Thread: Line of Sight (Survivor00 & ohstefyelectric)

Senka watched with wide eyes as the foreign girl darted off to grab the damned cello case. What are you doing? You stupid bitch! She slipped back into her native tongue as she cursed Amadora out for her idiocy, but she remained where she stood, hand outstretched, waiting until the girl had returned, lugging that oversized case with her. It would only slow them down. Leave it! She shouted, but when she saw that the foreign girl would never abandon the only surviving piece of her own life, she groaned in defeat and helped her up to the second floor, straining against the weight of both girl and cello. As soon as Amadora was up, Senka scrambled up after her, adrenaline flooding her veins. Senka! Hurry! They're coming! Bojan shouted to her, already unslinging his rifle and loading it. Bullets cracked off the concrete facade of the ruined school, kicking up bursts of dust. The Estovans were making a serious push this time. This was not one of their scouting groups. She heard the rattle of tank treads on pavement, only moments before a tank shell burst somewhere far too close to them. She felt the blast in her stomach, and she stumbled, caught herself, and continued to run towards the nearest window. Stay here! She yelled to Amadora, her voice nearly a raw shriek from the dust and constant yelling. Senka skidded down beneath some cover, pulling the rifle off her shoulder and grabbing for a magazine from her jacket pocket. Her hands came across something soft and unexpected. She pulled the teddy bear she had grabbed earlier in the day - although it already felt like a lifetime ago - and gingerly set it aside. As soon as her fingertips left the ratty-looking bear, she was a trained killer. She grabbed a magazine, rapped it against the side of her rifle to clear away any dust that might foul the weapon, and slammed it into the receiver. Ten shots. She used the shattered wall to mount the rifle, peering over into the courtyard. Dozens of muzzle flashes winked up at them, a hailstorm of bullets chipping away at the concrete. smokey, blue-grey RPG trails streaked back and forth across the courtyard, bursting in geysers of dirt and shattered stone. In the smokey distance, dark gray shapes moved - tanks. She pushed those distractions from her mind, peering through the scope, sighting on a figure running across the courtyard. Pull the trigger. The gun bucked against her shoulder, and the figure dropped to the ground, writhing and bleeding. The spent casing flew from the action, skittering away. Nine Shots. She shifted her aim, two men, trying to set up a machine gun. Pull the trigger. Eight Shots. Aim, fire. Seven shots. The acts were so fluid, so rehearsed, she didn't need to think. It was instinct. It was a symphony of her own kind, played with cold lead and gunpowder instead of strings, her rifle the instrument of choice. Someone screamed horribly as a burst of rifle fire stitched their belly - Senka swung her aim to a man ducking down behind the wrecked fountain. Pull the trigger. The back of his skull tore away, he dropped like a log. Six. Her blood roared in her ears, almost drowning out the deafening clatter of assault rifles and machine guns. The T-72's main gun bellowed, and the building beneath her bucked like a horse, hot stone fragments stung her skin. Dust gushed out over the courtyard, hiding the soldiers in a veil. Two rebels appeared on a balcony above the tank and fired an RPG straight down into its vulnerable turret. Smoke and fire brewed up in a blazing fireball as the tank tore itself apart. A bullet snapped past her head, close enough that she could feel the air tugging at her in its passing. Finger twitch, fire. A mottled green uniform suddenly bloomed with red blood. Five. Fire. Four Fire. Three. Another tank crashed through a wall, grinding over burnt cars and bodies, crushing the makeshift barricades set up before the courtyard. The turret belched fire and blew another hole through the crumbling school. Several RPGs tried to destroy the tank, but they missed. Soldiers opened fire at the RPG teams, but exposed themselves to Senka's aim. Fire. Two. Fire. One.