Sakari The Author

Written by: Sakari Lacross

The three men wore black bullet proof vest, just like Troy’s comrades. They were indeed mercs.

Troy’s allies positioned themselves right behind the house the opposing team were in, ready to attack.

“Hold on Ralph, let me get a good aim on the team first,” Weasel noted.

The team didn’t move, remaining to be unseen by the soldiers in the one-story building.

“One of them has a grenade launcher,” Troy spoke up, warning Weasel and thinking he would inform the others.

“I can see that damnit,” Weasel replied to Troy. “He’s the one I’m trying to hit first.”

Troy could only assume that Weasel was trying to wait for the guy with the modded launcher to step in front of a window or something. Afterwards, the team would rush in for a full assault on the remaining two, outnumbering them by one. Or better yet, they would probably toss in a grenade, flushing the last two out so Weasel could snipe them as well. Knowing Ralph, that was a safer option. Not putting his teammates in any unnecessary danger was more of his style, unlike Cramer who was a run and gunner.

There was a red dot that flashed, but it wasn’t Weasel’s. The dot bounced onto Weasel, with very little time for Troy to warn him. Landing on his forehead, there was silence before he shouted, “Weasel move.”

Troy was too late. It happened too fast. Weasel dropped to the ground, laying on his back as blood quickly gushed out of the spot he was hit in. The spot where the red dot landed…his forehead.

The projectile’s bullet sound was so faint, the shooter had to have placed a suppressor on the end of his or her sniper rifle barrel, meaning Troy wouldn’t be able to hear the direction the gunshot was coming from.

He looked down at Weasel, whose eyes were still open as a puddle of blood formed underneath his head. By now, Troy had already dived next to his lifeless body, avoiding the unforeseen sniper. To his surprise, the sound of gunshots that he could hear had gone off. Semi-automatic shots were fired first, which Troy knew were not from any of their men. The only semi-automatic user was Weasel, which meant that their foes had attacked first.

No longer concerned about his safety, Troy ran for it. Jumping straight up, he sprinted a short distance before diving off the roof top. Troy landed on his feet, feeling a short length of pain before the pain completely vanished. He didn’t slow down one bit, taking the back alley like the team did in order to avoid the sniper and get to his team without any interruptions. Troy passed a ton of homes on his way there, hearing the onslaught of gunfire return back and forth between the two camps. Troy couldn’t see his allies from where he was, so he assumed that they made their way in doors. The only reason they would go in doors is if they were flanked. That’s what the burst of bullets were from, a flanker. Damn it. Troy thought to himself as he speeded passed cover. If the team really was flanked, that meant that someone must’ve been hit. But who?

The odds were not in their favor. The opposing team had an unfair advantage. This was all a trap. They had already positioned themselves around the town. Those bastards were probably watching us the entire time.

Troy reached the house that the gunfire was sounding off at. The problem was, by the time he had gotten there, there were no more gunshots. Someone was victorious.

Positioning himself against the wall, Troy peeked into the entrance of the home. The first thing he spotted through the open doorway, was Jeremy’s big body right at the entrance. He laid flat on his stomach in a puddle of blood, with the back of his shirt wet with his own blood. He must’ve been the target of the flanker, barraging him with bullets from behind. From the looks of it, Jeremy then pushed his way into the empty home to avoid further injury but collapsed once his adrenaline wasn’t enough to keep him going.

Taking another peek, Troy caught a glimpse of Cramer, who wasn’t much further from Jeremy. He was stretched out on the floor, lying on his side in a puddle of blood.

Last but not least…was Ralph. By this time, Troy was no longer peeking. He had taken cautious steps into the entrance of the home, seeing Ralph resting against the wall with his head down in a sitting motion. From the looks of it, he was bleeding from his neck.

Approaching him, Troy got close enough for a better examination of what had happened to him, making sure to kneel down away from the windows so the sniper couldn’t spot him.

Ralph had been cut across his neck by some sort of sharp blade. But it couldn’t have been the dagger that was on the assault rifle. The cut was too clean. This had to have been by some sort of sword. Or maybe even a machete.

Troy didn’t have time to mourn over their deaths, someone was approaching the front door. Troy stayed in a crouched position, pulling one of his smaller swords off his back. He crouched walk towards the door the figure was coming towards, positioning himself behind it. Troy was going to strike as soon as the killer entered.

The voices were loud, consisting of at least two men having a conversation.

“Are you sure there’s still one left?” A rough voice asked, with silence in between his question. “Was he armed? Alright, we’ve got him. Taymar, you two go around the back way.”

From the sound of it, he was speaking into some sort of communicator. Probably an earpiece as well, assuming he was talking to the sniper for the first half of the conversation.

Troy could hear the footsteps of the other men circling around the house. This called for a change of plans. With the back door still opened, Troy had to take them out first. The rough sounding man still stood on the other side of the front door, showing Troy that he wasn’t about to enter until his allies made their way in first.

Troy crouched walk back over to the back door, avoiding closing their way in. Troy wanted them to rush him, because he was ready to rush his adversaries as well.

The first man entered, holding a SMG in hand. The man immediately opened fire. Troy knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid his close-range bullets. On top of that, there was nowhere to hide without the sniper seeing him.

The place wasn’t big enough for him to avoid a full auto weapon, so Troy rushed him, taking a full barrage of bullets to his abdomen. Troy shoved his blade through the man’s stomach, slamming him into the wall next to the back-door entrance. He died immediately.

Troy didn’t hear the front door open in his background. He didn’t pay mind to the man entering the front door, seeing as another target was coming in from the back door, closer to where Troy already was. The man that was closer to Troy, held a pump action shotgun. This didn’t give Troy enough time to pull his blade out of his ally’s stomach.

Troy rushed the shotgun carrying bastard as fast as he could, with very little space between them to begin with as he met the man outside of the door entrance. The man pulled the trigger as expected, but by that time…Troy was already on him. Troy was already invading his personal space.

Troy’s body jerked, feeling the pellet spread burst throughout his upper body. He could fill a slight stream of blood shiver down the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to put him down.

Troy gripped the man’s arms, pulling him close to him upon the impact, giving him a one hundred percent accuracy, while giving Troy something to hold on to, to avoid being launched backwards from the incoming damage. The look in the man’s eyes as he quickly realized that Troy didn’t drop dead from a close-range shotgun shot, was priceless. The man looked as if he had shit himself.

Troy took his hands off the man’s arms and gripped his upper body, pulling him even closer to him as their bodies now hugged. This gave Troy the opportunity he needed, spinning the two of them around as he knew the men behind him were ready to shoot. And shoot they did. However, with the shotgunner and Troy trading places, their ally’s back was now facing them. They of course shot their partner by pure accident. His body jerked uncontrollably in Troy’s arms as bullets danced on his back.

Troy didn’t stand still for long, pushing the dead weighted body in their direction as he shuffled in the direction to his right.

“FUCK,” Troy heard the rough man’s voice yell. “He’s running through the backway.”

Heading to the next house, Troy was only in the line of sight for a split moment, leaving him open for the sniper as he attempted to make it behind the next house for cover. The sniper took his shot, dropping Troy to the ground. From the feeling of the hot led, the bullet hit him in his hip. He dropped to his stomach.

#webseries #fiction #novella #author