Free Swan Song (Book Three of the Icarus Trilogy) by Kevin Kauffmann Page B

return to his spot, to move half a meter in any direction.
    “Teucer, what the fuck are you doing?!” the voice whispered with urgency. 
    Norris decided he didn’t have a choice; collateral damage happened in war.  The Englishman pulled the trigger and time seemed to slow down.  He felt the kick of his rifle and heard the muffled compression of air as the bullet streaked out of his weapon.  But neither of those things mattered; Norris was only concerned with the scene playing out in the scope of his rifle.  He watched as the doorman’s shoulder separated from his body and cursed when he couldn’t see the businessman behind him. 
    The sniper was already grabbing another shell from his arm bandolier before he saw the doorman fall to the side and could see the grisly blood splatter behind him.  The businessman’s head was lying on his shoulder, most of the neck had been blown away and only a small part of the tissue still connected the man’s head to his body.  Norris unintentionally gulped in a mouthful of air at the sight, but soon recovered himself.  He placed the shell back into the bandolier and then went to work disassembling his weapon.
    “Jesus, Teucer.  You think you coulda been easier on him?” the voice asked over the radio, the shock causing the resistance agent to soften her tone.  Norris unscrewed the scope and was setting it in the black case as he touched his ear.
    “Is he dead?” Norris asked in annoyance.
    “Well, yeah,” the voice said, trailing off in her confusion.
    “That’s all that fucking matters, Cass,” Norris said under his breath as he placed the stock into the case.  The Englishman had gotten quite proficient at pulling the weapon apart; he was on top of four or five rooftops every week.  Edward unclipped the bandolier on his arm and set it beside the stock and looked at the whole kit.  He brushed his hand against the smooth plastic and metal of the barrel before closing the case, disguised as a young girl’s carry-on luggage, and then walked towards the roof access.
    “Yeah, but you could ease up on the brutality,” Cassandra said in a defeated manner.  She had been Norris’ spotter for the last two weeks, but she was still pretty new to Edward's behavior.  His light tone outside of the missions was confusing to her; she was used to the morbid attitude of most of her teammates from the Mastodons.
    “Cass, you know what happens to people when you shoot them with a sniper rifle?” Norris asked as he opened the door lazily and started to walk down the stairs.  He was in no hurry; the response time of the EOSF in circumstances like these was absolutely abysmal.  They weren’t prepared for the EFI’s habit of destroying the support structure of the Trade Union; it was difficult to anticipate.
    “They die,” Cassandra said in annoyance.  She figured it would just be best for Norris to get it over with quickly.
    “True enough,” Norris said before laughing and adopting a crooked smile.  “But something happens before that.”
    “And what’s that?” Cassandra asked, obviously getting distracted by something else on her end.
    “Well, they feel a metric shit-ton of pain for a fraction of a second, no matter where they get hit, Cass,” the Englishman said, the smile disappearing for just a moment.  “As long as I kill them fast, I don’t much care about where I hit them.  Our little target was lucky I took out the spine.”
    “Well, what about the doorman?” Cass asked, taking a breath in the middle of the question.  The spotter was moving out of her position, it seemed.  Norris heard the question and stopped in the stairwell.  He let the silence fill the concrete structure and after a second he could hear his own heart beating.  Norris pursed his lips before he continued to walk down the stairwell.
    “I didn’t want to shoot him, Cass.  I just had to.  Besides,” Norris said as he jumped down two steps to hit the landing with a thump for