David Healey

Savage Sniper

A World War II Thriller

1. (adj.) Wild and ferocious; extremely cruel

CHAPTER ONE

Still as stone, Deacon Cole stared through the rifle scope at the ravine directly across from him.

His eye had caught a flicker of movement in that ravine, indicating that Patrol Easy might be walking into an ambush. Maybe it had been only a bird, or some small jungle animal, but his gut told another story. Trusting your gut was the best way to stay alive.

“What is it?” Philly whispered.

“I think I saw something.”

“When you’re nervous, then I know I ought to be nervous.”

“I ain’t nervous,” Deke said. “I’m just trying not to get shot.”

“If that doesn’t make you nervous, then I don’t know what does,” Philly replied.

“Hush now and let me think.”

Philly had his own sniper rifle to his shoulder, peering through the telescopic sight at the tangled vegetation ahead. Though useful, the scope amplified just a small circle of greenery.

It didn’t help that the dense vegetation could have hidden an entire Japanese company, let alone a single sniper. Deke stayed on the scope and waited, staring in hopes of catching the smallest flicker of movement, confident that Philly was watching his back.

Although Philly also carried a sniper rifle, there was no doubt about which of the two men was the better shot. In situations like this, Philly defaulted to being the spotter, keeping an eye on the big picture so that Deke could stay focused on whatever he saw through the narrow field of the rifle scope.

After all, it had been Deke who had spotted something in the ravine. He seemed to have a sixth sense about these things. When Deke said something didn’t feel right, nobody argued.

During their months of fighting, starting with their arrival on Guam, some men had simply survived, but Deke had somehow grown more comfortable in hunting men with a rifle. Philly had also sensed this about Deke, and it sometimes made him wary of the former farm boy, the same way you might watch out for a dog that liked to bite even after you had scratched his ears.

They were in the countryside on the outskirts of Ormoc. The transition from residential areas back to forest was abrupt here, northwest of the city. To the northeast lay vast rice paddies that, in their own way, would likely prove more hazardous than the jungle.

Ormoc had finally fallen to the US Army after fierce street fighting. The port city and its nearby airfield were a vital cog in the wheel that was Leyte. Now that American forces held Ormoc, they were one step closer to taking complete control of Leyte. Of course, that was just one of the Philippine islands, but it was a key Japanese stronghold. Nobody even wanted to think as far ahead as capturing Manila.

This fight came down to one day at a time, one step at a time. That was how you eventually won the war. That was how you stayed alive.

The Japanese had been defeated at Ormoc, but they were far from beaten elsewhere in the jungles and mountains of Leyte. In one of those twists of fate, it was the Japanese who had traded places with the Filipinos, who early in the occupation had fled their villages and homes to shelter in the hills, growing whatever meager crops they could encourage in the rugged soil. Now those refugees were returning to their homes, and it was the Japanese who were taking to the hills to make their last stand.

Patrol Easy’s task was to probe this area, determining where all the enemy units were hidden. It was a job that was easier said than done. It was also a job that was necessary, hard as it might be. The last thing they needed was a clutch of enemy holdouts so close to Ormoc, giving them an easy place from which to launch insurgent attacks.

The enemy was out here, all right. Deke was certain of that. Probably closer than anybody knew. Like maybe right in front of them.

But where?

Deke set aside his rifle and took out his binoculars to scan the jungle. There was nothing but trees and bushes. He continued to look, searching for any sign of movement. Suddenly he spotted the greenery shifting as something pushed through it. He couldn’t tell what it was, but he knew it was the enemy.

“Did you see that?” Philly whispered. “Movement at your two o’clock.”

“I see it,” Deke replied in a barely audible whisper.

He signaled to the others, pointing in the direction where he had seen something moving through the trees. He held his fire, hoping for a clear target.

The rest of the squad took up positions, their weapons at the ready.