being hastily evacuated and resettled east of the Cascade Mountain range made it not much of a challenge at all. Under threat of nuclear strike the Army had only twenty-some hours left of the seventy-two they'd been given to complete this formidable task, leaving the city-sized compound for the invading forces. She used this environment of controlled chaos to her advantage, perfectly.
Her "kit" was a little different than your regular sniper tech. Not currently active-duty in the strictest sense, she carried the older M24 rifle with Leupold Mk 4 LR/T M3 3.5-10-40mm variable power scope. Preferring as much flexibility as possible in the field, this setup would work just fine.
Orders had come down from base command for full evac and there was little time to think, even less to act. Though the terrain here was a marked contrast to what she encountered during her six total tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, the same ageless adage applied: adapt or die. She was battle-tested yet not battle hardened. Such a rare outcome for someone in her position. The transition from hot zone combat had been, thankfully, easier than what many other good men and women had experienced. She'd had help.
Sanchez' CO understood when to call it quits on her behalf. After the initial distaste of being recalled had faded, her disappointment morphed into thankfulness for the transfer, a quiet appreciation she needn't press fate one more time. She had performed at the highest levels in the harshest of circumstances, serving her country with honor and distinction. So the seasoned warrior turned from ops to prep, training up the next generation of stealthy warriors. For the last two years Sanchez had run a pre-qualifying unit at the joint-forces base in Washington, functioning as the prelim filter for the rookie classes of the formal two-year sniper school at Fort Benning, Georgia. Ever the demanding tutor, her students had taken the program at Benning by storm, carrying on her personal legacy of excellence and valor in her stead.
Sanchez wasn't averse to lethal force, applied in wartime situations. Bothering herself with the bigger questions involved always seemed a few steps removed from the needs of the moment. She didn't enjoy it. She found it necessary. She was good at it. The young officer bore the intellect, body type, training, and personality to do the job, so she would get it done, whatever that meant. Make no mistake, the sergeant would start a shooting war with China all on her own if needed. But her main goal right now, the second vital skill-set of sniper personnel, was battlefield recon. Her country would need someone eyes on as their new bosses settled into place in Western Washington. So her first act of patriotism was simply to go away, to become a non-person in the surrounding environment.
Further into the unending stand of seventy-five-foot evergreens she slid, relaxing only the slightest bit, enough to look back at what was sadly becoming a ghost town.
Unbelievable. Just unbelievable.
"Not the end of the story, though," she whispered. "Not if I have a say."
__________________________________
Three hundred yards from Sanchez' position, Major General Mike Stevens, US Army I Corps, Commanding Officer JBLM, stood stock-still, watching an endless flow of men and materiel load into the gargantuan flying containers known as the C17 Globemaster III. The Boeing cargo carriers' job was to ferry American combat troops and equipment wherever and whenever needed, answering every planned for and unannounced call of duty. From this timeworn place of honorable service they had been reduced now to little more than an expensive fleet of flying moving trucks for the retreating U.S. forces. Disgusting was the acceptable version of the words coming to mind, as each plane lifting off the runway planted only increased bitterness in the general's mouth; a taste few American leaders had ever been forced to experience.
The last full-forces
Her "kit" was a little different than your regular sniper tech. Not currently active-duty in the strictest sense, she carried the older M24 rifle with Leupold Mk 4 LR/T M3 3.5-10-40mm variable power scope. Preferring as much flexibility as possible in the field, this setup would work just fine.
Orders had come down from base command for full evac and there was little time to think, even less to act. Though the terrain here was a marked contrast to what she encountered during her six total tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, the same ageless adage applied: adapt or die. She was battle-tested yet not battle hardened. Such a rare outcome for someone in her position. The transition from hot zone combat had been, thankfully, easier than what many other good men and women had experienced. She'd had help.
Sanchez' CO understood when to call it quits on her behalf. After the initial distaste of being recalled had faded, her disappointment morphed into thankfulness for the transfer, a quiet appreciation she needn't press fate one more time. She had performed at the highest levels in the harshest of circumstances, serving her country with honor and distinction. So the seasoned warrior turned from ops to prep, training up the next generation of stealthy warriors. For the last two years Sanchez had run a pre-qualifying unit at the joint-forces base in Washington, functioning as the prelim filter for the rookie classes of the formal two-year sniper school at Fort Benning, Georgia. Ever the demanding tutor, her students had taken the program at Benning by storm, carrying on her personal legacy of excellence and valor in her stead.
Sanchez wasn't averse to lethal force, applied in wartime situations. Bothering herself with the bigger questions involved always seemed a few steps removed from the needs of the moment. She didn't enjoy it. She found it necessary. She was good at it. The young officer bore the intellect, body type, training, and personality to do the job, so she would get it done, whatever that meant. Make no mistake, the sergeant would start a shooting war with China all on her own if needed. But her main goal right now, the second vital skill-set of sniper personnel, was battlefield recon. Her country would need someone eyes on as their new bosses settled into place in Western Washington. So her first act of patriotism was simply to go away, to become a non-person in the surrounding environment.
Further into the unending stand of seventy-five-foot evergreens she slid, relaxing only the slightest bit, enough to look back at what was sadly becoming a ghost town.
Unbelievable. Just unbelievable.
"Not the end of the story, though," she whispered. "Not if I have a say."
__________________________________
Three hundred yards from Sanchez' position, Major General Mike Stevens, US Army I Corps, Commanding Officer JBLM, stood stock-still, watching an endless flow of men and materiel load into the gargantuan flying containers known as the C17 Globemaster III. The Boeing cargo carriers' job was to ferry American combat troops and equipment wherever and whenever needed, answering every planned for and unannounced call of duty. From this timeworn place of honorable service they had been reduced now to little more than an expensive fleet of flying moving trucks for the retreating U.S. forces. Disgusting was the acceptable version of the words coming to mind, as each plane lifting off the runway planted only increased bitterness in the general's mouth; a taste few American leaders had ever been forced to experience.
The last full-forces
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