Consulting Sniper (Moran's Story)

Chapter 5: Dishonorable Discharge

The title of this chapter really says it all.

I had only three months left in my training, and I was about to begin my official time in the army. I was actually doing very well for myself, and the progress I had made was immense.

I was the best in my platoon. No contest at all. I mean I was really good, like I'd got so good that I was shooting from nearly half a mile away, hitting targets as projectiles were thrown in my way.

And people would watch me shoot, that's how good I was. I had some friends, and they would cheer for me when I'd hit something particularly far away.

Bottom line, I was certainly making a name for myself. I once even competed against colonels, and out-shot them, if that's even a thing.

I was getting kind of full of myself too, as you can clearly see. It was like a brand-new kind of high, when I stood behind the rifle knowing I had all the power in the world and peoples' lives in my hand and more. It was an insane feeling and I'd smile like an idiot when I lay in the grass and shot.

I think it got to the point where I was too good to be even a budding colonel. Shooting targets located more than a half a mile away from where I was sitting.

I think maybe it got to the point where my superiors didn't know what to do with me. I remember I heard one man say once that I'd better not get myself captured in combat.

"Your skills are too good to be used against us. You know that, right?"

So all good things come to an equally straightforward end. As did my career as a future army sniper.

He had to have been planted there to force me to do what I did. I didn't know how to handle him. And the army knew it well enough. They didn't much help me, either.

I think it all started when he heard my American accent. First, he got suspicious. Then, he got jealous of my obvious skill. Next, he realized how egotistical I actually was. Lastly, he decided to make my life hell on earth.

His name was Peter Smith, by the way. And I wanted so badly to chop off his dick and strangle him with it.

"Bet you can't hit that target. I'll have them double your salary if you get this. Come on, sweetheart! Ohhh! Your salary just doubled- no- quadrupled. What? You want me to leave? Okay."

He never stopped, that asshole. Then, it got insulting.

"You're not even a very good sniper anyway. You suck, in fact. A half a mile? I can do double that! You think you're hot shit because you're one of only two women here. Well, I'll show you hot shit. Watch this."

"FUCK OFF!" I'd yell.

"Moran! Watch that mouth!" My commander would yell back.

"Fuck off," I'd whisper in Peter's ear, then push him forward onto his gun so that sometimes it would even fire under him and I'd laugh every time I saw him for a good three days.

Finally, it stopped. Nothing. I heard not one word from him for weeks.

But then, he decided to pull the last straw.

"Moran? Instead of shooting that gun while laying on the floor, why don't you do something else while laying there? Like ME!"

I finally decided to take matters into my own hands. As you could probably imagine, I was laying on the floor trying to shoot. I stood up suddenly and whirled around to face him.

Peter hadn't expected it. "Why don't you JUST. FUCK. OFF?!?!" I yelled, my rage barely containable. Peter stared at me back.

He opened his mouth.

"You say one word and I swear to God I will make you wish you'd never been born," I threatened.

"But you still aren't done with target practice yet!" he had the gall to respond.

That was it. I grabbed his throat and shoved him to the floor. He and I began to engage in hand-to-hand combat. I almost beat his ass so hard that he would have had to have it in ice for a week. It was fantastic.

But like I said, I ALMOST did that. What I really did was grab my gun and shoot him in both feet.

My platoon commander literally had to pull me off him. I was still swinging my knife when he was dragging me away.

"Let me go! I haven't killed him yet!"

Well, that was the end of Sabrina Moran the future army sniper in a nutshell.

They'd made a deal with me that I'd not tell anyone about it in exchange for an up-front monetary severance pay. I didn't tell anyone for a good two decades about the incident as a result.

But all secrets must be told. And so here I am telling you now.

They'd also told me that if I ever tried to join the army again, they'd have me jailed or killed. But they said this knowing that I was too skilled in only that one area to do basically anything else in the civilian workforce.

Even when I finally got back to Conduit Street with my old uniform, my two rifles and a pistol, and my old hand knives, various army snipers tried to assassinate me on three separate occasions before they finally gave up in the late months of 2018. By then, I'd been discharged for nearly nine months already.

Now, I was jobless again. I had money now, but still not enough. But now, I was over twenty-one. Years ago, if someone had told me that this is what I would have been doing with my twenty-first year, running from the army and trying to get a job, I think I would have laughed. I had no real purpose for my life.

Until yet another ad saved my life. This time, it was one for an archaeological dig that was about to begin in under a month. They needed a guard with gun skills, ASAP. And I did not plan to disappoint.

*Thanks for reading this far if you have :) I reached fifty reads today, so thanks for that too! I know this beginning hasn't been the best ever (this is only my first draft of this) but I promise the next few chapters will get EXTREMELY interesting. They are my favorite chapters of the entire story, so stay tuned. I can't wait to share them with you!*