Hello, Mr. Major General (1)

Chapter 105 - Shifting The Blame

Sidharth listened to the report, and responded with a curt “Copy that.”

They were going ahead with their original plan.

They had been in the city for two weeks now. It was time to act.

Deepak remained in the hotel; he was the operator for the mission, and it was his job to support his other
teammates.

He heard Sidharth give the go ahead, and immediately issued instructions to the three squads via the GSAT-7 Global Satellite Navigation System.

“Everyone get in position. We strike in five minutes.”

Five minutes was the bare minimum necessary for snipers to get a lock on their target.

This was not a normal mission, and they had prepared for it accordingly: they had scouted out the area and prepped their sniping positions beforehand. Once they were in position, they would be able to lock on to their target within five minutes.

“Copy that. Not a problem.” The three squads answered in the affirmative.

Deepak relayed their message to Sidharth.

Sidharth did not say anything. He bent over, grabbed a fistful of bread crumbs, and tossed them upwards, into the sky.

The pigeons in the square immediately took off, their wings flapping loudly.

The sky was full of the cooing and fluttering of pigeons.

Against the white clouds and the azure sky, pigeons of all colors flew about, as beautiful and graceful as white swans.

Mike was sitting at the other end of the square. As the pigeons continued to coo and flutter, a small red dot appeared on his forehead.

Mike was extremely vigilant, and could sense when something was wrong.

Without warning, his heart began to race, and the hair on the back of his neck prickled.

He looked about the square, and spotted a tall, bearded man sitting on the bench opposite him.

The bearded man appeared to be watching him.

When the bearded man saw Mike look his way, he tossed another fistful of pigeon feed into the air.

The sky was immediately blotted out by pigeons. They were big, strong birds, and they swooped towards the man in a flurry of feathers.

Mike saw the pigeons descend on the man across him, and laughed.

As he laughed, the vague sense of unease in his heart disappeared.

At that very moment, a sniper rifle, some 500-meters away, fired an olive-shaped bullet. It struck Mike in the forehead.

Mike silently fell backwards onto the bench.

From where Sidharth stood, Mike looked like he was watching the white pigeons, up in the sky…

“Target C eliminated. Over.”

Sidharth nodded. He got up and left the square.

There were only a few other people in the square. Sidharth had a feeling it would probably be some time before they realized that the man on the bench was dead.

Over at the home-style hotel near St. Vitus Cathedral, on the second floor, Huttu was sitting in Room 319, cleaning his gun. Suddenly, a bullet from an anti-materiel sniper rifle burst through the walls and struck him in the heart from behind.

A pink spray of blood appeared on the wall opposite Huttu.

The gold wallpaper was immediately mottled with red.