Scout X Sniper Novels & Stories

She muttered as she aligned the criss cross mark of her sniper scope to the head of the terrorist with the gun. She held her breadth and pulled the trigger at the same time when he raised his rifle to shoot the third captive. The gun fell from his hand first before the man followed. There was panic amongst the other two who looked around in confusion. One of the men made a dash to the fallen weapon of his comrade but she followed him swiftly, the criss cross mark of her sniper moving behind her new target till her focus point was centered on his chest, then she pulled the trigger. A second later, the man was flying backwards in the air before landing on the floor motionless.

They would let Alpha Ethan explain their thoughts later. Then, Beta Noah approached Victor, sitting in the middle of the council, "Victor, here comes our hero!" Beta Noah said while clapping his hands, and those in the meeting hall also welcomed Victor's presence. "That's right, Victor, you are the most reliable scout. You have excellent tracking skills. You're a brave man willing to take risks," the Delta said. "You can. I must serve and risk my life for this pack," Victor said. The job was dangerous, as scouts often had to infiltrate enemy territory and become secret, hard-to-find intelligence.

The scout on the left screamed as the blinding sapphire light overloaded his night-vision gear, his rifle discharging harmlessly into the ceiling, chipping chunks of old concrete down into the sludge. Leo burst around the corner before the smoke could settle. He didn't use his blade. In the tight space, he weaponized his raw physical mass. He slammed his titanium-clad shoulder directly into the first scout’s chest, pinning him flat against the concrete wall with enough force to shatter the structural composite of his tactical vest. The man went limp instantly, dropping into the shallow water of the drain. The second shooter tried to swing his rifle barrel toward Aria, but she was already mov

Coco went to a knee beside him. "Our job. You're my lookout." Paxton hadn't brought his sniper gear with him, but he'd make do with their standard issue rifle. "But we're up here." He turned his head and even with the mask obscuring her features he could see the frown lines, the glare. "I'm a sniper. This is what I do best." He reached up and tapped the comm. "Team Leader in position. Sound off." One by one the four teams chimed in. "I cannot believe this," Coco muttered.

His name is Zeke Santos and the sniper of the team. "What happened?" a handsome man asked. He's Evan Potter and the Team Captain. He is respected by his men deeply. He looked outside again by using the telescope. "WHAT IS SHE DOING?! IS SHE COURTING DEATH?!" another man loudly said as he felt scared for the high school girl. His name is Garry Vallens and the bomb expert of the team. "SHIT! THAT ZOMBIE IGNORE HER?!" another man cursed. His name is Tyler Swift and the strategist of the team.

Snow weighed down its branches and offered solid concealment. A sniper rifle appeared in his hands, wrapped in white cloth. It was not the old police rifle. This was a military-grade model designed to function reliably in harsh conditions. Even extreme cold could not degrade its performance. Cyrus dropped to one knee, braced the rifle against a forked branch, and lined up the scope on the canvas bag by the door. He was half a mile away. If Dorian showed himself, Cyrus could kill him instantly. Once everything was in place, Cyrus pulled out his phone and sent a message.

Someone from outside—the sniper, her brain gamely supplied, they’d said there was a contract this week, didn’t expect it so soon—cycled the bolt on a rifle, icy-precise. Wyn’s breath lit the air between them, little puffs of pure terror. Xander’s pupils were murder, narrowed and sharp-shining, and his hand squeezed Wyn’s neck shoulder-tight until the kid blinked back into reality. “We’ve got to move,” he hissed. Below, the stairwell filled with boot-thumps and the sound of Morgan’s voice, pitching orders in that frosted, minister’s calm she deployed for open wounds and close calls. Carolina clawed to her knees, vision throbbing, and levered Wyn up by the collar.

“Jerry, I’m with you. I’m in this damn tunnel for you. Stop listening to that shard!” “Focus, Sasha,” Levin said, his voice hard. “You find them, confirm who this hunter is. No fighting. Scout only.” “Scout?” I laughed, bitter, my knife glinting in the dark. “Levin, if Tara’s here, she’s trouble. She doesn’t talk—she hunts. I can take her.” “No,” Levin snapped. “You’re pack now. You follow orders. Scout, report back.” “Orders?” I muttered, my voice low, moving forward. “I’m a hunter, Levin. I know these tunnels. If Tara’s with Brad, I can stop them.”

Miguel was cleaning his caliber 45 in his hut at their camp. That’s where he would live with the other soldiers. He felt like the gun is already a part of him. It was with him like forever. It was his partner way before he was still starting in the army up until now that he became an officer designated in this province. At the age of 28, he’s already successful with what he has achieved in the army. But he admits that it was not an easy road going to where he is now.

Loud and shrill screams rung in the air as people shouted in utter fear. The group of cats ran hearing the piercing noise and made loud noises in the air. Nathan put the rifle beside him and smirked looking at his aim. The gunshot hit exactly at the target, man’s heart, after all, he was a professional shooter and that too merciless. His task was completed. Putting the rifle back in its case and taking off the ear protection, he picked up the case, and within thirty seconds he was out of the house... He is Nathan Williams, the Scorpion of the underworld. The most dangerous and feared mafia lord of Chicago...