Sniper's Justice (Caje Cole Book 9) by David Healey (great books for teens TXT) 📕

Hauer raised the rifle, lining up the sights on Cole, and a chill went through him. This was it. It was all up to Danny now. Silently, he urged his grandson to shoot. Do it now.

Smiling at Cole, Hauer suddenly turned and fired two quick shots at the tree line, in two different directions. To Cole’s relief, the bullets were nowhere near where Danny was hidden, but that wasn’t Hauer’s intention. He’d meant to rattle Danny. He turned back to Cole.

“Right about now, your grandson is probably shaking like a leaf and pissing himself,” Hauer said with a laugh. “We both know what it’s like to have someone shoot at you for the first time.”

“You are a piece of work, Hauer,” Cole said, desperate to buy some time. Come on, Danny. You got this.

From the woods, a single shot rang out. They both heard the bullet sing through the crisp air. It might have passed right between them.

Neither man so much as flinched.

Hauer turned his back to the forest, as if dismissing the threat there. “Do you see what I mean? I could stand out here all day without fear of being shot. Like I said, your grandson ist ein Weichei.”

Cole ignored the insult. One bullet left, Danny, Cole was thinking. Breathe, aim, squeeze that trigger. Just like I taught you. Take your time—well, maybe not too much time.

“Get it over with,” Cole said, his voice raised, hoping that his grandson could hear him. It was a message for Danny more than Hauer.

“You should have killed me during the war,” Hauer said. “After I shoot you, I will track down the boy and take care of him as well.”

Hauer raised the rifle again. This time, he put it to his shoulder and aimed carefully at Cole.

“Where would you like me to shoot you?” Hauer asked. “Through the heart? Through the head?”

“Just get it over with.”

Another shot came from the forest.

There was no snap of a bullet going past. Instead, there was the solid whunk of a hollow-point bullet hitting flesh and bone.

Hauer reacted as if someone had just slapped him hard between the shoulder blades. Intended to bring down big game like wild boar and stags by shredding lungs and internal organs, the mushrooming slug was equally effective on human targets.

Hauer stumbled forward a couple of steps, a look of disbelief in his eyes. The rifle drooped in his hands. Slowly, he sank to his knees. Then he slumped over sideways.

But he wasn’t dead yet. Hauer’s hands still grasped the rifle. He struggled to find the strength to point it at Cole.

Cole walked over and took hold of the rifle, wresting it from Hauer’s hands. His right side hurt like fire and his shoulder felt stiff, but not much effort was involved as he aimed the muzzle down at Hauer.

“Hauer, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Why the hell did you shoot that nun all those years ago? Hell, she was just trying to help one of your own men.”

“I never liked nuns. Isn’t that reason enough?”

“No.”

“Look at the two of us, all shot to pieces,” Hauer said softly. It was an effort for him to speak. A bubble of pink froth appeared at the corner of his lips. “For us, the war is finally over.”

“I reckon,” Cole said. “I’ve got to say, this has been a long time coming.”

Then he pulled the trigger.

Chapter Twenty-Five

In the aftermath of the final gunshot, a stillness settled over the valley, the forest, and the surrounding mountains. It was a peaceful quiet for a change, rather than a menacing silence. Cole breathed in the crisp morning air, saying a silent prayer of thanks that he and Danny were still alive.

Hauer had been a goner, lung shot by Danny’s bullet, but Cole made sure that he was the one who finished him off. When the authorities asked, he could say with a straight face that he had been the one who killed Hauer.

He turned his attention to the edge of the forest, where Danny was emerging, rifle at his side. Cole stood, smiling, waiting for him.

“Good shooting,” Cole said.

Danny looked shaken. “I shot him,” he said. “I just killed a man.”

“You did what you had to do. It was self-defense—him or us,” Cole said. He reached for the rifle and took it in his good left hand. “Listen up now. We both know you did the right thing. I’m the one who did all the shooting, if anyone asks.”

A thought seemed to occur to Danny. “You mean the police?”

“I reckon someone might wonder how Hauer ended up dead. Considering that he’s shot in the back and all, they ain’t going to buy that it was suicide.”

Danny looked down at the body. Hauer had been an imposing man in life, but in death he seemed to have shrunken.

“He tried to kill us,” Danny stated, as if still trying to convince himself.

“He surely tried, but that didn’t work out so well for him, now did it?” Cole took Danny by the elbow, steering him away from the body. “I’m proud of you, Danny. I know it’s not easy, but you can hold your head high. You did the right thing.”

Danny nodded.

“C’mon, now that Hauer’s not here to stop us anymore, let’s go see if we can find that trail out of this valley. I could use some coffee.”

The thought of food seemed to snap Danny out of his trance. “And pancakes,” Danny said.

“Hmm. Bacon, too.”

“And some orange juice! My stomach is rumbling now, Pa Cole.”

“All right then, let’s get out of here.”

Together, they started toward the western neck of the valley.

They were not alone for long.

The stillness of the morning air was interrupted by the steady thup, thup, thup of an approaching helicopter. Soon enough, the aircraft came into sight, flying low.

"You think they’re looking for us?” Danny asked.

“Only one way to find out. Give ‘em a wave.”

Danny did just that, using a big howdy motion that they called a hillbilly wave back