In the Crosshairs

[Go ahead and read the prologue first.]

Amid shadows deep and dangers untold,

The Nachtwache's tale of courage unfolds.

Valiant operatives, hearts unswayed,

Brave the hostile fray where foes cascade.

A new mission dawns with each rising sun,

In hostile lands where battles are won.

Krasnyj Medved's shadow, a rival's might,

Intertwines with darkness in the blackest night.

Illicit arms trade and secrets concealed,

In this gritty world, truths unrevealed.

Through perilous paths and trials dire,

Nachtwache marches on, flames never tire.

On the crest of a hill, a figure emerged, poised with unwavering determination. Her name was Chey, and she crouched low to the ground, her eyes fixated through the scope of her trusty weapon. A CheyTac M200 "INTERVENTION" rifle, meticulously positioned atop a bipod, rested on a soft bag to ensure perfect alignment. The weight of the world seemed to press against her shoulders, but she remained steady, her finger positioned gently on the trigger.

With her spotter positioned at a safe distance, Chey meticulously calculated the distance, wind speed, and direction, adjusting her aim accordingly. She accounted for the Coriolis effect, the curvature of the Earth, and the slightest atmospheric changes, ensuring her shot would be true. Such attention to detail and mastery of the environment were essential elements of her success.

A crackling voice broke the silence through Chey's radio device, urging her to action. "Chey, let us know when you're ready. Take the shot," it commanded.

Her heart thumped in her chest as she took a deep breath, clearing her mind of all distractions. She brushed a lock of hair away from her field of view, aligning her sights on the target. Time seemed to slow as she gradually applied pressure to the trigger, feeling the resistance give way beneath her touch.

The intricate mechanics of her rifle came to life, the hammer striking the primer pin with a resolute force. Within the confines of the cartridge, gunpowder ignited, generating a sudden surge of expanding gas. The bullet, propelled forward by this explosive energy, journeyed through the rifling within the barrel, its spinning motion increasing its velocity with every passing moment. And then, with a decisive release, it broke free from the confines of the barrel, hurtling through the air with unyielding purpose.

A split second later, the bullet found its mark, striking the intended target with lethal precision. The enemy combatant crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Chey lowered her rifle, briefly glancing through her binoculars to confirm her kill. "That's a headshot right there," she murmured, a trace of satisfaction in her voice.

Yet, triumph was short-lived as the crackling of gunfire erupted from the enemy's direction. They had detected her presence, and now they sought to silence her with a hail of bullets. Chey's training kicked in, and she returned fire, exchanging rounds with her adversaries until her magazine ran empty.

The urgency in her voice resonated through the radio, a plea for immediate assistance. "I need immediate evac! Get me out of here," she exclaimed, her voice betraying a hint of urgency.

A steadfast radio operator acknowledged her distress, promising swift action. "Hold on, Chey. We're on it. Extraction is en route."

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Chey wasted no time. She swiftly packed her equipment, shouldering the weight of her mission, and made her way to the designated extraction point. There, an all-terrain vehicle (ATV) awaited her arrival. With a determined leap, she mounted the ATV, revving the engine to life, and embarked on a daring ride back to the safety of the base, where allies awaited her return.

Finally, as she mounted the all-terrain vehicle (ATV), she employed the "bounding overwatch" technique. Her spotter covered her movement, providing suppressive fire as she made her daring escape. They alternated their roles, one moving while the other provided cover, creating a seamless flow of protection.

𝚂𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎: 𝓣𝓝𝓟 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜

Back within the confines of the Nachtwache Projekt headquarters, Lieutenant Colonel found himself immersed in the busyness of his daily responsibilities. Dressed in his customary office uniform, he navigated through various tasks, managing the affairs that demanded his attention. Amidst the flurry of duties, a knock resounded on his office door, momentarily disrupting the rhythm of his work.

"Lieutenant Colonel, may I come in?" a voice called from beyond the door. He recognized it immediately, and a wry smile curved his lips. "Ah, it's you," he replied, granting entry to the operative.

She stood before him, clad in a striking red jacket with a black undershirt. Her vibrant amber pupils captured his gaze, framed by cascading silver hair that reached her shoulders. Despite her petite stature, an air of determination radiated from her being.

"Amelie Stier," he began, addressing her by name. "You're aware of the monikers they've bestowed upon you, aren't you?"

Amelie's response carried a trace of frustration tinged with anger. "A Kaltherzkarton? Yes, I know. Enkoth never ceases to remind me of that. Don't you have anything else to say?" A flicker in her eye betrayed the simmering tempest beneath her composed exterior.

Lieutenant Colonel chuckled softly, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Ah, yes, that one too," he admitted, teasing her. "But that's not why I called you here."

Amelie's impatience grew palpable, her voice laced with a demand for answers. "Then what is it? Come on, speak up. I'm all ears."

Leaning back in his chair, Lieutenant Colonel couldn't help but revel in the playful banter. "Kaltherzige ballistische Platte," he finally revealed, relishing the effect his words had on her.

Amelie's expression darkened, a storm brewing within her. "Who told you that, huh?" she questioned, her voice dripping with a mixture of determination and a warning. "If I find out who blabbed about it, I'll make sure to silence them. And in any case... yes, that's what I've been called. So what? What's the big deal?"

Chuckling once more, the Lieutenant waved off her concerns. "Oh, nothing, just playing around," he admitted, his mischievous nature on full display. "But, I do have a mission for you."

Perking up at the mention of a new assignment, Amelie's curiosity was piqued. "A mission? Tell me more. Who will be joining me?"

Lieutenant Colonel leaned forward, his gaze steady and serious. "You'll be part of a team comprised of thirteen other Nachtwache operatives. An assault group, along with a few members from PhoCo Quick Response."

Amelie's eyebrows furrowed in response. "Fourteen operatives on a single mission? That must be quite an undertaking. But who exactly are we up against?"

A somber note entered the Lieutenant's voice as he relayed the details. "That's the challenge. We don't have all the answers yet. However, we do have a primary target: Qevrols Fran. He has armed men in his company. I will send you his last known location."

Amelie's skepticism mingled with a hint of concern as she processed the Lieutenant Colonel's words. "Let me make sure I understand this correctly," she began, her voice laced with caution. "You want us to launch a raid on an unknown enemy compound, one that holds the potential for grave danger?"

The Lieutenant Colonel's response carried a weight of acknowledgment. "Du hast recht," he concurred, acknowledging the inherent risks they faced.

Amelie's brows furrowed further, her mind already envisioning the perilous path ahead. "I can already foresee the challenges that await us. But tell me, who will lead this operation?"

A mischievous glimmer sparkled in the Lieutenant Colonel's eyes as he uttered his next words. "You, of course."

The revelation caught Amelie off guard, her surprise evident. "Me? Mich? Is it simply because I am the leader of my squad team?"

The Lieutenant Colonel chuckled, enjoying the banter that unfolded between them. "Nein," he replied, shaking his head. "It's because you possess the qualities of a 'kaltherzige ballistische Platte'."

Amelie's expression hardened, a dangerous edge coloring her voice. "I will kill you if you say that again," she threatened, her tone laden with a mixture of playfulness and a warning.

Undeterred by her response, the Lieutenant Colonel swiftly shifted gears, wishing her well. "Anyways, good luck," he said, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. "Your squad mates are waiting for you."

Concerned about the practicalities, Amelie sought reassurance. "You'll ensure that we are duly compensated for this mission, right?"

The Lieutenant Colonel nodded, his assurance forthcoming. "Yes, Heinrich will handle the details. Rest assured, you will be well compensated."

Amelie's interest was piqued as she heard the mention of the founder's involvement. "Heinrich? So the founder himself is taking an interest in this operation? That's certainly intriguing."

The Lieutenant Colonel confirmed her suspicion, his voice carrying a note of caution. "Yes, Heinrich was curious about this mission. He emphasized the need for caution and vigilance."

Accepting the challenge that lay before her, Amelie's resolve strengthened. "Very well then. I shall make my way to the rendezvous point. Auf Wiedersehen, Lieutenant C.," she quipped, her words carrying a hint of teasing.

As she turned to depart, the Lieutenant Colonel watched her with a mix of admiration and concern. The fate of their mission rested upon the shoulders of Amelie and her fellow operatives. Danger awaited them, but their unwavering determination and formidable skills would propel them forward, into the unknown, ready to face whatever awaited them in the treacherous landscape of their mission.