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RPG Through the Scope

Drizzt Do'urden

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OOC: This is a one on one duel between me and Katakudoushi, I've already okayed this through Darren.

Frank bent his knees as he landed, even with this precaution the impact was still vicious. For some reason the damn RAF planes always flew in too low whenever they were making the drop. Everytime he jumped from one he longed for a fellow American pilot.

The city of Dresden was surprisingly quiet. Frank was here one other time during the allied bombing raids a month previous. Control over Dresden had become a war in itself; both sides wanted it, neither could gain ground. Word had come in, the allies were stopped. The axis called [I]Him[/I] in, so the allies brought Frank. [I]He[/I] was the best, so was Frank.

Frank checked his M14 garand to ensure neither the rifle or sight took any damage during the fall. He loved the way the rifle felt in his grip, the smoothness of the wood. The shine of the metal, the perfect weight. He'd already mapped his route with his superiors before getting underway. There was still a heavy axis presence, so he had to be slick. Sure he had allies, but if he was to beat [I]him[/I], he would have to be in a place he'd never suspect, and Frank had just the place.
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Niclas leans with his back against a pile of rubble, his Karabiner 98 Kurz bolt action rifle propped up next to him. It seemed that the entire city of Dresden was rubble now. He hasn't seen the rest of his brigade in days. Whether they were killed or just deserted, it didn't matter, they were dead men either way. The German's been hunkered down behind the rubble picking off Allied soldiers stupid enough to walk out in the open, but he hasn't seen a soul in nearly two days. Were they really all dead, or are they just cowards? Niclas throws back a mouth full of water from his cantine; digusting. Even the water in Dresden tastes like gun powder. There is no escaping the death.

He pulls a light blue cloth from his belt and begins polishing his rifle. Like all German snipers he had to practically build his weapon himself. He modified the Mauser with a 4x telescopic sight, removed the base plate and replaced the stock with a light weight variant. It could only carry a 5 round stripper clip (nothing like the semi-automatic rifles the Allies had) but he wouldn't trade it in for any other weapon. On the stock Niclas has carved his kill count with a bowie knife: 34. Thirty-four men have lost their lives at his hands. It seems almost like murder when you say it out loud like that, thats why he doesn't.

The light hum of an aircraft cuts through the still air. Niclas slowly peeks up over the rubble.

"Royal Air Force..." he says under his breath.

The plane passes the city and flies into the distance. It wasn't an air raid so what why were they here? What did they leave, or maybe... [I]who[/I] did they leave?

Niclas huddles back down in the bombed out building he has taken shelter in. This rubble won't hide him for long. He'll have to get to higher ground... and fast. He scans the area.

An old watchtower; perfect.

Now all that's left is to get there... alive.
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Frank reached the first building on the outskirts of Dresden. It seemed like the threat of an air strike sent the bulk of the Germans underground like they had intended. He doubted highly that anyone had seen the parachute deploy, but was being careful just in case.

Frank hit the dirt as the sound of nearby gunfire rang out. Fighting the urge to draw his rifle, he sat perfectally still. Just as he thought, a group of Germans ran by in pursuit of someone. "Perfect" Frank risked saying out loud, it seemed as though a newly homeless child sized citizen of Dresden stole something from the soldiers. He'd have to remember to donate some of his paycheck to helping German orphans after this was all over.

Frank's eyes scanned the area until he found what he was looking for. An old abandoned watch tower sat amidst the ruins. How it managed to withstand the bombing runs was a mystery. Surley it was one of the tallest structures in the city, only dwarfed by the remnants of a bombed out apartment structure.

Frank started to take a step in the direction of the watch tower, when a thought struck him. If nichlas had beat him to the city, then he'd already found this watch tower, with its four open sides it was a snipers dream. "Too easy Nichlas." Frank changed direction and headed towards the apartment structure. It seemed to be an easy trek, that was until he rounded the corner of the building he was using for cover and saw the German tank company bunkered down. They were just exiting their bunker after the "airstrike".

Frank ducked back behind his cover, maybe Nichlas hadn't made it to the city yet. That old watch tower may be open.

No that was insanity to think that. Even if they had arrived at the same time, they were behind German lines. Nichlas could make it to that tower a lot quicker than he could. It would be hard to make Nichlas pay for the death of two of Frank's company just short time before this if Frank was dead from hoping, he would have to sneak past these men...but how?
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Niclas throws his rifle over his shoulder and tightens the strap hooked to it. He rises to his feet slowly but stays low. Just as he's about to make a break for the watchtower the familiar sound of conversation spikes in the distance. Niclas crouches down and throws his rifle over his shoulder. He clicks the scope three notches clockwise, and then he sees them. Five German soldiers are exiting a bunker and crossing the space between he and the watchtower, laughing and musing along the way.

"Out in plane sight... idiots. Now that tower has the attention of any Allied sniper within 1 mile."

Niclas slinks back down behind the rubble. What to do now? He crawls along the ground over rocks and debris, looking for another hideout. The only thing he sees is an old apartment complex, barely still standing. He checks the area out through his scope. Everything appears quiet, but that doesn't mean anything. He needs attention to be drawn away from the building.

"About 50 yards away. I'll need to sprint, but I need some time."

Niclas crawls back over to where he sat before and peers over the top of the burnt bricks and crumbled stone. The German soldiers are haphazardly making their way in Niclas's direction. They'll spot him soon.

"Those fools will get me killed along with them."

Niclas fishes in his ammo bag, pulls out a clip and slides it into the stock of his rifle. He steadies the rifle on the rubble in front of him. The soldiers are in his sight.

"I'm sorry, brothers."

Five shots ring out. Five men go down.

Niclas lowers his rifle and looks over to the apartment building.

"I must go now."
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Frank thanked god for Nichlas at that moment. To any rookie, those five shots that rang out would have just been that, five shots. To Frank, he recognized at once, the precision in those shots. They were spaced out, more purposfull. The tank brigade had taken it as an oncoming threat and manned their stations, luckily facing away from him. He quickly scurried across the open road and into the ruined structure.

He was now only about 30 yards from the apartment building when he saw his next obstacle. A young German soldier, who couldn't have been more than 16 was standing about 10 ft away, staring coldly at Frank. The soldier was unarmed, that fact was even further varified by the look of terror as Frank raised his garand.

As he slowly applied pressure to the trigger, a thought crossed Frank's mind. He drops the rifle down, and draws his pistol. He's not as familiar with it, but from this distance it would do the trick, besides he wasn't planning on using it on the boy. He slung his rifle with one hand and made his way to the boy soldier. When he was within a few feet of him, he motioned for him to turn around. The boy hesitantly obliged, he obviously thought about screaming for help, but the damned kid was too scared.

When he was fully around, Frank drew his knife from its boot sheath. He quickly reached around the boy, sliting his throat in one motion, being sure to dig into the windpipe so no scream would be heard. Blood spurted from the carotid as the boy went to his knees, and then his face. Frank wiped his blade on the boys back, sheathed it, and resumed his trek. That boy had known war for the past 3 years, it was a pity, but it was war; and there was a reason Frank was the best.
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Niclas sprints across the city street, his heart pounding out of his chest. His safehouse gets closer by the moment.

"Almost there, just stay alive for a few more seconds."

He dives into the rubble of the apartment building before him. He throws his rifle over his shoulder and scans the area; his hand shaking just slightly.

"I'm getting too old for this shit."

He backs into the building slowly and when he's clear from the view of the street he runs up the crumbling steps; loosing his footing a number of times along the way. It's amazing that this building is still standing. It's a skeleton of its former self. Mortar and bricks have been crushed to dust. Plaster and wood lay splintered and still smoking. Niclas swallows his fear and continued to climb until he reaches the 7th and top floor.

He kicks in one of the doors to an apartment. The unmistakable smell of death fills the room. Blood covers most of the furniture and carpets, soaked up only by a thick layer of soot spread over the entire home. There still sitting at their kitchen table is a man, his wife and their little girl; dead and bathed in ash. Niclas turns away and conducts a thorough walk through of the entire apartment. He decides the little girl's bedroom will do. He returns to the living and pushes the couch in front of the apartment door. He begins to rummage through the family's cupboards. Niclas hasn't eaten in days. A old can of potted meat will have to do. Brown water runs from the faucet in the kitchen.

"At least it's not red."

Niclas fills his cantine and returns to the girl's bedroom. What a sad sight this is. Burnt toys are still scattered over the room, her stuffed animals are cinged and her walls charred black from the bombs. The glass from the windows is blow out and covers the floor. Niclas sits in front of the only window in the apartment that looks towards the east; towards the watchtower.

"Yes, here we go. Are you over there, my old friend? Are you ready to join your brothers in death?"
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Frank reached the bottom floor of the apartment without further incident. He slowly pushed in the side door, careful not to knock the decaying piece of wood fall apart and reveal his position.

Upon entering, Frank had to put his handkiercheif to his face. The stink of death was everywhere, he could see a set of hands peering out from the rubble. Apparently they'd been there awhile, the meat had started to rot and some bone was visible. The building was a wreck, but it would serve his purpose. Frank edged his way closer to the stairwell when a noise startled him. It wasn't loud, but it was apparent. It was the sound of water moving through pipe, most likely on its way up to the top floor.

[I]Nichlas, you dog. You knew I would've seen that tower to eh? Well you weren't mistaken there. It's too bad you allowed yourself to make this one.[/I] Frank allowed a smile to escape his lips, it appeared this would be over a lot sooner than he thought. Frank drew his pistol, it was time.
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Niclas peers out of the window through his binoculars; his eyes are fixed upon the watchtower. Everything is still; there is no movement. Niclas chokes the last of the potted meat down and stands up slowly. The sun is setting behind him and the Eastern sky quickly grows dark. He throws back some water from his cantine.

"Soon I won't be able to see a thing."

He gives one last glance over to the watchtower and then walks from the bedroom. From this height that watchtower was the only place a sniper could reach him, so if he stays clear of that bedroom window he should be safe... for now.

He paces around the apartment, unable to stop himself from staring at the dead family around the table. He enters the kitchen and slowly walks up to them. He pulls a chair up next to the little girl, and eases himself into it. The last remaining light masks her in shadow. Her eyes are closed tightly as if still waiting for a chance to open them. Her skin was burned but she didn't look scared. The shock wave killed them, they only burned after they were dead. This wasn't the war Niclas signed up for, the war his countrymen were promised. This was horror, devastation and cruelty.

"But that [I]is[/I] war..." Niclas mutters to himself.

He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes. He shakes one out of the open soft pack, strikes a match off of the table and lights it up. He unclasps the button on the holster around his waist and pulls out his Bull Pistol. Niclas flips open the barrel: loaded. Six .70 calibar rounds fill the chamber. This gun was more like a hand cannon.

Niclas sits at the table, his burning cigarette hanging from his lips, the Bull pistol grasped tightly in his hand, and darkness falling over Dresden.

"Are you going to come for me, my friend; have you already begun? Or do I have to come for you?"
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Frank checked every floor on the way up the building the best he could in the dwindling light. He just knew it had be Niclas, he didn't know how he knew but he did. The stairwell was the worst part of the building, the wooden stairs splintered and cracked under every step he took. [I]God Damnit, there's no way I can sneak up on him like this[/I]

Frank considered retreating, trying to make it to the watchtower. That thought was folly and he knew it though, there was open ground between there and here. Even in this light there was a strong chance he'd take a bullet to the head. The pistol felt wet in his hands, looking down it was becasue he was sweating a ton. For the first time in this damned war he was nervous, being a sniper was easy for him. He'd killed 15 men, 3 of them were snipers like him. But Niclas, he was different; Niclas was the reason that over 30 good soldiers had lost their lives.

Frank finally reached the top floor, this particular floor only had one door. It must've been for the superintendent and his family, maybe this was a stroke of luck?

Frank slowly pushed in the door, that he probably could've blew down, easing his way in the whole time expecting a bullet to the brain. He inched his way in, and immediatealy saw Nichlas. He was sitting at a window, starring out.

Frank eased his way in the room, careful of tripwires or other boobie traps that could make this victory hollow. He looked to his right, a family was sitting at the table apparently a husband, a wife, a little girl, and an older brother. The sight almost made frank gag, he inched his way towards the window. When he was in range to pull of a shot without a chance of missing, Frank shot a single shot into the head.

He then hit the floor as the expected shot rang out, luckily he saw the head of the decoy roll off just before the shot came. [I]That bastard must be at the table[/I] Frank sprinted towards the door he came in, another shot. Frank dove out the door, rolled up and ran down the stairs to the next floor down. Niclas won this first skrimish, but Frank had already started working on his next plan.
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