The sun was high when the Ranger parked the Fordasaurus, a monstrosity of a Ford F650 that was equipped to be run as a tactical staging area. While no longer his go to vehicle, it was the only one he could fit his rifle cases into. Today was a range day for him. While he had the capacity had his office to fire and train CQC, he still had to drive out of the city to shoot at an outdoor range when it was time to break out precision rifles.

A clear sky and minimal wind meant today shouldn’t have many curve balls. Easier to just drill the basics; breathing, trigger control, and compensation for minimal factors. Spin drift, air pressure, temperature, and humidity. Just easy windage and drop.

After pulling his Pelican cases out of the back of the Fordasaurus he went up to the building where the range was managed from. He paid the fee to shoot on the long range bay and made his way there.

There was a line of concrete benches with chairs set up under a cover. How spoiled he was to shooting without being in the Sun now. There were a couple other people in the bay shooting. He walked behind them to one of the benches. While he would be shooting prone between the benches, they proved nice to lay his cases open.

Down range there were many steel targets set up. No less than one target every 100 yards out to 1500 yards. Inside of 750 yards there was at least one every 50 yards. Some were targets that swung around, some were targets that you knocked over but would set themselves back up, and some were essentially gongs.There were range employees whos job it was to run out and spray paint the targets periodically when the range was cold. They also set up paper on the few stands for paper targets.

The first rifle out of the case was a Remington 700 Police in .300 Win Mag. While the weapon system is amazingly precise out of the box, this one had additional bedding compound and the Ranger had lapped in an oversized bolt for a perfect lockup. He’d mounted a Nightforce 5-25x54mm scope on it. It was a 1500 yard rifle, he needed to at least be able to see the targets out that far and Nightforce glass was up there with Schmidt and Bender and Swarovski in terms of clarity while being tough enough to hammer nails with it.

He popped down the legs of the bipod and set the rifle on the ground. Next he brought out his spotting scope. At over 50 magnification he would be able to better evaluate his longer distance shots.

And finally he pulled out his match grade ammunition and set it by the rifle. Time to shoot.

It had been a while since Hades had been to the range, well a range that was not CQC. As parked his black Toyota Hilux in the parking lot he glanced over at the black and white For monstrosity that was in the lot next to him. It looked a tad out of place. Off hand Hades guessed by the color scheme and the chrome, Texan, most probably Texan, It seemed to fit. Today he had in mind two of his rifles he wanted to play around with.

He shouldered his cases, paid the fee and went in. First to check zero and start off the short ranges. It would be later in the day before he pulled out his second rifle. His first one was a Remington 700 bolt action. He had replaced the barrel with stainless steel and finished it with Teflon. Then the Barrel and action screws had been bedded in Devcon Aluminium into a fiberglass and Kevlar stock. The screws torqued to 60 pounds. It was like an old friend to him. He broke out a box of .308s and stared down the Leupold 10x scope.

Hades got into one of the classic bench shooting positions. Boots flat on the apron, rifle against shoulder, other arm flat along the bench under the rifle sunk into the sandbags. He fired four shots. All landed in the same hole and practically point blank range. Satisfied he was zeroed, he moved on. He shot systematically moving up 100 yard every twenty shots, 100 to 300. He found his position and held it. Find your spot weld, lock it in, half breath in for 3 heartbeats and gently caress the trigger.

After he had finished he went to examine his accuracy. At 100 yards clover leafs, but they got rarer the further out he got. At 300 yards, his best was an illusion of a circle within 1.386 inches or so. He snorted to himself. He still had not lost it. He kept shooting as the day wore on. Finally he felt ready.

He pulled out his second rifle. This was had history, it was from an old friend, it was something... different. A black walnut affair emerged from the case. It was an old, old bolt-action model 70 with a fat bull barrel and a Unertl 36X scope running almost the entire length of the barrel. For ammo, in honorof his friend he would break out .300 H&H Magnum loaded with a Sierra 200 grain slug. He settled himself down at 1400 yard range. Pushing the limits of what he could achieve. His friend had been a sniping legend in his day and had challenged Hades to push himself far beyond the bounds of what he thought he could achieve. He had left this rifle to Hades. He had bet that Hades could make a 1400 yard shot. Today he would try, he had spent most of the day working up to this.

At this range there was no talk of grouping, you were just trying to hit the target. Hades braced the rifle on sandbags fore and aft. He breathed softly, half lung in half lung out. *Bang*. He had went wide, he had broken early. Undaunted he tried again. Cleared his mind. He ran the ballistics once again in his head. *Bang* closer but still no shot. One last try. *Bang*. Hades ran through the check list. Yes the scope was exactly where he wanted it, yes the trigger pull was smooth and unhurried, yes he his position was solid with no last second twitch, no flicker of doubt or lack of belief had robbed him of his shot. He went to check with the spotting scope. There on target well within the 4 inch circle of that piece of paper one thousand four hundred yards out was a clear crisp hole. Dam his friend, he was right after all.

Hades sat back and relaxed his body. It ached after more than half a day of being contorted into the uncomfortable positions usually required of bench shooting but there was a satisfied air to him. He still did not quite believe he had made that shot. It was enough. He mentally saluted his friend. He was ready for a drink. Hades had almost finished putting his rifle away and was waiting for the employees to bring him the target papers when he heard footsteps approaching and he heard a voice that sounded eerily familiar. He had heard it somewhere, but where?

He’d confirmed zero at 100 yards and worked his consistent one pound four ounces trigger. He set all his precision guns to the same weight to maintain constancy. He didn’t want to pick one up and in a pinch work with the wrong weight. He had cleaned this particular rifle that morning so his first shot was outside of the one-third MoA five shot grouping.

From there he moved out to 300 yards then 600. Finally he started pounding away at the steel target at 1000 yards. He then let the gun cool off before sighting it at 1200 yards. While the gun could reach out to 1500 yards he had other guns for that distance. He maintained his one-third MoA grouping, though it took him longer between the shots. He never dialed his scope, he held his scope and up to account for the windage and drop. The wind calls alone at 1200 took time to work out. He tried to use the mirage and plants to make his wind calls instead of the flags. There likely wouldn't be flags if he ever needed to make a shot.

Satisfied with his shooting on the .300 Win Mag he set it back in its case and pulled out his truly long range rig. A custom Remington 700. Built off a blueprinted action it had a 26” Krieger barrel with an AWC Thundertrap suppressor on the end. It had an oversized bolt handle and sat in an Accuracy International AX chassis. It was topped off by a Harris bipod and Schmidt and Bender 12-50x56 scope. A, if you can see it you can hit it, rifle. He’d received a few unhappy looks when he pulled out the rifle, but most of them calmed down after the Ranger affixed the suppressor to the end of the barrel. A .338 Lapua Magnum is a monster. The sound and concussion of the weapon is incredible. No one likes to shoot near them. A suppressor makes it hearing safe behind the gun. All the concussion goes forward.

Confirm zero at 200 yards and then straight to 1000. This rifle was built to run sub one-fifth MoA. At 1000 yards his group was tighter than a two inch diameter. While the rifle could run that level of precision, it was still an incredible amount of work for the Ranger to hold it. Shooting prone made it easier, but shooting without bags made it more difficult.

From 1000 he walked the gun out to 1400 yards in 100 yard increments pounding steel targets. He had his logbook out and his ballistic calculator pulled up on his phone for help with his holds.

While he was shooting he could hear someone else still shooting near him. They were firing at a measured cadence like they were firing at a very distant target. Curious the Ranger looked around with his spotting scope until he saw the shots impacting a 1400 yard paper target. He wagered it was a four inch group. Between one-third and one-fourth MoA. Very impressive.

The Ranger looked over and saw a man with a wood stock model 70. He was firing that level of precision out of a wood stock, that is absolutely incredible. While super nice to shoot and them looking great, wood stocks aren’t known for their precision.

Not to be outdone by the Chris Kyle down the line, the Ranger sighted in on the gong at 1500 yards. While he was certain he could group at 1500 yards, grouping on target at that distance was the challenge.

Check the book, he’d made a similar shot under similar conditions before. He checked the hold he recorded. Slight difference in wind. Minor adjustment, less than a mil. Press the trigger during the respiratory pause and wait. And wait. And… There it was the sound of a distant gong. He had needed the sound to confirm the hit. It was too far for his scope to give him a good view of it swinging. If he was using is spotting scope he could have.

Three and a half MoA on a wood stock. No way it could be factory. That level of precision out of that rifle intrigued the Ranger, he needed to see the rig. Getting up off the ground, the Ranger patted some of the dirt off himself before heading over to the man.

”Howdy, friend.” The Ranger called as he approached. ”Nice shootin’. Better than one-third MoA on a wood stock, tha’s just impressive.”.

>”Howdy, friend. Nice shootin’. Better than one-third MoA on a wood stock, tha’s just impressive.”

Hades nodded at the compliment. He raised his eyes from the scope, observing the speaker. Texan no doubt from the accent. Estimated height 5'10, toned. Posture, handling of weapon and choice of weapon suggests military. But it was the silhouette. There was something familiar about that silhouette, It was nagging him. Well there was one way to find out.

Hades held out the rifle. It was most definitely not factory. It was a work of art. It was a pre-'64 model. As it caught the light the dark gleam blazed in a high sheen that was practically a lost art. The wood was a dense, from that of an ancient walnut tree, the kind that is not found many places, nor was it ever. If one paid close attention, one would notice the serial number: 100000. It was a hand made variant. It did not fire, it thundered, it roared. It was .. beautiful.

"Hades, pleased to meet you. Go for it."

He said by way of greeting and answer to the question in the Texan's eyes. He gestured to the box of ammo. Long .300 H&Hs, Four inches of shell, powder and bullet. The man was practically itching to get a good look at his rifle. Hades had seen him shoot earlier. He was no amateur, and more importantly he took care of his rifles, so Hades figured why not. Plus Hades had an ulterior motive

There were many things that stuck in Hades memory, may thing s that were unique about an individual. Each shooter has his or her own distinct prone shooting position. Hades felt certain that if he saw the mans shooting position, that and his voice would jog his memory.

The kind of man who noticed the little details and took care of his guns, one who did not just come for bragging rights, but loved the art, the challenge, that was someone that Hades would not mind hanging out for a while with. To that end, he added.

"You beat my score, I'll pick up your tab for the day."

Tab meant drinks, regardless of how he scored, Hades would happily share a drink. Hence the generous offer, and an added incentive. Hades sat back and watched. He had a feeling that this was going to be good.

The man looked up from his scope when the Ranger spoke to him. There was a moment where he could tell the man was sizing him up, like any man with combat experience would. Casual to the point it was almost unnoticeable. The Ranger was well acquainted with the look.

Hades. The man introduced himself with the name of the Greek god of the underworld. It was bound to happen eventually, he’d met someone with virtually every other possible name in this city. What was even more interesting though was that Hades was offering to let the Ranger shoot his rifle.

Taking the Rifle Hades was offering him, the Ranger looked it over. It was a work of art. Where the Ranger’s rifles were all custom built with everything factoring into performance, this rifle blended performance with aesthetics in a classic way.

”Michael.” The Ranger replied as he looked over the rifle. Hades offering saved Ranger the necessity of asking to shoot it. He set the rifle on the ground and grabbed the box of ammo. ”Thanks.”

He slid out a cartridge and looked at it before setting the box next to the rifle and pulling out his phone to use a ballistic calculator.

Hades offered to cover the Ranger’s tab if he could beat his score.”Give me two shots t’ get on paper an’ y’re on.” He lay prone at the weapon.

While he could ask Hades for the ballistic coefficient, drag, and muzzle velocity, Ranger could also just put two shots down range and find the hold. He’d fired a few .300 H&Hs before. They were by no means precision instruments, but they held their own despite being a nearly 100 year old cartridge.

First he pulled the bolt and sighted down the bore. He needed an idea where the scope was set. Then returning the bolt he worked the trigger. He cycled the bolt and squeezed the trigger several times so he had a feel for it. Finally he loaded the weapon and chambered a round.

Air, breath, squeeze in the respiratory pause. The rifle roared and moments later the Ranger saw splash from a miss.

He entered the data from his last shot into his phone. The wind calls, the direction, the temperature, all other knowns including where the shot hit relative to point of aim. Then he worked the action before sighting in and a few moments later firing again. While he hit the target it wasn’t where he wanted. Again he entered the data.

Now with a few points of data he could make a rough guess on the ballistics.

The Ranger chambered a round. Went through the process of shooting a 1400 yard shot. Worked the action, his eye never leaving the scope, and fired again. Finally, he fired a third time. He left a three shot group on the target. He stood up and handed the rifle to Hades to check.

While he was never a sniper the Ranger had spent time the last few years drilling down on precision shooting.

Hades waited for the scores to come back.

He nodded. "That was dam fine shooting. first two in a 4 inch grouping the last one within the one inch circle. Good shooting." For a man of relatively few words, and rare praise, that was fine praise indeed.

"I am out of practice." It was not an excuse it was a statement of fact. People in Hades and, he suspected, Ranger's profession did not stay alive very long by having any illusions about their abilities, you stayed alive by knowing what you could and could not do, your limitations and so forth.

Hades cleaned the guns before putting them away with care, a snipers rifle is an extension of himself.

He stood and turned to look at the winner, "There is a pub round the corner, meet you there. Unless you want to do more shooting."

It was an imitation British pub, the lighting dim, the wood paneling dark, it was quiet. Tall backed booths offered privacy, it projected a sense of cozy comfort. The type of place where a man could share his life story. Hades, as promised, opened a tab and informed the bartender that all drinks for the two were on him.

He sat back and savored the dark brew. That was one thing he liked about this bar/pub, it stocked an impressive array of imports. He was currently enjoying a Hobgoblin from Wychwood breweries, from Oxford on Water, right outside Oxford, England, and it was good. Silence reigned between them at first, an easy silence. It was becoming increasingly apparent that they were both operators. The easy confidence, the automatic scanning of the surroundings, noting exits and maintaining situational awareness, the confidence, the easy silence.

Hades broke the silence first. "Each man has a unique prone sniping position." This was true regardless of using an assault rifle or a sniper rifle. "I recon the last time I saw that one was 2015, February, Russia. It was one crazy mission." Hades paused and drew a symbol on the condensation of the table. It was the symbol used to mark caches for that particular mission. Hades cast his mind back.

The premise of the mission was simple. The Russians were developing a bio weapon one that they should not, and was able to circumvent many of the protections currently available to the US military. The facility was labeled as a "training camp". The goal was to go in, destroy the laboratory within the camp, collect intel where possible, kill all and vanish. Thus giving the US military time to develop countermeasures and put Russia in a position where it could not do anything but twiddle its thumbs. The catch was that complete deniability was required for this mission. There would be one chopper in and one out, no support in between. If they were discovered The United States would disavow all knowledge and brand them as rogue elements, zero support. So all clothing and weapons had to be obtainable locally-ish.

Hades was dropped in a full week in advance. He had been pulled into the outfit by an Israeli code named  Scimitar. He dropped in with a full gear pack and enough weapons to boot. Three sniper rifles, one of them an OSV-96, a bow and arrows, silenced sub-machine gun, pistol and knives, Oh and supplies to last for the mission. It was good he was dropped early. It allowed him time to prepare. Preparing for a mission is not like they show in the movies. Preparation is key.

First survey the compound, and verify that, yes at least half the Intel they were provided was out of date. The security had been stepped up. plot paths for different point of the engagement, remove rocks and debris to create smooth running paths. For a sniper, the longer the shot the more cal he needs to be but for this mission Hades would have to hustle between sniping positions, luckily the range was not far. Next hide weapons at appropriate locations. The OSV-96 would come in handy to cover the exfil. Hades would be ex-filtrating on his own.

Preparations complete he setup a cache with the agreed upon symbol and settled down to wait for the teams arrival.

It turned out it was a good thing he brought a bow, there was a reason why he earned a second nickname on that mission, "The Archer".....

Both of the groupings were impressive considering the distance and caliber they were using. They spoke volumes equally to the skill of the shooters and the craftsmanship of the rifle. Hades had the tighter grouping, but the Ranger had hit closest to the bullseye. Hades shots were more impressive from a precision standpoint, but Ranger had been more accurate. And in a game of points accuracy is what you need if you can only have one.

Hades commended Ranger’s shooting before stating that he was out of practice. ”Y’r mechanics were perfect. Cain’t argue with that groupin’. Either y’r hold or y’r dope was what got y’.” He wasn’t trying to say Hades was wrong, only help point out what needed work. The easy part inside of 1000 yards, but the hard part past it.

Hades set to cleaning his guns. Ranger took that time to run a few patches with oil down his barrels. You never want a clean bore when you start shooting, you have to deal with fouling shots as the copper is stripped to fill in the microscopic imperfections in the barrel. A precision rifle barrel isn’t considered clean until the copper has been stripped which should only be done when the grouping opens up. That said, cleaning out spent powder does not make a bore clean. It makes it less dirty and not going to rust.

Their rifles tended to, Hades invited Ranger to a pub around the corner. Beer joints were more the Ranger’s speed, but in a pinch a pub would do.”Let me toss my rifles back in the truck an’ I’ll meet y’ there.”

A quick trip to his urban assault vehicle and the Ranger headed to the pub Hades had mentioned. He wasn’t about to leave any of his rifles lying around. They were far too valuable to risk that, not that he expected anyone to try and steal them. He was worried someone would have to handle them and he’d come back to a rifle with loose bolts in the stock and his scope bottomed out with the windage set all the way left.

When the Ranger slid into the booth with Hades he had a beer he had picked up on his way past the bar. It was a dark beer the bartender had recommended. None of his go tos were on the menu. He took a sip, it wasn’t bad.

As the pair sat there drinking, the Ranger casually tracked where people were moving through the pub. Had he left his line of work he would have likely turned off that part of his mind. It was a tiring to always operate like anyone was about to jump out and attack you. It was also life saving in the short term if it was disastrous to your long term life expectancy.

Hades spoke first and the Ranger looked over to him. He was talking about people shooting prone. And the last time he’d seen how the ranger shot prone was in 2015. In Russia. Ranger quirked an eyebrow. Hades drew a symbol on the table.

Hades had been there?

The Ranger had been part of the entry unit. A collection of contractors who were known to act for many nations. This allowed deniability to the US who would disavow everything in the event one of them was captured or killed.

Supplies were being provided on sight, the team was to locate the caches to gear up. This allowed them to enter the country under false pretenses. No jumps or helo rides. Just vanilla transport, lies, and a lot of luck.

The selection of guns were all over the place. Some Russian, some NATO. The one thing the Ranger had insisted on was a tomahawk. It was the king of CQC and all around usefulness. Once geared up they were to move at night. One team would move to eliminate communications line, the other would assault the compound.

Once everyone was in position they broke squelch once to let their overwatch know they were moving. Ranger’s job was to eliminate the guards at the towers ahead of them. He alone could operate in the dark without any type of electronic device attached to his head. This made scaling the towers easier. He would reach the top, quietly eliminate the guard and then move to the next.

Once the guards were eliminated the fence was cut and they were through. They had fifteen minutes until the next patrol passed the section they cut through.

A radio squelch, the signal that it was a go, they were committed now. Hades took up his post with the but of his SV-98 cradled against his shoulder in a classic prone snipers pose. As per the briefing they would keep radio chatter to a minimum. Yes they were using encrypted channels, and yes their radios hopped frequencies how ever many times a second but it was still the norm to keep chatter to ma minimum. They would use the prearranged signals. Hades was on point as lookout during this phase. One longer squelch meant take cover, two quick ones meant resume. Tonight was a good night to snipe, there was a full moon out and little wind.

Hades watched as Talon one scaled the tower and smoothly and efficiently silenced the guard at the first tower, then the second. As he was halfway to the third when Hades spotted movement, a guard, perhaps a captain was coming to check on his men. He sent a long squelch and was gratified to see Talon one swiftly take cover in the shadows. He was also thankful that Talon one took care to hide the bodies as well.

He lined up his shot, this was an easy one, his target was walking at a steady pace, with no obstructions, on a well lit windless night. Hades mentally ran through the calculations in his head,breathed in, let out half a breath and fired between heartbeats. Way over on the battlements a small cloud of red mist suddenly appeared the other side of the captain, and he toppled over. Two quick squelches. The rest went smoothly, the teams regrouping once the com lines were cut. They had just cut the fence when Hades spotted something on the horizon. As much as he hated to break radio silence the team leader should know.

"Overwatch to Talon, Victor Alfa Delta 10 Qubec 4 Charlie Lima" break "Romeo Oscar"

Translated it simply said vehicles approaching, ETA 10 mikes, quantity 4 and of light vehicle class i.e. Humvee or equivalent, followed by a query for orders. Hades had placed his anti material sniper at hide number two to cover their ex-filtration. The response came back "Papa Alfa Uniform" proceed as usual. They would have to up the timetable as they now had less time before chances increased exponentially of being discovered.

They soon made it to the central building. Talon leader gave a signal and it was time for Hades to move to position Bravo. Hades abandoned his SV-98, it was far too large and loud for the next stage, and zipplined down towards the main building.

The laboratory was situated within what appeared to be an old Russian bathhouse or something of the like, classic architecture with a huge tall domed ceiling, below which contained an absolute maze of partitions, corridors, clean rooms and the usual assortment of ad hoc rooms and facilities one needs for a bio lab. The extremely tall ceiling was perfect for Hades to play "sniper in the roof". He arrived just after the team and
pulled out a compact little VSS, aka Vintorez. With its suppressor, heavy subsonic ammunition, compact size and light weight, it was perfect for what was required. Whats more, as Hades discovered to his delight, it was a dam good little mini sniper rifle. The recoil was minimal, it was quiet, light and shot true. He set about working with the team quickly and efficiently.

The mission had seemed to be going as planned. Guards were eliminated, their overwatch was on his A game with regards to keeping watch and eliminating targets with efficiency. Ranger would have preferred he not have to shoot. Suppressors don’t silence weapons, if someone had happened to step out for a smoke break they might have been had. Calculated risk, the team was in position to neutralize the smoker in that instance.

When the team was ready to proceed, overwatch came over the radio. A break in procedure for the mission, but necessary. They’d just lost five minutes. Mission was still doable as it was. They’d planned it to run in fifteen allowing for them to act as necessary to enter and exit without having to engage in a firefight. Going to ten they could still make it, but might have to shoot.

"Papa Alfa Uniform" Ranger said before motioning for the team to advance.

When they arrived at the target building Ranger signaled overwatch. They didn’t have time to wait so they went in while overwatch was repositioning.

High ceilings, and soft barriers would give overwatch excellent sight-lines and the ability to punch through the walls if necessary. It also meant if they shot they would be made. Even if suppressors silenced the guns the guns’ actions would give them away. They would need to clear and engage with CQC weapons if possible. Ranger held his rifle, he could transition to his tomahawk fast enough, but he wanted the rifle in case an enemy engaged down a hall.

The team moved. Ranger took point. It helped to have someone who could flip a truck in front. He set off down a hallway made out of the partitions. When they came up to doors they would clear the rooms.Ranger caught the door and followed the number two man in. Open doors he lead.

Three clear rooms before they found one with someone inside. Ranger’s hand blurred as he drew and threw his tomahawk. The man didn’t have a chance to scream.

The mission was going smoothly, textbook almost, a little too smoothly perhaps. The ground team had just entered a corridor that lead to the underground bunker/vault that held the bio weapon itself and presumably the software backups. Once they were inside the bunker, Hades would act as lookout. 

The area was suddenly bathed in an internationally recognized dull read light and an equally familiar noise started faintly blaring from within the corridor into the team had recently entered. It was mostly muted by the corridor and presumably the vault.

Hades thoughts could be summed up in one word: Shit!

Hades sent a sequence of clicks over the radio channel, the prearranged signal for enemies alerted, considering the circumstances it was hardly necessary, but protocols.... 

The base that was so quiet just moments before was waking up with alarming alacrity. As this was a bio weapons lab, the response troops were wearing full masks. The alacrity only increased as the first dead bodies were discovered. The size of the facility meant that the response troops were relatively spread out but that would not last.  

With the interior of the building lit up with warning lights, the rafters were not a good hiding place for a sniper. Hades was clambering down an access ladder mentally taking stock. Quick response troops already deployed, the approaching convoy would probably accelerate to join up and he had a sinking feeling that the convoy was there to take delivery, meaning heavies. He was not kitted for a straight up shooting match. His armor was light so not to impede movement. He had a silenced pistol, his diamond cross section throwing knives and his little VSS, hardly enough. First thing was to determine the status of the team and the status of the mission, then do what ever needed to be done.

He had just alighted on the ground floor when a blinding light settled on his face and *Bang*. Then cool darkness as his body crumpled to the floor, a neat round 9mm hole adorning the side of his helmet.

Hades awoke with a start. Ne never knew how long it would take between him "dying" and him "reforming". Time tended to be a fickle thing when your body was recovering in an alternate dimension. The ambient temperature dropped slightly at his return as his mutation drew on ambient energy to aid "de-phasing". Hades glanced at his watch and noted that it had barely been a few seconds. Hmm perhaps it was the determination to accomplish the mission. He turned to survey his surroundings and belatedly realized that the trooper who had just shot him was still looking at him with the gun swinging to point back at him with annoying inevitability. There was no chance of getting out of the way in time. Hades sighed as *Bang*.

Perhaps it was Hades increasing ire, but he flashed back into existence seconds after wards. His return caused him to twitch. *Bang*. This was going to be annoying. That was three.

The first time Hades "awoke" he recognized the make and model of the pistol pointed at him. It held a ten round mag. 

He awoke feeling frustrated. There was no time to phase and every return cost him energy and time. Peved he started making gestures as he waited for the trooper to exhaust his bullets.

Vulcan salute. *Bang*

V for victory flipped around. *Bang*

Devils Horns gesture. *Bang*

Fingure gun gesture. *Bang*

Double finger gun. *Bang*

F*** you gesture. *Bang*

That was nine. He came to brimming with wrath to find the trooper not a few steps from him. He gathered himself and slip one of his throwing knives into his hand. *Bang*

Dam, the conscientious little ***** had one in the chamber. Hades came around and this time the trooper was fumbling with the reload. So Hades stabbed him in the throat, the consequence being the trooper inconsiderately collapsing on top of him and also acting as a shield. A few more lights shinned in his direction then seemed to loose interest and move on. Hades retreated to the shadows to take stock. His discarded his helmet which had nine neat holes and one rather jagged hole. It was useless and the bullet holes showed the white inner material. Pulling on a replacement balaclava, he down a nutrient gel pack. It tasted like liquefied cardboard but it would keep him running for a while longer. Returning from the dead that many times in a row took its toll. And if the rest of the night was going to be like this, he would need all the energy he could get. 

He was out manned and out gunned and looked forward to be once again behind the scope of his OSV-96. But first where the hell was the rest of his team. He send out the pulse code for "sit rep". If he got no reply he would be coming to finish the job himself. Especially as he could literally walk through walls.