October's Ghost

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The Cuban sharpshooter, aiming from a rise above the clearing, trained the crosshairs first on the green shoulder boards that adorned his target. These he could not identify by color in the low moonlight, but to see them at all was sufficient. It was less a confirmation than a final, purposeful act of disrespect for the entity that the unit insignia represented. A smile formed as he brought his aim point up, centering on the back of the head. He said a silent curse and increased pressure on the trigger. Quite fittingly, the KGB would be the first to die.

Ten Mosin-Nagant rifles, accurized for use as sniper weapons, fired within a split second of each other from the jungle on the east side of the bulldozed oval of earth. There were only seven “primary” targets, and all were hit at least once. One KGB guard, a junior officer, survived the first volley, as his intended killer’s shot was low, striking him in the shoulder blade, but a quick follow-up shot felled him before he could lift the Kalashnikov and fire.

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