Midnight Sun (116 page)

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Authors: Basil Sands

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Sniper
teams
and
counter
sniper
teams
settled
in
residence
on
the
tallest
buildings
,
viewing
the
vast
majority
of
the
area.
Thanks
to
the
open
layout
of
the
thoroughly
modern
downtown
Anchorage landscape
,
few
areas
were
out
of
their
view
,
and
those
that
were also
unusable
by
a
potential
shooter.
 
The
teams
would
stay
in
position
until
the
p
resident
and
his
guests
were
safely
out
of
the
area
the
next
day.

The
young
men
walked
past
a
pregnant
Asian
lady
who
strolled
into
the
park
from which
they
had
just
been
evicted.


They
probably
ain't
gonna
let
you
through
,
lady,

one
of
them
said
to
her.

They're
being
real
jerks
about
it
all
being
off
limits
for
the
president's
visit
tomorrow.


Thanks
for
the
warning,

Lonnie
replied,

but
I've
got
a
pass.

She
flashed
her
badge
at
them
and kept moving
until s
he came up to Caufield’s group.

The group acknowledged
her presence with a few greetings and pleasant smiles, then turned back to their work. That work, n
o matter how much she worried about it
,
was not hers. Not this time. The mission was in other people’s hands.
Lonnie
surrendered
to
the
facts
of
her
condition
. While a part of her wanted to be deeper into it, she knew her part was done and she needed to step out of the way
of
those
whose
job
it
was.
Marcus split off from the group.

“Don’t you need to stay here and work with them?” Lonnie asked.

“No, they’ve got it under control,” He said. “Besides, its not my job. I’m just a civilian here, remember?”

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Let’s get back to the hotel and get some rest,” He said.

S
he
didn't
protest
.

***

Marcus
glanced out the hotel window
toward the Park Strip and buildings around it
.
H
e
caught
sight
of
the
sniper
posts
on
the roofs of
buildings
nearer
the
park
, shooters and spotters settling into their deadly task
.
His
memory flared with images of the
countless
times
he
had
been
sitting
in
just
such
a
position himself,
high
on
a
building,
on
a
mountainside,
or
on
a
flat
-
roofed
two
-
story
building
in
an
urban
Iraqi
alley.
 
He
thought back to the
fear
and
tension
that he’d always felt in the hours before a mission went live
,
a
nervous
energy
that curled tightly
,
deep in his gut.  It came
from
knowing
that
soon
you'd
be
called
upon
to
perform an act
that
was
very
unnatural
for
mankind
—to
kill
another
human
being.
As the moment drew near
,
the shooter would
descend
into the battle zone within their psyche. The
feeling
settle
d
 
into
a
low
thrum
of
energy
coursing
through
the
body
as
the
sniper
calmed
and
employed
the
well
-
practiced
breathing
exercises,
focusing
on
scanning
the
target area
,
broken
into
quadrants,
sections,
segments
,
and
positions, the mind seeing the battle space as if overla
id
with grid lines. He
had
sometimes compared the image to a life
-
size
d
game of Battleship
—only
he could see over the opponent

s board and knew where he'd placed his ships
.
And
when
the
battle
came
,
a
surreal
quiet
d
escended
,
like a physical force
ebbing
through
the
body
at
a
molecular
level.
Every
ounce
of
the
sniper's
being
slid
into
an
ethereal
existence
of
man
against
man.
And
then
it
was
over.
Just
like
that.
Things
g
ot
packed
up,
the
shooter
exfiltrate
d
,
slinking
through
city
streets,
jungle
undergrowth,
or
a
shattered
building.
The
danger
never
end
ed
until
you
were
back
at
the
barracks.

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