I perched there, the rooftop of a Rubican home. It didn’t matter that the house belonged to a citizen; we were the Grand Navy, and as long as it was in the name of justice, we did as we please. My bronze musket was held right in front of my eye, ready to take a shot.
Captain John Mac laid next to me, his musket ready to fire as well.
“Which vehicle will he be in?” Captain Mac asked.
I shook my head. “They constantly rotate for security. We won’t know until he steps out.”
Captain Mac stopped aiming and looked at me. He raised an eyebrow.
“You seem to know a lot about Makarov.” He said, a note of suspicion in his voice.
I sighed. I did indeed know about our target: Vlad Makarov. Many in the Bronze Sea shuddered at the sound of his name. He was a ruthless nationalist and militant, who idolized Nero Caesar’s vision of a great Ravennan Empire and would resort to any measures to make sure that the King would once again begin would once again embark on foreign conquests, even if it means targeting us - the Grand Navy.
“Alpha one, communications check, over.” The sniper from a roof of a Castello tower signaled to us.
Captain Mac shook his hand in a gibberish pattern. “Bravo one, copy. We’re dug in with line of sight.”
The other sniper acknowledged. “Right. Kuznetsov is our eyes and ears inside the Castello. Once he gives us a nod, we’ll kick this off.”
A while passes. Makarov should have been here by now.
“What do you see?” The other sniper signaled.
Captain Mac clenched his teeth in frustration and impatience. “Bugger-all, mate. Looks like Makarov is late for his own funeral.” He signaled back.
The sniper shook his head. “Sit tight until we get a clean shot. Then you can put as many rounds on him as you like.”
Mac smirked. “It’ll only take one.”
Some time passed, and I loaded a bullet into my musket. If I missed, this was all done for. Reloading a musket wasn’t easy. And we three snipers knew about this.
“The meeting will be on the second floor.” Captain Mac stated.
I nodded, not uttering a word. And scouted around the Rubican streets. There I saw the armored chariots. Multiple of them.
“Heads up. Makarov’s convoy is arriving now.” The other sniper announced.
Captain Mac remained calm. “I see it. Four armored vehicles. No visual on Makarov yet.”
The chariots stopped. Right in front of the gates of the Ravenna Castello. A figure stepped out, dressed in a professional suit. That was our target. The one that I met personally: Vlad Makarov.
The other sniper signaled once again. “Do you see him?”
Captain Mac nodded, his voiced laced with an eerie coldness. “Aye. That’s the bastard. Third vehicle.”
The figure turned around.
“Shite. I think he’s looking right at us.”
“Easy.” The sniper said, trying to calm the silent anxiety between us. “Just sit tight.”
“They’re pulling into the entrance now.” Captain John Mac announced.
“Alright Kuznetsov. You’re up.” The other sniper signaled.
No response.
That’s strange. Kuznetsov was supremely loyal to the Grand Navy. Why was his signal out now?
“Kuznetsov, do you read me?”
