In My Sights

It was an unusually warm September evening. Sweat slowly trickled from Zack’s hairline over the ridges of his wrinkled brow, through his bushy eyebrows, ending its journey directly in the marksman’s eyes. The salty perspiration stung, blurring his vision. It was a distraction, but so were the lights, the loud music, and the jostling crowd. Distractions were something to be tuned out, and there was no one better at doing that than Zack.

Life always placed Zack in high-pressure situations. Even as a kid, it would be up to him to score the winning touchdown or get a base hit that drove in the winning run. It wasn’t enough for him to be accepted into college; he had to go to West Point Military Academy. Once he was accepted, graduating less than the top of his class was not an option.

Marksmanship was his forte. The army recognized his unique ability and sent him to sniper school. By the end of his training, using a Barret 50 caliber sniper rifle was second nature to him. Zack could hit a target well over a mile away. With a skill set like that, it wasn’t long before he was assigned to a Delta Force unit.

His team was sent to all the global hot spots. The water-filled gallon jugs that were his targets during sniper school were replaced with people intent on doing this country, or one of its allies, harm. Zack hated what he was required to do, but understood why it was necessary.

Ten years into his army career, Zack decided he had had enough. It was time to leave the army and start a new life, or maybe rekindle an old one. His hometown, nestled in the Berkshire mountains, was small enough to have a friendly, folksy atmosphere, yet large enough to offer all the big city conveniences. He could walk down main street and run into someone he went to school with or friends of his parents. It would be a peaceful place to transition back into civilian life.

If there was one thing Zack promised himself he would never do again, it was pick up another rifle. That part of his life was over. He bought a pest control franchise, found the love of his life, married, and had a beautiful daughter. Life had given him everything a man could ask for. So why was he standing there with a rifle in his hands?

Charlotte, his wife, only asked Zack once about his army job. He told her most of it was classified and really couldn’t talk about it. As much as she wanted to learn more, she respected his answer and never brought the subject up again. His daughter, Annabelle, was too young to ask or even care about his service life. Unfortunately, she was the reason Zack found himself in this uncomfortable situation.

His assignment was simple; take out three targets with three and only three shots. It wasn’t anything he had not done before. The weapon he was assigned was far inferior to the Barret 50 he was used to, but he would make it work. Zack positioned himself for the optimal shot. He raised the rifle to his shoulder and scanned down the barrel at target number one. The gun sights were not properly aligned, but it didn’t matter. They would probably cause the average shooter to miss high and to the left. Zack was no ordinary shooter. He took in a deep breath, held it for several seconds, then slowly exhaled as his finger applied a slow steady pressure on the trigger. Target number one fell to the floor. Immediately, Zack repeated the process, and down went target number two.

Target number three stood defiantly, almost mocking Zack. Once again, Zack inhaled, maintaining the same disciplined procedure that had served him over his years as a sniper, and squeezed the trigger. Target three spun in place, then wobbled, finally joining his comrades on the ground.

“Congratulations, Sir! You may choose any stuffed animal from the top shelf,” called out the booth attendant loud enough for the nearby crowd to hear.

Zack bent down and scooped up the jubilant Annabelle in his arms, and lifted her up for a better view.

“Go ahead Honey, pick whichever stuffed animal you want.”

“I… want the pink bunny with the floppy ears, Daddy. That one right there!”

The man reached up, took down the selected rabbit, and handed it to Annabelle. She squealed with delight and gave her father a kiss on the cheek before he set her down.

Looking back over all his achievements, none made him feel as special as he did right now.