Sniper Crossing
May 26th – Houston, Texas
Carlos Whitman sat on the roof of the Brown Convention Center behind his sniper rifle as the Vice-Presidential caravan pulled on to Capitol Street. The big moment was almost here, and he had one task; make sure the two idiots who took the bounty to kill the President and VP didn’t escape. As a member of the Secret Service, he was perfectly positioned for this task.
He’d already spotted Kevin, the tall one in the office building. His muzzle was sticking out of a small hole cut in the window. But where was Scott, the shorter one? He was supposed to be in the hotel. He knew Scott had checked into a room on the twelfth floor, but Carlos couldn’t see anything to indicate which room.
“Hoosier and Hummingbird are approaching,” an agent said over the coms.
That was code for Vice President Michaels and his wife leaving the motorcade and approaching the convention center.
He’d spent six weeks watching Kevin and Scott from a distance, getting to know their habits and quirks. He knew their whole plan, from start to finish. It was a pretty good plan, and they’d trained well enough to hit their targets. They’d taken precautions to avoid leaving evidence and managed to evade the security sweeps so far. They could pull this off and avoid being caught.
Most importantly, they were angry enough to actually pull the trigger. Something you couldn’t train for. Too bad Scott and Kevin weren’t smart enough to realize how deep the conspiracy really went.
The fire alarm went off, exactly as expected, and Carlos finally spotted the muzzle of the rifle sticking out of a twelfth-story window of the hotel.
“We’ve got a fire alarm. Going to exit strategy Alpha. Mogul is on the move,” another agent said, indicting President Towers was exiting the building.
“Hoosier and Hummingbird are pulling back,” the first voice said.
A second after the cars of the two motorcades roared to life, two shots fired almost simultaneously. If he hadn’t been trained in listening to rifle fire, Carlos might have assumed the second shot was an echo.
“Mogul is down! Repeat, Mogul is down!” an agent shouted.1
Carlos didn’t need the earpiece to hear him. He waited for word that Hoosier was down as well.
It never came.
Instead, a window of the office building shattered, revealing Kevin’s position.
“Shooter sighted at one o’clock high,” someone called out.
“I’ve got him,” Carlos said, checking one last time for the wind. It was a long-distance shot, but not difficult for a sniper as experienced as he was.
Carlos fired half a second after the first sniper and a full second before the next two. He watched through his scope as the first shot struck the assassin’s leg, throwing his upper body forward, leaning him out the window. Carlos’s bullet struck Kevin in the chest, throwing the body back inside.
The big guy was dead before he hit the floor of the office, with both legs hanging out. He lay there half a second before gravity took over and pulled him the rest of the way out.
Carlos didn’t watch the body fall. He refocused on the hotel. The shorter man’s muzzle was already gone.
“Hoosier and Hummingbird are away.”
Carlos swore under his breath as he listened to the crackle of agents shouting over their radios. He knew where Scott was, but couldn’t fire on the hotel. No one was talking about a second shooter yet. How could he possibly explain firing on a target no one else knew about?
He’d have to go to the backup plan.
He switched his radio to a different frequency and said, “This is Eagle’s Nest. Target one is down. Target two is loose.”
“Don’t worry, Eagle’s Nest,” Jared called out. “I’ll clean it up.”
An hour later, Jared called back. “Eagle’s Nest, this is Eagle’s Claw. Target two is not on the twelfth floor.”
“You mean he got away?” Carlos asked. His heart started pounding. Despite his strong desire to join Jared in the search for Scott, Carlos hadn’t been cleared to leave the rooftop yet. The hundreds of law enforcement officials who had descended on the scene meant the snipers stayed on the roof.
“He couldn’t have. No one has left the hotel yet. But he’s not on the twelfth floor.”
“I saw the muzzle myself. Target two was definitely on the twelfth floor.”
“Understood, Eagle’s Nest. But he’s not there anymore. Did he complete his mission?”
“Negative.”
Jared let loose a string of profanities.
Carlos ignored the tirade as his mind raced. What should they do? The little bug was supposed to stay put so they could squash him. Now Carlos wasn’t even sure he’d get the reward for eliminating the big guy. “Find a place to watch when the hotel is emptied. Follow him and eliminate him when possible.”
“Will do,” Jared said. “Eagle’s Claw out.”