mean. Keena, I’m sure you’ve got sufficient training, but I think I need to go in alone.” I handed Blake the rifle. “I’ll take the night-vision goggles. You watch through the rifle. Any shot you fire will echo through the valley like a cannon. But if I raise my left hand, you shoot any of those guys you can. Got it?”
“Left hand. Yep.”
I appreciated that he wasn’t going to argue with my plan. I was sure he didn’t like the idea of me walking into this one-on-however-many, but stealth was critical now. It made the most sense to take this approach.
Keena, on the other hand, objected. “Danny, what happens if you get caught?”
“Keena, we saw a couple hundred of these guys fall out of the sky. The forest down there is probably crawling with them. We saw the smoke from the fires…we know they’re down there. They’re waiting for us. This is our best chance to take away their advantage.”
She nodded but remained quiet.
“You okay with me taking the Springfield?” She nodded again and handed me the pistol. “All right then.” I took a deep breath and fist bumped each of them.
I climbed up the back side of the ridgeline, just out of sight of the snipers, until I was directly behind—and above—them. I slithered up to where I could look straight down on them and sure enough, there were eight men in all. Three sleeping, one on a radio, and four snipers zoned in on the valley. It had been almost an hour since the first two shots had been fired. My watch read 12:18 a.m.
The man on the radio finished his communication and walked over to a bush. He unzipped his pants for a leak he never got to take. I doubt he even felt the blade touch his throat. I slowly lowered him to the ground and slunk over to the three sleeping men. Three more quick slices, three fewer threats. I signaled in Blake’s direction—with my right hand—four down. He was a good two hundred yards away—and my night-vision goggles had a range of about fifty yards, so I couldn’t see him. But I was certain he was watching me. Hopefully he was moving my way.
I slowly slid down the slope behind one of the snipers. I had the knife poised to slice when gunfire erupted in the valley. The sniper jumped—startled—and his sudden movement caught me off guard. The knife slashed his shoulder, and he yelped in pain, jumping to his feet and plowing back into me. I fell back—off-balance—and noticed we had unfortunately gained the attention of the other three snipers. They were running towards us, trying to get a clear shot at me.
The gunfire continued in the valley as I wrestled with the large man now pinning me down. He was much stronger than I was and had better leverage, but I had his arms locked and he couldn’t reach his own gun or knife. I saw one of the men pass us and run up the slope. He’s heading for the radio. Come on, Blake. On cue, I heard the echo of a gunshot reverberate across the ridge. Then another. Then one more. Did Blake miss? Twice? The two men approaching to help the guy wrestling me froze as their friend who had run up the slope came tumbling back down—dead.
I was able to get my knee up into the gut of the man on top of me as he wrenched the knife from my hand. I kicked him off me, and we each drew our sidearm simultaneously. His first shot missed my head as I rolled and put two in his chest. He flipped backward over a rock and fell hard—and pretty far. Another two gunshots from Blake mixed with the barrage in the valley as another sniper died. One left. How is Blake missing these guys?
I couldn’t see the last sniper. No doubt he’d found a rock to hide behind. As hard as it was for me to lie still, I knew Blake was looking for him too. If this sniper was trained as I’d been, he was waiting for me to move—to be visible. He was also aware another gun out there had taken his comrades out at long range. One of us would make the first mistake—our last mistake.
From my prone position I motioned for Blake to keep moving toward me along the upper ridgeline. He had to get a different angle on the hidden sniper. There was another volley of gunfire in the valley below us, some yelling, and then a single shot. Eerie silence followed. I was afraid to move.
A few minutes later, Blake had a lock on the missing sniper. His final shot chattered across the ridgeline and through the valley. As soon as I knew for sure the soldier was dead, I grabbed one of the enemy sniper rifles and turned it on the valley, trying to find the reason for all the gunfire. The troops had been fighting someone down there—I could see torches and flashlights moving through the trees. Maybe even Lazzo and Hayley. I saw some troops run out into the open rock field, but there was no sign of Hayley—or Lazzo. Soon those troops would be radioing up here and would find out their sniper support was gone. We had to keep moving toward Knights Peak.