Chapter 8: Let's Go Hunting Johnny!

<Johnny and the Musket Plays in background.>

I eliminated two snipers, positioned strategically behind the second house to the left—one at four hundred meters, the other at three hundred. My marksmanship had never brought me greater pride, or so I thought, considering the subtle assistance I received.

Summoning Meroh once more, I observed a decrease in the shots aimed at my spectral ally. A hostile projectile found its mark on Meroh, and within five seconds, the dissipating clouds of dust signified the aftermath.

Seeking cover, I rolled out of the exposed area, aligning my sights through the optics. The yellow luminescence from my firearm extinguished after the shot, accompanied by the thunderous crack as the bullet traversed twenty times the speed of sound. The enemy, now a distant memory, fell victim to my precision in a battlefield symphony orchestrated by the echoes of gunfire and the lingering scent of gunpowder.

The utilization of focus points exacted a toll on my mental faculties, a subtle fatigue settling into my body following the execution of my last trick. An excess of points had been expended and awaited refreshment. Recognizing the need for respite, I sought a momentary refuge. Three snipers, growing increasingly impatient, unleashed a barrage of shots from their concealed positions behind a massive boulder.

Amidst the cooldown of my skills, Simon's urgent communication interrupted the battlefield symphony. "S-Sir Dory? I have bad news!" The tremor in Simon's voice indicated the gravity of the information I had neglected, absorbed in eliminating the snipers that threatened us from behind.

As my focus points slowly recharged, I engaged with Simon. "What's wrong?" The urgency of his response amplified as Simon exclaimed, "We're surrounded, and they are closing in!"

The weight of the situation hit me like a shockwave. "What!?" I couldn't suppress my incredulity.

In a moment of recklessness, I questioned myself, "What should I do now?" The dilemma lingered: abandon these people in the face of a mission gone awry and a potential setup, or stand firm knowing that capture would brand Shayne McLane a notorious criminal and terrorist.

The battleground now held two fronts – one against the snipers and another against the encroaching threat surrounding us.

I couldn't leave an unfinished business, could I? Finding excuses would not make me any better man, or rather, any better creature that possessed sapience. I felt the pressing need to delve into the depths of this matter and clear my name. Confronting the challenge head-on seemed more beneficial than succumbing to the temptation of fleeing and hiding in the shadows. Determined, I clutched my rifle tightly and stealthily made my way down the hill, a cautious maneuver to evade the unseen snipers lurking behind me. Eventually, my decision solidified—I would catch up with the others to mount a rescue mission.

However, a rash charge without a well-thought-out plan was out of the question. Contemplating the situation, I devised a strategy that involved creating distractions for the adversaries before systematically dismantling them one by one. As I navigated the terrain, a lingering thought crossed my mind—how I wished Simon were still the dependable man he once was. Alas, relying on him was no longer an option, and I resigned myself to finding creative ways to improvise in this lone struggle against an entire army. Despite my exceptional abilities, there were still limitations to what I could achieve.

Pressing onward, I momentarily forgot about the wibonds still snug in my ears, playing that familiar country song from my sniper-hunting expeditions. It was intriguing how certain tunes could shape one's thoughts and actions. With the rhythmic melody echoing in my mind, I found myself planning the next stage of my mission. No longer would I be hunting ducks or swans; instead, my target would be... ducklings! The irony of the situation didn't escape me, and I couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected turn my thoughts had taken amid the chaos.

Creeping through the dimly lit suburbs surrounding the warehouse where I had last pinpointed Simon and the others, I observed the meticulous patrol of guards, a formidable display of vigilance. The atmosphere was tense, and the well-armed sentinels patrolling the area were no pushovers. Bulletproof vests, rifles, and standard mercenary gear adorned their figures, speaking volumes about the organized and militaristic nature of their operation.

Taking stock of the situation, I scrutinized their defenses for any potential vulnerabilities. Amidst their imposing facade, a chink in their armor emerged—a fleeting weakness that begged to be exploited. If I were to venture there, timing would be paramount. My elven instincts whispered the possibility of using my agility, a relic from a past life as an elven warrior. Yet, the pragmatism ingrained in my human consciousness urged reliance on intellect and strategy over mere physical prowess.

As I mulled over the options, it became evident that a blend of cunning and strength would be my greatest assets. Humans, with their unique combination of brawn and brain, had historically triumphed over adversaries relying solely on brute force. The strategic approach was to outmaneuver, outthink, and outlast—a principle that resonated with my current predicament.

Now, the time had come to initiate my move. A surge of determination welled up within me. I identified an opening, acknowledging that distractions and precise timing were critical elements of success. Meroh, my ever-ready companion, awaited deployment. The only missing piece of the puzzle was the music, and I scanned my surroundings for a source of sound amplification.

Ah, there they were—speakers strategically placed within the guarded perimeter. A devious grin played across my face as I formulated my plan. Connecting my device to the audio system, I queued up the country music that had proven instrumental in my sniper-hunting exploits. The juxtaposition of mischief and creativity danced in my mind, creating an unusual yet effective strategy.

As the first notes of the country melody echoed through the night, I marveled at the unexpected turn of events. The mischievous aura surrounding the unconventional distraction only fueled my resolve. It was a testament to the versatility required in such high-stakes scenarios, where wit and resourcefulness could be as potent as any weapon. The stage was set, and with the music playing, I embarked on my calculated approach, navigating the shadows with a renewed sense of purpose.

Beneath the protective cover of their mother's nests, the ducklings remained seemingly oblivious to the orchestrated chaos unfolding around them. The task of hunting them down was straightforward, but executing the mission undetected proved to be a more intricate challenge. The country music blared from the strategically placed speakers, creating a discordant atmosphere that bewildered the guards. While they found the tunes tasteless, for me, it was a symphony of brilliance—a diversion playing out with precision.

Amidst the confusion, I directed my attention to the left wing of the warehouse where my trusty companion, Meroh, awaited my command. A sudden bleat from the goat caught the attention of two bewildered enemies. Puzzled expressions adorned their faces, prompting me to question their astonishment. "Have they not seen a goat before?" I mused briefly, realizing there was no time to dwell on their reactions. Swiftly, I engaged the four adversaries before me, dispatching them with calculated efficiency. Meroh obediently followed, and with a quick command, I urged, "Stay still!"

As I breached the warehouse's interior, I navigated through the labyrinth of corridors, expertly eliminating guards one by one. The shadows became my ally, concealing my every move. Racing against time, I ascended to the second floor where Simon and the others were rumored to be held captive. Anticipation fueled my every step.

Upon entering the designated room, my heart sank at the sight of emptiness. The stark reality struck me, and a wave of disbelief washed over me. However, the silence was shattered by a familiar voice emanating from the radio. I stood frozen, grappling with the revelation that I had unwittingly become entangled in a spectacularly planned set-up.

The orchestrated chaos, the diversion, and the unexpected twist in the tale unfolded before me like a scripted drama. The realization that I had walked into a meticulously laid trap added an extra layer of complexity to an already dire situation. In this unexpected turn, I found myself forced to reassess my strategy, my instincts heightened as I grappled with the unfolding uncertainty. The stakes had risen, and the game had taken an unforeseen twist, plunging me into a realm of calculated unpredictability.

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A/N: 'The Lyrics of Johnny and the Musket', enjoy!

Title: Johnny And The Musket

Song Type: Country

By: Stevenson and the Cowboys

(Accordion Intro)

Verse 1: Johnny? Have you found your musket?

Johnny! We are going to hunt some ducklings! In the pond~ they go!

In the rivers from the snow!

It is now spring Johnny and prepare your musket for huntin'.

SFX: Rapid Banjo playing

Bridge: We're going huntin' Johnny, prepare with Donnie! Have your musket ready as we go hunting, Johnny!

SFX: Banjo Slow

Chorus: Chase the ducklings, run towards the pond! We are hunting more than ducklings to find a good game!

Hurry Johnny we're hunting, away from any Grizzly... Bear!

C'mon, Johnny let's go hunting us a fair game!

SFX: Country Instruments (Accordion, Banjo and Fiddle)

Verse 2: Johnny, I got my rifle!

Johnny, we're gonna hunt, not gonna swim!

I see you got your musket, I have my rifle.

Let's hunt our game together!

Together!!!

SFX: All instruments encore then fade