As quickly as John had grabbed and cut the man, he dropped him, not caring to be covered in the geyser of blood now pumping from his neck into the dirt alongside the hedge. John’s attack came so categorically fast and violent, the man wasn’t given an opportunity to cry out and sound any alarms for the remaining intruders.
John did not hang around to make sure the man was finished. Instead, moving like a cat, he smoothly transitioned toward the second shooter. John heard the man take several shots but wasn’t in a position to start homing in on the shooter’s exact location. No shots were coming from the house, which signaled to John that Dwight and Barry could not determine who was outside the door and were honoring his request to be overly disciplined if they had to shoot. He only hoped the marauders hadn’t hit Barry or Dwight during their suppressive-fire exercise. John took solace in the fact that he had just reduced the suppressive fire threat by fifty percent. As John moved past where he’d left Jared, he could see the steel shutters over the double front doors were beginning to shake with each blast from the heavy battering ram.
John hoped the fortress could withstand the onslaught being placed on it by the battering ram for just a few moments longer so he could finish off the last guy and get back to Jared. Once John passed Jared, he slowed his movement and used more caution, not wanting the last guy with a scoped rifle to get the jump on him. John paused as the second shooter fired another round into one of the rifle ports. John searched the yard and spotted the last shooter on one knee next to a tree. There were no bushes John could use to creep up on the guy, so he continued moving until he was directly behind him and not more than twenty yards out.
John was about to step forward when he froze. The shooter took a shot, then nervously glanced over his shoulder and to his left and right, not wanting to be snuck up on. John remained unseen, but this higher level of tactical skill caused him to view the man as far more dangerous than his careless dead comrade. The shooter took another shot and then redirected his scope to the area where John recently silenced the shooter’s partner only minutes before. The shooter was looking for his friend, and in all the chaos of shooting and breaching, he must have realized his partner was no longer firing.
The shooter was disciplined, in John’s opinion. He kept as good a watch over his rear and flanks as one man could by himself. He was also aware that his partner might be MIA but was also staying on task with what his job was during this operation. John took a deep breath and decided he had to change his plan. Getting caught halfway to the shooter was going to result with John standing out in the open in a gunfight with no cover or concealment.
John got to a knee, sheathed the blade, and pulled the suppressed rifle to his shoulder. He watched the breaching team as they pulled the utility pole turned battering ram back and then heaved it forward with a loud clack against Dwight’s shuttered front doors. The rifle was fitted with a suppressor, which did not make the weapon silent like an MP-5 spitting subsonic ammunition would sound, so John needed to time his shot. He held the rifle’s sights on a man’s head at Dwight’s front door and, as the battering ram slammed into the shuttered front doors, he continued waiting as the marauders drew the battering ram back and swung it forward. As the makeshift battering ram contacted the front of Dwight’s home, John’s right index finger contacted the trigger, pulling smoothly to the rear.
The snap of John’s shot was concealed by the crash of the battering ram as his weapon spat forth its deadly projectile. As the marauding sniper pitched headlong into the dirt, the men struggling with the battering ram never turned around. No one had heard anything that would cause alarm. The group of marauders were becoming quite excited, as part of the steel frame that housed the shutters broke free. John nearly ran back to Jared’s side, sliding to the prone position next to his friend with his face slicked in sweat despite the cool night air. Jared gave John a quizzical look, which John returned with a game on look of his own.
Using hand signals, John directed Jared to pound the men on the right side of the ram while he did the same to the boys on the left side. When the shooting started, the men closest to Jared and John caught the first few rounds while the men at the front of the battering ram had no idea their comrades were being mowed down like weeds. Before any one of them could put together what was happening, they were all down.
“You lose, motherfuckers,” John hollered. “Barry, Dwight, stay put till we clear all these guys; make sure no one’s a threat.”
“Okay,” came Barry’s worried voice from behind the shuttered windows on the right.
John got to his feet and moved towards the pile of bodies lying across Dwight’s welcome mat. Jared followed closely, rifle trained forward in case anyone
