Sniper X Scout Novels & Stories

Each one stacked neatly atop the other, marked only by numbers and cryptic symbols. "What the hell is this place?" Vargo muttered, almost reverently. I moved to the nearest crate, my curiosity overriding my hesitation. The old wood creaked as I pried the lid open. Nestled within, surrounded by foam and cloth, was a sniper rifle unlike anything I'd ever seen. Sleek. Matte black. Modified beyond standard military specs. I reached in and lifted it carefully. Its weight was solid. Cold. Deadly. "The Viper-X," I read the label etched along the barrel.

They wouldn't risk forging her name," another replied. Xavier smirked in the dark. Oh, but we would. The lead scout stepped into the center of the ruins, boot crunching over dried leaves. He raised the letter again, eyes darting. "Where is she?" That was when the first smoke dart hissed through the air. A loud bang. Clouds of silver mist erupted, choking visibility. Arrows slammed into the ground at their feet—not to kill, but to corral. One man stumbled into a tripwire and was swept off his feet. From above, Xavier dropped like a shadow, landing inches before the leader. Blade unsheathed. "Evening," he said, voice low and calm. The man fumbled for his weapon, but Xavier kicked it from his g

The faint ripple of a sniper’s nest shifting focus. Whisper was regrouping. And they were angry. As Ethan and the team reached the east parapet, a shot cracked through the air—so sharp and clean it cut silence in half. It struck the stone inches from Ethan’s head, throwing dust into his hair. Mira reacted first—dragging Ethan behind cover. “Sniper—bipod mount. Roof level. South slope.” Jun peeked from behind a broken rail. “That’s their forward scout. Whisper Team is marking targets.”

Every step was silent calculation; every breath measured to avoid detection. They reached the first target—a heavily fortified supply depot nestled in a ravine. Explosives were carefully planted on stacks of weapons and fuel barrels, timed to ignite chaos and confusion. Travis’s heart pounded not just with adrenaline but with the distant thought of Lena waiting in fragile safety. Suddenly, a sharp crack—a twig snapped under enemy boots. The team froze as loyalist scouts approached, voices low and harsh. A brief but fierce skirmish erupted, shadows and steel clashing in deadly dance. Travis moved with lethal precision, protecting his team and the mission.

“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.”

"Two scouts. Fast, quiet, thermal-masking. Reach the relay station through the southwest arc, disrupt the transmission." "That's two scouts inside a ring of fifty-four siege engines," one of Vance's wolves said. "Two scouts who grew up on ridges in the dark," Xander said. "Which is exactly what this requires." He looked at Vance. Vance looked at his scouts. Two of them were already checking their gear without being asked. "Thirty minutes to position," the first one said. "Twenty-five," Xander said. The scout looked at the terrain. "Twenty-five," she agreed.

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.

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

2 minutes later: "Unit three report! Targets on sight, but vision is kind of blurry. I don't know what is happening, but we can't get a better view of them. Copy." Janet. "Shit shit shit! How is that possible? Unit three, Shine what is your report? Copy." Gal asked. "Same issue here, copy." Anthony. "Fuck! What type of sniper is Sharpe with again?" Mercury asked. "A1 AS50. That's the best sniper, with a good compass range. What could possibly go wrong?" I asked looking around, all my senses at alert. Then it was time for the speech, the President with the Six Brigades and Mercury and I, made for the podium.

"Try to keep up." They fell on the scouts like wolves breaking from the brush. Kieran's blade took the first man clean across the throat before he could stand. Selena ducked under a wild swing, her dagger punching up into the soft flesh beneath a man's chin. Blood spattered her cheek, warm against the cold. She pivoted, caught the wrist of another, twisted until the bones popped and the sword dropped to the snow. A shout cracked through the clearing , the wounded scout lunging for a fallen bow. Elric's arrow found him first, pinning him to the frost-hard ground.