Chapter 10: The Final Directive
The radio clipped to the commander’s tactical vest suddenly crackled to life, breaking the fragile quiet of the balcony. The voice of the rear-guard lieutenant cut through the static with urgent news: intercepted enemy communications confirmed that the opposing forces were preparing a coordinated, final assault using their remaining artillery assets, targeting the entire ridge line in an effort to erase the strategic outpost once and for all. The window for a safe extraction was closing rapidly. If they did not move within the next ten minutes, the entire area would be flattened by high-explosive saturation fire.
The commander’s expression hardened back into the mask of unyielding resolve. He clipped the radio back to his vest and looked directly at the sniper. "The extraction chopper is inbound to the lower clearing, but we have to move now," he commanded, his voice firm and authoritative. "We leave the heavy gear, grab only sidearms and essentials, and run the gauntlet through the ravine. It’s our only way out before the artillery strike hits." He turned toward the stairwell, expecting her to follow immediately without hesitation.
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Instead, the sniper remained standing near the stone parapet, her eyes fixed on the wrapped sniper rifle resting against the wall. She picked it up with both hands, feeling its reassuring weight, and slung it securely across her back. "You take the extraction team and secure the clearing," she said, her tone absolute and unyielding. "I need to stay behind for two more minutes. The enemy spotter is operating from the church steeple across the valley. If he paints our coordinates for the artillery, the chopper won't make it off the ground."
The commander stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to face her with a look of fierce disagreement. "I am not leaving you here alone to face an artillery barrage!" he protested, stepping back onto the balcony. "That's a suicide mission, and you know it." She shook her head slowly, her dark ponytail swaying slightly with the motion. "It’s not a suicide mission if I make the shot and run immediately after," she countered calmly, her voice carrying a quiet authority that brooked no further argument. "Go. I’ll meet you at the extraction point. Trust me."
