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Back Game of Snipers Save as PDF
Chapters (74)
  1. Cover
  2. TITLES BY STEPHEN HUNTER
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. PART 1
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. PART 2
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. PART 3
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. PART 4
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. 58
  67. 59
  68. 60
  69. PART 5
  70. 61
  71. 62
  72. Acknowledgments
  73. About the Author
  74. What’s next onyour reading list?

It didn’t take strong-arm stuff to control the building. Merely a brief opening of robes to display each fellow’s AK-74 Krink, the lighter-caliber, short-barreled version of the world’s most famous and prolific firearm. That made the point, and without sound or fuss the authentic clerics followed their captors’ instructions, gathered in the nave of the cathedral, where they were made to kneel, were flex-cuffed and ball-gagged.

The sergeant in charge spoke quickly in Spanish, then English.

“We mean you no harm. We are true believers ourselves, and ask the Lord Jesus Christ to bless our endeavor, for its outcome favors la raza over the usurpers and represents the reconquest. You will remain silent for another few minutes, and, presto, we are gone, and someone from the police will arrive to free you. Do not look carefully at our faces or attempt to commit details to memory. It could haunt you at some future time.”

That said, the perimeter established, a sign placed in front of the entrance reading NO ENTRANCE/NO ENTRADA, he spoke into the microphone held before his lips, giving the signal.

Another black SUV pulled up, and out of it climbed Unit 2, three more men in priest’s robes, a fellow said to be an expert on the workings of glass, a stout and dedicated load bearer, with a gun case wrapped in a bright Navajo textile and a tripod simply wrapped in brown paper, and Juba the Sniper.

“This way,” said the husky man. He was Special Forces as well, had reconned the site personally, and knew exactly where he was going. He led them into the structure.

The church held no magic for Juba. His mind was fixated on purpose. No sense of grand importance came to his mind, no urgency, no care, no anxiety. All that mattered was the shot; in the moment, faith would be a distraction. He didn’t notice the vaulted grace about him, the shafts of holy sunlight, the dust floating in the air. He didn’t observe the designed serenity of the place, made no comparisons between the busy beauty of Christian religious ambience and the severity and simplicity of his own faith.