[ About Dark Truth ]
[ Extract ]
The conditions were near perfect; there was only a very gentle breeze. His location afforded him an ideal view of the occupant’s back garden.
He was situated on a small hill approximately 150 yards away — he was well concealed amongst some thick brush. He had been waiting patiently for nearly thirty minutes now and knew it was a case of when, not if his target came out into the back garden, especially given it was a lovely late summer’s night.
He looked at his watch; it was almost half ten — then out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a silhouette move past the rear patio doors. He looked through the red dot sight of his rifle but there was no one at the patio door. He was glad he had recently invested in a bipod to rest his rifle on so he wouldn’t have to hold it. He wasn’t a bad shot but practising on static objects was one thing, trying to hit a moving target was a completely different proposition.
There was still no sign of movement but he was prepared to wait it out for another hour or two if need be — the pay off would be worth it. Just then he started to feel some light drops of rain on his forehead, this was the last thing he needed, if it turned into a full-on downpour that would pretty much end any hope of his target going outside.
The rain did get worse but fortunately it only lasted for fifteen minutes before it completely stopped. A few minutes beforehand his target had stood by the patio door briefly looking out across the garden, no doubt checking to see if the rain was beginning to ease. Now that the rain had stopped, surely she would be going out into the garden very shortly he thought to himself.
He got his wish soon after as just a couple of minutes later he saw the patio door slide open and his target walk slowly out onto the patio. She walked towards the end of the garden, when she was almost at the end she stopped and started looking around. He saw this as his chance — he looked through the sight and aligned the red dot right in between her eyes then gently rested his right forefinger on the trigger. He could feel the adrenaline starting to pump through his body; he needed to control his breathing so he started breathing gently through his nose.
‘On the count of three,’ he said to himself. ‘Three, two, one.’
On the count of one he exhaled and squeezed the trigger — a split second later his target slumped to the ground. He didn’t need to wait around to confirm the kill; he knew he had executed the 6 perfect shot. He detached the rifle from the bipod then put them both in his sports holdall before making his way down the far side of the hill where he had parked his car.