Righteous Sniper

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The Obersturmbannführer’s assessment of Hauptmann Messner being proud and determined was all too accurate. Like a hunting dog with the scent of the quarry in his nose, Messner hurried to follow the tracks in the snow. Behind him, Dietzel followed more cautiously, not as eager to walk forward into the woods. The Jaeger’s eyes stared into the distance, as if willing the trees to part and give him a clear view of what lay ahead. He knew all too well that they might be walking into the other sniper’s sights.

Messner didn’t have the patience for caution. “Hurry it up, for God’s sake! I don’t want to spend another night in these godforsaken woods, not with so many Ami soldiers around. Besides, my toes are getting so cold that I can’t feel them. The sooner that we catch up to them and put an end to things, the better. Then we can find a fire somewhere and some hot food.”

“As you say, Herr Hauptmann,” the Jaeger said, but he didn’t walk any faster, much to Messner’s frustration.

“You are moving like an old lady.”

“Sir, you know that they outnumber us now?”

“Since when were two German soldiers outnumbered by less than twenty men?” Messner asked incredulously. It was a common notion that one good Soldat was worth several American GIs.

Dietzel remained silent, as if he wasn’t so sure.

Messner was not about to slow his pace, but he had to admit that the American sniper, at least, was a formidable opponent. Gettinger was dead, having been shot in the head by the American sniper during the ambush. Gettinger’s death had shocked him, first because the man had barely shown himself, not offering much of a target before being picked off, and second because Gettinger had been with him so long — longer even than Dietzel.

Gettinger had survived with him through thick and thin, almost like Messner’s very own good-luck charm, a life-size lucky rabbit’s foot. Messner would be lying if he didn’t feel a pang of sorrow at Gettinger’s death, but also anger that he had exposed himself.

The dummkopf should have done more to keep his head down.

Then again, the Germans had also taken their toll. Dietzel had managed to hit one of them — the British officer. There was blood on the snow, each dot like a liquid ruby, indicating that it was a bad wound. If nothing else, the wounded man would slow them down.

Unfortunately, it had not been Bauer who had been shot. Messner had pursued him this far; he intended to keep going until Bauer was dead.

Messner couldn’t believe that the Americans were still defending Bauer. It seemed foolish at this point, almost insane. Why not just give up their prisoner?

For the same reason that the Americans had not surrendered Bastogne, he thought. They were a stubborn bunch.

No matter. At this point, there was no way that he would allow any of them to live, even after he killed Bauer. He owed Gettinger that much.

Moving through the woods, they reached a place where the ground rose sharply. The tracks went right up the hillside, although even Messner’s untrained eye could see that their quarry had struggled, slipping and sliding on the snowy, frozen slope.

“I do not like the looks of this hill, Herr Hauptmann,” Dietzel said. “I won’t have my hands free to use my rifle if I need to.”

“You worry too much,” Messner said. “They are like scared rabbits, yet you expect them to turn and fight?”

The Hauptmann slung his MP 40 so that it hung across his back, keeping it out of the snow and forest debris. Dietzel had no choice but to sling his rifle in the same way, allowing him to pull himself up the slope using exposed tree roots and knobs of rock jutting from the snowy ground. Even so, he still slid down in places, making an awful racket as branches cracked and stones tumbled. If their quarry hadn’t known they were coming, they did now.

Halfway up, Dietzel proved to be right when a couple of rifle shots shattered the stillness of the winter air. The rifle shots had come from above. Both men buried their faces in the snow and dirt.

“They are shooting at nothing,” Dietzel announced after several tense minutes. “Those shots did not come anywhere near us.”

And yet the shots did just what they had been intended to do, which was to slow them down and make the pursuers move more cautiously.

Finally, they reached the crest of the slope. The tracks continued into the forest.

Messner was panting from the effort of climbing the hill. But he wasn’t about to slow down or give up. “Come on,” he managed to gasp.

Cole weighed their options and came up with a plan. He and Bauer would hang back to deal with the Germans. Vaccaro would go with Lieutenant Rupert and the girl, because at this point, the lieutenant needed to be helped along and Lena didn’t have the physical strength to do it alone. To make matters worse, the ankle that she had twisted on the road still bothered her. Plus, if they ran into any trouble, they would need Vaccaro’s rifle. He was the only one among those three in any condition to fight.

The trio would keep moving, sweeping around in a wide circle to reach the road again, hopefully skirting their pursuers in the process.

“I’m not gonna argue, but I don’t like it,” Vaccaro said, once he heard the plan. To his credit, he made no mention of simply turning Bauer over to the Germans and being done with the whole mission. They had come too far for that.

“Let’s finish this,” Cole said. Then he took Vaccaro aside and added, “Listen here, city boy. If Herr Barnstormer and I don’t make it, find that road and keep going until you reach our lines and get the lieutenant some help. Don’t let that girl go back alone, neither, no matter how much she’s worried about her mother.”

“You’ll make it.”

“Sure we will,” Cole said. “I’m just saying it as a count ten and see plan.”

“I think you mean contingency plan.”

“What I mean is, I’ll see you when I see you. Now let’s get a move on.”

Cole gave a nod to Bauer, and the two men let the others head out, then they moved in another direction altogether.

“What do you have in mind?” Bauer asked. He touched the handle of the revolver jutting from his coat pocket. “I will need to be close to have any chance with this pistol.”

“If this Jaeger of yours is any good at all, he’ll see that those are German boot prints in the snow, and he’ll follow our trail instead of the others.”

“Ah, but then what?” Once again Bauer flashed him that amused smile. Cole was glad to see that the German didn’t seem to have the least bit of fear.

“Then this,” Cole said. They had reached a clear space in the forest. He intended for this to be where his own trail diverged from Bauer’s, but first he needed to set a trap, using Bauer as bait.

Growing up in the mountains, Cole had learned to be a master trapper. He had often learned the hard way, once nearly drowning in a frozen mountain stream when he’d gotten caught in one of his own traps. He hadn’t made that mistake again. From time to time he had put his trapping skills to use against the enemy. The question was, How much smarter was a German officer than a fox or a raccoon? He was about to find out.

They walked to a likely-looking tree with a fallen log nearby. The tree had created a small clearing when it had fallen. Cole nodded when he saw it, a plan forming in his mind.

“Give me your coat,” he said.

Bauer hesitated, but then a look crossed his face as it seemed to sink in what Cole planned to do. He shed his officer’s coat and handed it to Cole.

He cut a stick to fit inside between the shoulders, almost as if it was on a coat hanger. He then hung the coat from the stub of a broken branch jutting from a tree. He’d basically made a makeshift scarecrow. It wasn’t perfect, but it might be good enough to trick someone at a distance.

“Trample the ground around here so it’s not clear which way you went, then hide behind that log. I’m pretty sure they’ll split up when they see we went in different directions. They won’t want to take a chance that one of us can slip in behind them. They’ll be wanting to get this over with sooner rather than later, anyhow.”

“It is a gamble,” Bauer said, but he nodded in agreement with Cole’s plan.

“When one of them comes along to your hiding place, shoot him. Remember that if it’s Messner, then he’s got a submachine gun, so if you miss, he’s got a lot more bullets to shoot back.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll keep going, and the other one will be on my trail. I’ll bet it’s that Jaeger fella, because Messner will want to go after you personally.”

Bauer nodded, then asked, “What if they both decide to finish me off first, and then go after you?”

“Then I reckon you’re a dead man.”

“Fair enough.”

But Cole had one more trick up his sleeve. He was betting that the two remaining Germans would indeed split up. The German officer would surely go after Bauer. That had been the whole purpose of his pursuit.

Leaving Bauer behind in his hiding place, he retraced their path. About seventy feet away, he reached a point where he would strike out on his own. He wanted to send a message to make certain that the Jaeger followed him instead of going after Bauer. He took a spent shell from his pocket and stuck it on the end of a twig. Then he started off into the woods, carving his own trail.

For the Jaeger, the spent shell from another sniper would be like a gauntlet thrown to the ground.

He wondered how he knew that.

Because I would do the same thing, that’s why. I’d go after the other sniper. Let the officers settle whatever business was between them. When it came to snipers, one man had to prove himself better with a rifle than the other. It was as simple as that.

The question was, Just how good was this Jaeger?

They were about to find out.

Cole hurried, pressing deeper into the snowy forest.

Messner and Dietzel followed the group’s tracks through the snow. To their surprise, the tracks separated. A blood-speckled trail led one way, while two distinct sets of footprints veered off in another — Bauer’s German boots unmistakable among them. Without hesitation, they pursued Bauer’s path, surmising that he and an American had split from the others to avoid being slowed down by the wounded soldier.

It seemed like a cowardly choice, abandoning the slower group to save Bauer’s hide, which wasn’t all that surprising where Bauer was concerned.

They would finish off Bauer first.

“They can’t be far ahead,” Dietzel said.

“Yes, let’s make haste,” Messner agreed, his voice tinged with anticipation. “The sooner we catch them, the better.”

The two Germans quickened their pace, now almost running through the dense woods, eager to close in on their quarry. But soon the trail forked again. The American’s tracks headed one way, while Bauer’s went another. The different boot prints in the snow were as plain to read as a road sign.

“Bauer went this way,” Messner pointed out, noting the difference in the boot prints, something that the Jaeger had shown him earlier. “We need to go after him.”

Messner turned in that direction. However, Dietzel hung back. He had noticed a spent rifle shell stuck on the end of a twig, clearly left as a calling card.

Or an invitation.

“What about the American sniper?” the Jaeger asked. “It looks like he went in this direction.”

“Who cares about him?” Messner snapped in reply. “It’s Bauer that we’re after.”

Still, Dietzel hesitated. “Perhaps you should pursue Bauer alone, Herr Hauptmann. I have a score to settle with the American. He shot Gettinger. Besides, we would be better off knowing that he can’t come after us in these woods.”

Messner was hesitant at first, then nodded his approval. This didn’t mean that he wasn’t somewhat exasperated by the Jaeger’s line of thinking. When he replied, he sounded impatient and annoyed. “Very well. I will track Bauer. It shouldn’t be that hard in this snow. You hunt the American.”

With a single nod, Dietzel disappeared into the forest. Messner, now alone, advanced cautiously. The trees seemed to conspire against him, closing in around him. Then he saw a glimpse of blue-gray — the familiar color of a German uniform — visible among the trees. Once he had spotted it, the uniform coat stood out plainly against the natural surroundings.

“I’ve found you, Bauer. There is no escape now,” Messner whispered, his Schmeisser pistol ready, advancing silently, eyes fixed on the uniform ahead. This business of pursuing Bauer had taken far too long, and he would be glad to conclude it once and for all.

As he crept within arm’s reach, he expected to savor Bauer’s shock before pulling the trigger — but he stepped into the clearing to find only an empty coat, nothing more than a decoy propped up by a branch.

Confusion reigned as trampled snow obscured Bauer’s escape route.

Where has the bastard gone?

Messner was not left wondering for long. From behind a log, Bauer stuck up his head, pistol aimed at Messner’s heart. Messner reacted, but Bauer’s shot rang out first. The bullet’s impact never registered with Messner.

His finger hooked over the trigger as he died, sending a volley of fire from the submachine gun spewing harmlessly into the forest canopy overhead.

Satisfied that Messner had been alone, Bauer left his hiding place. He stood over the Hauptmann and shot him in the head for good measure.

Down the trail, Cole registered the solitary gunshot — a promising sign that one threat was neutralized. However, that had instantly been followed by a burst of automatic fire. It was hard to know what that meant. Had Bauer missed his chance and been gunned down? A final, single pistol shot signaled otherwise. He knew a coup de grâce when he heard one.

Now the final contest fell to him. Cole pressed on, aimless yet determined, as late-afternoon shadows began to claim the forest. He preferred to conclude this chase with daylight as his ally. Otherwise the two snipers would be playing a deadly game of blindman’s bluff. How close was the German sniper on his heels?

Cole was certain the German would follow, because a challenge was irresistible to a man like him. After all, Cole understood the Jaeger, as it was like looking in the mirror. Pressing forward, he discovered a landscape feature that could turn the tables — a ravine, sharply cut into the hillside, almost as if by design rather than by nature. He entered, leaving conspicuous tracks, but it was a deliberate ploy. He wanted to leave no doubt where he had gone.

The ravine, narrow with rocky sides and a dusting of snow, resembled a cattle chute. He had the unsettling thought that it was how cattle were funneled into the slaughterhouse.

Emerging on the other side, Cole saw how the trees had fallen away to create a clearing, because the ground was paved with smooth rock where tree roots could find no purchase. Clearly the same natural forces that had been at work in carving the ravine had also been responsible for this clearing.

Unfortunately, there was no cover to speak of. Cole hoofed it across the rocky space, breaking into a run, feeling exposed at every step. He could almost imagine the German sniper coming out of the ravine, his crosshairs fixing between Cole’s shoulder blades.

He said a silent prayer. Not yet.

He reached a ring of trees on the other side of the clearing and got under cover. Far enough, he thought. This was where the showdown would take place.

Now or never.

Cole rested his rifle across a log to steady it and willed his heart rate to slow down. He wouldn’t be able to shoot worth a damn if he was shaking this much. A minute went by, then another, and he felt steadier.

Putting the scope to his eye, he saw the ravine spring closer, knowing that it was exactly where the German sniper would emerge. There was nothing to do now but wait. He supposed that the German couldn’t be more than a few minutes behind him, but the minutes stretched out longer than they should have.

Cole was puzzled about what was taking the man so long. He took his eye away from the scope and studied the bigger picture of the woods across from him.

That was when he spotted the movement at the top of the ravine.

It was the Jaeger.

Cole’s cold lips formed a grin. You had to hand it to that Kraut. The German had nearly outmaneuvered him, scaling the ravine’s wall to avoid emerging right into Cole’s firing zone.

But Cole was ready, and the German was in his sights, about thirty yards away.

It would be easy enough just to pull the trigger.

But first Cole wanted the man to know that he was about to die.

Cole shouted, “Hey!”

The German had been crab-walking across the top of the ravine, trying to get in position while also keeping an eye out for his target. He froze when he heard Cole’s shout. It was an old trick that hunters used to get a clear shot when an animal wouldn’t stop moving, but the German didn’t freeze for long.

In fact, Cole’s ploy almost cost him the fight.

The Jaeger swung his rifle up and fired, faster than Cole expected.

Something supersonic and angry hissed nearby. Cole didn’t know where the bullet had gone, and he didn’t much care as long as it hadn’t hit him.

The Jaeger had fired too quickly to aim accurately. The man worked the bolt of his own rifle desperately.

With his crosshairs firmly on the German’s chest, Cole fired.

The German sniper sank to his knees, then fell over backward into the snow.

Some distance away, Vaccaro and the others had heard the shots, and they were left wondering what was going on. The outcome was anybody’s guess.

It was hard to think of anyone getting the upper hand on Cole, but in Vaccaro’s experience, war was always a gamble. For now they were still on their own.

Lieutenant Rupert was still struggling through the snow, supported by Lena and Vaccaro. Vaccaro had been left with no choice but to sling his rifle to leave his hands free for that effort. He couldn’t help but think that a crutch would have been more useful than a rifle. They were on the run now, pure and simple.

“Those shots, what do they mean?” Lena asked.

It was a question Rupert would’ve asked as well if he’d had the breath to do so. The British officer looked weak and gray with pain, his face the color of plumbing putty.

“I don’t know for sure,” Vaccaro said. “I don’t hear any more shooting, so that means it’s over for them one way or another. It’s not over for us, though. We need to get back down to that road, where we can get some help for the lieutenant. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

Lena nodded and said, “I know the way.”