Sniper X Scout Novels & Stories

I commanded coldly, checking the ammunition clip of my rifle with a loud, metallic snap. "Sir, Nico says they came through the thick tree line by the creek," Sean said, his hands quickly applying pressure to the boy’s bleeding shoulder. "They avoided the main road cameras completely. They are using suppressed rifles. It’s a targeted hit squad. Probably ten to twelve men from the old Cruz faction who didn't surrender after the safeties were emptied."

"The sweeper. What's he packing?" "Concealed piece under the uniform jacket," the scout said, adjusting his lens. "Small frame. Probably a subcompact." "How's his movement?" "Predictable as hell," the scout snorted. "He’s been sweeping the same ten yards of asphalt for twenty minutes. Checks his watch every four minutes on the dot." Takahashi’s operatives were getting sloppy, acting like the pavement already belonged to them. "They're staring right at Dominic," the scout whispered. "Good. Let them eat the bait," Hugo said, leaning over the concrete ledge. "We learn their habits, we map their spots, and then we erase them."

Anna moved from behind the sniper gun she was setting. Brianna just needed the sniper gun to get a grip on her target. She did not bring the whole of it. And it wasn’t the gun she would use in case she gets the information she needs from Jack Foster. The one she brought with her today was an airsoft sniper gun, a Novsitsch SSG10 A3 airsoft sniper gun, with only a short barrel, bipod, and sniper scope. There was no butt pad, so the long gun wasn’t that long as usual, and there was no magazine, no ammo, too.

And I did. A shiver shot down my spine. My blood ignited. My fangs grew sharper. Mason was no longer just a looming threat. He was making his claim. I sensed Sienna’s footsteps approach, silent but urgent. “Do you recognize the scout?” she asked, her voice low and tense. “Riker. Trained alongside me as a kid.” I kept my gaze fixed ahead. “He had a mate and two pups.” “Gods.” Her voice trembled before hardening with determination. “How close to the territory line?”

Scouts froze mid-step, waiting for orders, knowing instinctively that Zade and Xander’s presence meant no hasty action—only calculated response. The first figure emerged fully from the tree line—a scout from Ironclad, masked and armored, weapon drawn, testing distance. Zade’s muscles coiled, not to strike, but to observe, to measure. Xander’s eyes met his, and the tension between them wasn’t just professional anymore. It was primal, raw. Both understood the danger of misstep—not only from Ironclad, but from the magnetism that had been growing stronger since that night in the archives when lines blurred between fear and desire.

He shifted in time to avoid being seen by him or the sniper, both no more than two hundred feet away. The sniper kept his attention on his Colt M4 rifle with the detachable suppressor and adjusted his sights. The spotter's lips moved as he spoke quietly to the gunman. The pair should never have allowed Alexus to get this close, but they didn't know. He'd leave behind the team, and soon it would be all over. For them. Alexus started to move again. The sniper's body tensed as if sensing something. Alexus froze. The spotter disappeared from view. A moment later, the sniper swung his sights on Alexus.

“We use 4D projections, moving targets.” Valeria presses a button, a projection flees in front of us, a faceless figure running around until she shoots the target, and it disintegrates into cubes. “Think you can handle that? It requires fast reflexes that humans don’t have.” She continuously berated. My heart pounded with excitement, electricity sparking in my veins as I curled my fingers around the rifle. Delicately tracing the cartridge, lifting it in my arms and indulging in its lightweight and efficiency. A Scorpion, semi rifle and those were of the top range. Only the elite were granted access, and I knew that from working for Nathan. She slid the magazine over and I took out the bullet

The healer pushed forward, but the scout clawed weakly at the earth, forcing himself upright as if his body refused to die until the words left his mouth. His gaze lifted. It locked onto Ronan. Then it flicked to the elders. Then, finally, it landed on Morrigan. His expression twisted, not with fear, but with something worse. Betrayal. “Stop…” the scout rasped. Elder Soren stepped forward, impatient. “This is sacred ground. Remove him.” The scout coughed again, blood staining his lips. “No,” he choked out. “I have to." Morrigan’s voice remained calm. “He is delirious,” she said gently. “The poor wolf is injured.”

I said as I looked the man over once before turning to Kane, he opened his mouth but Aramis spoke first, my attention going back to him. “Hunters are an elite squad within wolf packs. Similar to Scouts in their skill set but more prone to apprehension and elimination. Think of us like Bounty Hunters while Scouts are trackers and protectors. Hunters are the elite of the elite and we are the only pack that has them.” He explained, his confidence and hubris apparent when he spoke of them. I raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly, impressed but still suspicious of the wolf in question. There was just something about him that didn’t sit right with me.

“We are almost there.” Their guide said with a thick accent. Few minutes later, they were at the top of one of the numerous hills in the afghan mountains. Below them was a poppy farm with six simple huts built on a straight row. Oscar immediately started setting up the radio to communicate with their superior officer back at the base while she set up her M40 sniper rifle. Their guide sat on a rock and watched them quietly as she and Oscar hurriedly prepped for their mission. ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !