It’s 1945.  The Germans are very close to implementing their V2 rocket program. I am behind enemy lines.  I have no allies here.  It’s nighttime and the only lights are from the few remaining working street lamps, some burning buildings in the distance, the occasional burst of light from a distant explosion and some tracer rounds.  I spot an Nazi foot soldier.  He’s close, so I put him down with a well placed shot from my Welrod pistol.  Moving forward quietly, I have a clear view down a ruined city block.

A cathedral stands proudly, though charred and battered.  It seems to offer a glimpse of hope.  A loud ring emanates from the bell tower.  I utilize the next precious seconds to fire a shot at a perimeter guard from my rifle.  The sound of my gun is drowned out by the ringing.  Another bell strike, another shot.  This time, the camera follows the bullet all the way to its target, another foot soldier’s helmeted head.  I see his wounded skeletal structure as the bullet passes through, and exits flattened and bent from the impact.

A glint from a scope high on the cathedral signals danger.  I take a shot to my shoulder and take cover behind a destroyed automobile.  I peek out, and just as the glint signals another shot from my enemy, I fire.  The bullet travels 200 meters, soaring through smoke and fog to find it’s victims chest.  My name is Karl Fairburne, and I am a sniper.

Continue reading →