Black Market Merchant

Chapter 187: Dusty Shots
“This was not just a simple raid.” Stiches coughed angrily as she made her way down to the next floor. The dust was hanging thickly and barely dissipating in the claustrophobic building. “Those Mad Dogs are pulling out the big guns this time and we are probably in for a long fight. I wonder, why are they choosing now to invade us? Our mole was totally useless this time.”

She had just come from whistling in reply to Steel Fists call and was now making a move to a new spot to snipe from. They were caught off guard by the unforeseen mortar barrage and many of her forces were already killed out. Looking ahead of her at those going to the lower levels Stiches guessed that just over half of them were left. Those that were left looked battered, shellshocked, and in poor spirits.

“This is stupid!” Stitches shouted drawing the attention of many nearby. “We are supposed to be the support on the backlines and take fewer damages than Steel Fists’ group. I want all of you to be sure to pay the Mad Dogs back tenfold for doing this to us. You hear me? We are not done yet!”

The Skull with her gave out a half-hearted cheer and the filed on resolutely onwards. Reaching the fifteenth floor of what used to be a thirty-story building, they split into three groups. Stitches and the few others with snipers or long ranged rifles stayed on the fifteenth floor. The second and largest group went to the fourteenth and thirteenth floors to do likewise. They were armed with more standard rifles or LMGs. While the third group, made up of mostly the wounded, made their way back down to the bottom floors to rest.

Stiches stayed against the back most wall, away from the side where the mortars had struck at the building before and found a fully glass walled corner office that overlooked the streets and intersection below. From here she could also see most of the windows of the building Steel Fist had gone into. Pushing an office desk next to the window Stitches prepared a place to shoot from.

Raising her sniper rifle up to her icy blue eye, she looked down its half meter scope at the building to spot any signs of movement. Stitches was using a rare laser sniper rifle that she had confiscated from an idiot merchant that didn’t fully understand what he had in his possession. All it cost her was one well-placed crowbar to his head.

This beautiful, deep black, and red accented laser sniper was called a Lithium-ion Composite Sniper Rifle Thirty Second updated model or LCSR-32. Like the ZKZM-7000, this gun was sleek and streamline with a waterproof looking design made with the latest carbon fibers and military grade plastics. However, rather than one lithium battery, this sniper had two. This allowed the laser to remain powerful enough to puncture glass, bodies, and even light vehicle armor at any distance under two kilometers with no loss in effectiveness. The clear downside was its weight, and the barrel length was also doubled to disperse the heat generated, thus why the LCRS-32 is considered a sniper class weapon.

What made it stand out the most was the interchangeable mode scope. The scope featured a multi-variable zoom, thermal vision, various night vison modes, a target tracking probability feature, and even an ally verse enemy identification feature to minimize friendly fire. For hundreds of years, it used to be that all these features were packed onto the helmet mounted goggles of foot soldiers with multiple attachments. This scope design saved all the trouble of switching between goggles and settings with just simply flipping between dials.

Stitches was using the thermal vison to spot what floor the Mad Dogs were cowering on and found that they were on the nineth floor. Even with the thick dust floating in the air, both in and outside the building, the thermal vision was completely unfazed. Even if the dust were three times as thick, the thermal vision of the advanced sniper scope would remain unfazed.

Also, even though she was on the fifteenth floor and with a height advantage, as all snipers should have, seeing too the back of that floor was not an easy task. It was also clear to her that the Mad Dogs were trying to block up much of her view of the inside with random objects. However, their efforts were useless against her LCSR-32.

“Ready to kill something, Lady?” Stitches said patting fondly on her sniper’s stock.

Still looking into the nineth floor with the thermal vison, Stiches took aim at a large orange and yellow figure standing in an open area of the windows. Smiling at the fool, Stitches pulled the trigger.

There was no recoil, no sound, no flash and most certainly no laser trail to give her position away. The laser projectile cut cleanly, leaving a perfect circular hole, through the windows of both the building she was in and the where the unlucky Mad Dog was standing. The orange and yellow figure in her sight flopped slowly onto the floor, dead with a hole through the head. The whole process was silently executed, basically an assassin’s wet dream weapon.

Zooming out for a new target, Stitches saw that the rest of the orange and yellow Mad Dog figures had seen the results of Lady’s handywork and were scattering for cover. Though without knowing where the shot came from many hid in plain sight of her. Pressing a button mounted into her snipers foregrip she marked their locations, and a square box outlined the targets even if they moved locations.

“Easy pickings now.” Stitches mused to Lady.

In mere seconds four more Mad Dogs were gun downed in pure silent assassination. Each target took only one shot and they needed to be killed with one shot too. Stiches had a limited amount of energy to spare in her sniper’s batteries, so each shot must count. This drawback also made her into one of the deadliest snipers in this lawless zone.

As she went to find the next marked target, Stitches noticed that the figures were moving towards the southern side of the building and out of her sight. They either knew where her shots were coming from, or Steel Fist was engaging them, and they were trying to stop him. In either case, her job was nearing its end. Not many had been able to ward off Steel Fist’s attacks.

Lowering her sniper onto the desk and brushing back her blond, bradded hair behind her ears, Stitches caught sight of something big moving towards her location coming from the direction the dock. Picking back up the sniper and switching to normal view, she saw an odd sight; five dumpsters were rolling up the hill in the middle of the road.

“What now?” Stiches murmured.

There was only one possibility, the Mad Dog reinforcements had arrived. Stitches then picked up Lady and marched out onto the fifteenth floor in a hurried fashion. Going from room to room she shouted out orders to the Skull that had already gotten into their new positions long ago.

“We got company! Take aim at the street below but keep an eye on the windows across from you. The Mad Dogs will soon see where we are shooting from and retaliate. We cannot rely on Steel Fists men to distract every Mad Dog out there! Time to get your revenge.”

…

“Zzzzipp!”

The angry buzzing of a bullet whizzed overhead of the Mad Dogs, this time striking the wall on the left side of the road. Instinctively, all the Mad Dogs ducked as low as they could behind the closest dumpster. There wasn’t much room left to hide as the snipers were steadily getting a better angle to shoot with every step they took.

Ernest scoffed seeing their reactions. “Come on guys, these guys are crap shots. Look, they only managed to kill four of us.”

Behind them, lying in the street were the four bodies of their fallen comrades. The way Ernest so casually pointed out their sacrifice was off-putting. However, no one tried to counter him.

Peering around the dumpsters edge Ernest explained his plan, “Alright, looks like we are only a dozen meters from the back of the buildings the barge three guys are in. We are going to make a break from here to the buildings and get inside. There we can make our way up the building to be able to counter the Skull and regroup for the next push.”

“Can’t we keep pushing the dumpsters closer? There is no cover out there.” One of the gagsters asked.

Ernest rolled his eyes and sighed. “We could do that, but that would give the snipers a better angle to pick us off one by one. These rusty wheels are too slow.”

Then as if to put an exclamation point on his remark, three more bullets pinged off the roof of his dumpster, narrowly missing their heads.

“See.” Ernest said matter-of-factly. “We all have a better shot making a quick run for the walls. Any other questions?”

No one replied. They only looked at each other uneasily, unsure what might be the next best move. Then from across the intersection, a noise drew their attention. Three long shrill whistles sounded out from high above them.

“That’s our cue!” Ernest shouted. “The Skull are making some kind of move and I don’t know what that may be. Go now, go, go!”

Breaking out from their cover behind the dumpsters the Mad Dogs dashed for the alley ways between the building ahead. Immediately they became under fire from the snipers and machine guns waiting for them across the street. In the few seconds it took to cross the distance thirty or more Mad Dogs we killed. Yet they made it into the building and found the Skull were waiting for them.

However, the whistle was not only heard by the Mad Dogs but also by the intended receiver of the call, Steel Fist. Amidst the gunfire, screams and chaos of the battle raging in the southern stairwell, he heard those three whistles.

Gritting his teeth with disappointment, Steel Fist knew what that signal meant. It was time to retreat and at the most unfortunate of times too. They had reached the nineth floor, overrunning the stairwell defenses, and muscling their way onto the floor to engage the trapped Mad Dogs. All they need to do was force the Mad Dogs back against the windows and pick them off from both sides as the snipers would be able to assist in the battle once again.

Rile was doing his best to handle the dire situation. With his rifle he was able to shoot many Skulls, wounding or killing them. The rest of the Mad Dogs were emboldened by his actions and were giving the Skull a run for their money; however, the end was becoming clear. Even as the psychotic Krill and the rest of the northern stairwell defenders joined in the fray; they knew they were not going to make it.

Bullets whizzed behind them through the shattered glass that was cascading around them like snowfall. Sparks flew off the Skull’s shields like fireworks at a festival. Chunks of wood, concrete, metal, and cloth scattered and sailed all around the Mad Dogs as their cover was being torn to shreds. Men screamed, guns blazed, blood flowed freely to soak into the carpet.

Then silence.

The dusty, ashy debris flittered down like moth wings around Rile in the unbearable silence as he sat hunkered behind the last pillar before reaching the windows. Breathing heavily and sweating uncontrollably, unsure as to what was going on, Rile tentatively peered around the pillar.

The Skull were gone! The doorway, or what was left of it, was entirely empty.

Then a deep voice came calling from the stairs. “Hey, crack shot, you know who you are. Tell me your name if you still live.” The voice belonged to Steel Fist.

Rile knew that it was him that Steel Fist was calling too, though as to why, he knew not. Mustering up the courage to reply, Rile shouted hoarsely back, “Rile.”

“Well fought, Rile. I will remember you for next time. Be glad your allies have come to bail you all out!” Steel Fist shouted. Then all once again returned to silence.

Rile nearly collapsed with relief. Giving a weak but victorious cheer, he called to those that remained. “W-we are saved!”