Relaxation In Zevrin

Snap. Snap.

The operative took pictures of the state of the bolt-action rifle. He had dismantled the gun to its basic components, fitting them snuggly into the backpack he carried, the bullets collected in a large plastic bag.

"It's a SIR 91/5, yeah?" Asked Jerm, trying to confirm the weapon.

"Standard Issue Rifle Service '91 carrying 5, yeah?" The weapons specialist, Zackven, confirmed.

"Uh, yeah. That."

The fireteam lazed around in a ruined hotel room; the windows were dirty but only cracked. They took the mattresses along with any bedsheets and even towels.

Raylan prepared the wireless radio once more, fixing the antenna and checking the channel. All public. Grabbing the small speaker, he raised it to his mouth.

"ATTENTION ALL RESIDENTS OF ZEVRIN. THE TERRORS OF THE WASTE ARE FINALLY HERE. YOU MAY HEARD NASTY RUMORS OF US. ALL OF THEM ARE TRUE. NOW WE ARE HERE FOR A CERTAIN PERSON, WHO GOES BY 'FREGLO THE HOUND'. IF ANYONE WOULD BE KIND ENOUGH TO HAND HIM OVER TO US , YOU WILL BE GREATLY REWARDED. LOCATIONS ARE GIVEN, I WILL REPEAT TWICE."

The trio listened to their leader, looking at the map of their current location. It was the same plan as always, either they handed the wanted person or they would come in themselves and try to kill them. It was usually the ladder.

"How many do you think are coming?" Sarbuk asked, peeking through the window, he saw nothing below them. Just mere dead cars and papers flying from the wind. It was a lonely place.

He already guessed it wouldn't be lonely anytime soon.

"A day if we're lucky, around fifteen hours if they're cocky." Raylan picked up his M2V30 (Model 2 Variant 30). The issued rifles were all given. Chambered in 5.56×45mm, the assault rifle carried 30 of these bullets. It was a fancy rifle, expensive too.

Raylan's own rifle was customized, with a special sight that enhanced the vision and a red dot in the middle. Along with a grenade-launcher mounted under, firing a 30mm round.

The rest of the fireteam didn't had any of those special attachments. Still functioning the same just without any further firepower of a 30mm grenade. Relying on the iron sights of their rifles.

"Then lets hope we're lucky. Didn't intelligence tell us that they're eighty five strong? .. I don't think I have enough bullets for them." Jerm groaned, his tactical rig only carried five of the magazines for their rifles.

"You'll have enough." Sarbuk tried to comfort his battle buddy, shaking his shoulder as he smiled.

"Besides, we're not alone. I'm pretty sure Beatrice and her squad are just .. Doing their thing."

"Oh god, Beatrice." Zackven groaned softly, "If you see her, please warn me, I can't take another 'Crowbar Sandwich'.

"I think she's going to come for you first, so .. Keep your eyes out." Sarbuk couldn't help but snicker. "Here." He would pull out the canned drinks from his tac-back, handing each one of them to his comrades. In unison, they would crack open the warm energy drinks.

"Bluegh." Jerm cringed, swirling the drink around as he sat on the floor. Zack smacked his lips as he took another sip. He was happy to see the two were still in good spirits. He could only guess how many bodies they've seen .. He looked at Raylan, who didn't stop drinking, gulping it all down and crushing the 100ml can with his hands.

He wanted to ask if he was going to be okay. Of course he was going to be okay, he's always okay.

And for the rest of the night, they rested. Raylan was the first to keep watch, unmoving from his position as he stared at the window. The sound of gunfire was common, but it didn't disturb them from their sleep. Zack was the second to keep watch, he resisted the urge to finish his energy drink, he didn't want to risk staying up all night. Jerm was uneventful, as soon as Sarbuk took his place, he fell asleep on his feet.

Again, the streets were uneventful. No one walked, no cars moved, and not a single living thing dared cross the road. He could barely see anything, any source of lighting was gone, the batteries in the light posts were dead. He didn't know why, but he wanted to see if anything did come out. Digging through his pack once again, he pulled out a trusty pair of Night Vision Goggles, fixing the NVG on his FAST helmet, he turned it on and lowered it to his eyes.

Again, he saw nothing, with the green lighting detecting nothing. The same cars, same light posts, and-

Tip tap tip tap.

Two people, both quickly running. The two of them were armed and had sizable backpacks.

He just watched, if he decided to take any shots that would only endanger the team. So again, he only watched. They would take cover behind one of the cars, they seemed to be speaking, he couldn't even hear them. He pulled his head away from the window, waiting a couple of seconds before looking back.

Tip tap.

Thud Thud.

His eyes slightly widened as he watched the two drop, witnessing one of their heads just disappear and the other a sizable chunk of meat coming out from their stomach.

Sniper.

Yet he wasn't able to hear any of the gunshots-he was trying to guess what it was, magic? It had to be magic, there's no way a rifle that can shoot rounds like that can do it without any noise.

He pulled his small radio from his rig, lifting it to his mouth. He was on the right channel, so with that he pressed the push-to-talk button, "This-This is Fireteam Brave 3-02. To all Brave elements, I'm seeing possible magically modified sniper fire. Sniper zone is at .." He looked for any street sign, there was none. "Two cars! Both parked next to each other, three light posts, and two corpses lying in the middle of the road .. Brave 3-02 over." Click.

The rest of the team were still asleep, delivering a sigh of relief to Sarbuk. He slouched against the wall, holding his rifle tightly. Another night in unknown territory.