Too Many Heads

    Snow had fallen the night before while everyone slept.  On the morning of the 27th of March, warriors on both sides woke up to see a white blanket covering their battleground.  The cold was bitter and so, there were fewer British patrols on the streets.  A lot of the work had been passed on to the Penal Company.
    After the first battle of the war and subsequent skirmishes that followed, the number of the Penal Company had diminished.  They had arrived in Edinburgh with 75 men, now their ranks contained barely more than fifty.  Still a formidable size, more than enough to make a Para-militia ambush team think twice, but then, they weren’t being stalked by Para-militia, a much more fearsome threat hunted them.
    The large group of recent soldiers marched up a snow-covered road, the pristine white surface squeaking and crunching underneath their heavy boots.  Their leader, Jude Barrow, controlled them with an iron will.  A couple of their casualties had been sustained by Jude himself, executing those who were not adept at following.  All members of the Penal Company were now on a tight leash, afraid of their strict manager.
    Originally, the Penal Company had no designated officer but one had emerged in Jude Barrow.  He was the most organised out of this group of criminals and probably even the most violent; he was just more skilled at hiding it.
    The Penal Company had been ordered to patrol all day, to make for the fact that none of the real soldiers wanted to do it.  They had started after the snow had stopped falling, but still early in the morning and they weren’t allowed to return to the main camp until nightfall.  Jude was feeling cold, no doubt about it, but he pretended he wasn’t and shouted at any of his men who complained about the temperature.
    Jude was at the front and centre of the Company, walking quickly and ordering his men to keep up.
    “Spread out,” he commanded.  “Fill the street and keep your eyes open.”
    Jude was forced to wear the Penal Company bright yellow armband like all the rest of his men; they were sewn on their uniforms and couldn’t be taken off because that was where their pulse beacons were located.  He looked down in contempt at the phrase printed in neat black lettering along the armband:
Servi Belli
    As if this armband didn’t make him stand out enough against his bleak environment, his naturally blond hair did nothing to deter his worries.  This paranoia was completely rational because as Jude Barrow patrolled down this long road with his fellow conscripts, someone was staring at him through a sniper’s scope.
    He had been watching Jude since he first came into view, examining every part of his face.  The mystery watcher deduced Jude to be in his late thirties to early forties but a casual observer would probably guess younger than that, his face hadn’t caught up with his age yet.  The sniper could tell his true age, he had been watching his eyes, they looked tired, and he knew that look well.
    It wasn’t time to attack yet, the watcher waited for him to come slightly closer, he knew the precise moment he was going to strike; it had all been planned out.  This man had been watching Jude for a while now, it had been so long and he had learned so much he felt like he knew him.  Before, he had been too timid to face him due to the size of his retinue, but not anymore.
    The sniper’s breathing was purposefully slow; he was focussing a lot of energy on keeping it constant as he continued to target the leader of the Penal Company.  He prayed he wouldn’t be spotted before he was ready to be seen, just a little more time was necessary, just a little further did they need to come.
    His finger tightened on the trigger, he knew he shouldn’t shoot yet, he couldn’t trust his own restraint so took his finger off it altogether.  His scope moved with Jude’s footsteps, it was almost time; he hadn’t taken on a challenge this great before, he wasn’t sure if he’d succeed.  The tension grew but his grip remained steady, he felt eager and at the same time, slightly anxious.
    The Penal Company slowed slightly as Jude Barrow turned his head to address his troops, they had already crossed the threshold and he could attack whenever he wanted now.  This was perfect timing, he lay there, staring at the back of Jude’s head.  It was now time, he inhaled deeply, held that breath and pressed the button.
    The men of the Penal Company had virtually stopped now as Jude barked orders back at them.  They were used to this, what they weren’t used to was what happened next.
    Both building on either side of the road exploded furiously, most of the Penal Company fell to the ground, including Jude.  He lay flat on his back, covered in debris, looking around he could see several soldiers screaming and clutching at where their limbs used to be.
    Over the ringing in his ears, he was sure he could hear the muffled sound of singular gunshots in rapid succession.  The few soldiers that had remained on their feet were swiftly being floored as sniper’s bullets pierced each of their skulls.
    Seeing this, Jude reacted instantly, getting back onto his feet, wiping the dust from his eyes and told his men to take cover.  They did so as best as they could but the ones with legs missing were left behind.  All the remaining men of the Penal Company squeezed down alleyways and behind cars to escape the sniper fire.  They could only watch as the hidden sniper executed their wounded, who were left behind in the middle of the road where they fell.
    Jude peered out from behind a wall as the shooter finished off the last of the wounded.  He could make out where the muzzle flashes were coming from, it was the second floor of a house at the end of the road.
    “You two,” Jude addressed two nearby men.  “He’s in that old house down the street, top floor, left window.  Circle round and make him pay.”  He then signalled for a couple of soldiers hiding on the other side of the road to do the same.
    As they began to flank the sniper, Jude proceeded in giving them a distraction; he opened fire at the house with his assault rifle.  It was quite a distance from him and the standard Penal Company weapons were just that, standard.  The only attachments they had was a basic torch, Jude had no hope of hitting him, his only goal was to distract the sniper for a moment or two.
     Jude was forced to stop shooting when the sniper shot right past his ear; the sudden whizzing sound made him automatically duck down, back behind his cover.  The sniper was skilled, but his view of Jude was obscured by the ash that still floated in the air around the burnt out buildings where Jude hid.  As it fell to the ground, it looked like the snow had started to fall again.
    The sniper couldn’t believe he missed, he was so angry with himself.  His vision skittered across the charred corpses in the road and over to where he suspected more soldiers hid, then back again to where Jude lingered.  He waited for his next opportunity and was adamant that this time he wouldn’t miss.
    He began to wonder why Jude fired at him, he had studied Jude well enough that he knew he liked to think of himself as a professional and a professional wouldn’t have irrationally shot at him like that.  His suspicion grew so he picked up the pulse scanner next to him; it said that four people were sneaking up on him.
    He was proud of Jude; he did what he would’ve done in that situation.  The sniper began to search the area to the right where the scanner indicated he should look.  Sure enough, he spotted two Penal soldiers between the gaps in the houses; he waited until they arrived at the damaged house ahead of them.  A part of the wall was gone and so the gap was larger, giving him a longer opportunity to kill them.
    As soon as he could see the first head appear, he fired, killing the first man instantly.  The second stared at his fallen comrade for a second, exactly one second too long as he then got a bullet through his throat.  The Penal soldier hit the snow and began riving about, making rasping noises as he tried to call for help.
    The sound of these two shots made the other two Penal troopers quicken their pace; they arrived at the back of the house that Jude had indicated was the sniper’s location.
    The pair helped each other over the wall, their presence dislodged the snow stuck on the top and it landed in the back garden with them.  The garden was small and overgrown, with green shoots protruding above the white base and a tall fruitless tree stood silently in one corner.
    They crept towards the back door as the tall grass brushed against their legs, never turning their attention away from the potential movement at any of the windows.  The back door was thin, wooden and had a medium-sized window making up the top of it.  They tried to open it but the door was still locked, one of them peered through the window but it was too gloomy inside to see much.
    The other Penal trooper told his partner to stand back as he smashed the window with the butt of his shotgun.  The sniper inside had probably heard that but it was too late for him to escape anyway, he’d been cornered.  One reached inside and unlocked the door; they opened it and entered the dim house cautiously.
    The soldiers both turned on the torches attached to the undersides of their weapons and began to search the house.  They appeared to have entered the house through the kitchen, from the state of it; they could tell no one had lived here in months.
    They moved through the nearest door into what looked like the living room, the two shone their lights in every corner just to be sure.  The measured steps they tried to control were hindered by leg tremors.  The nerves were getting to them; there was no way of knowing if the sniper was by himself or if he had friends waiting.  The soldiers took their time in proceeding to the hall, one gestured towards the stairs and the other man nodded.
    The two men eased their way up the stairs, walking as softly as they could on each step.  Near the top of the stairs, the man in front caused a step below him to creak under his weight.  In any other situation, the noise wouldn’t have sounded so loud but right here, in this house, it was deafening.  The man cringed as he caused that sound; he looked back at his partner who signalled to keep going.  They both continued, avoiding that step and let their flashlights flicker over the wall as they arrived on the landing.
    Having several rooms to choose from, they picked the one they assumed would be connected to the widow the sniper had been shooting from.  The door was already partly open and from the doorway, they could see him, lying down if front of a small hole in the glass.  They turned off their torches, the light from the window was enough to see him by and it seemed he hadn’t noticed their arrival yet and they wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.
    From what they could make out, the man was a loan Para-militia sniper, helmet on and face covered by the connected veil.  Some sort of electronic device was lying on the floor beside him and a large empty black bag rested on his other side.
    The door was gently pushed open slightly and the two soldiers entered slowly, their weapons pointing at the prone sniper, they continued to step closer until they were practically on top of him.  They nodded to one another and fired, both shotgun and assault rifle pumping round after round into the man‘s back.
    When they stopped, the two men were breathing heavily; the man with the assault rifle scooped up the device and examined it.  As he was doing this, the one with the shotgun turned the dead sniper over and inspected the man’s rifle, it was out of ammo.  The man with the assault rifle couldn’t believe it; this scanner was picking up the locations of the entire company.
    He was about to inform his comrade of this revelation but he began to speak first.  “Hey, look at this,” he said.  He was pointing to the face of the dead sniper who he had just unmasked.  “There’s a bullet hole in his head, we didn’t shoot him there, did we?”
    “Maybe Jude got him,” the other one said.
    “Yeah, I guess.  We should check the rest of this place.”
    “Sure…”
    That last sentence was cut short by a tall dark figure grabbing the man’s hair from behind, yanking his head back and saying, “Hello brother,” in the man’s ear just before shoving a knife into his back.
    The soldier grunted and let out a burst with his rifle, hitting his partner in the chest, who collapsed against the wall.  The man in the dark figure’s grip went limp and was released.  As the man fell, the dark figure’s white collar was revealed.
    The priest cleaned his knife, wrapped it in a strip of cloth and placed it back in his pocket.  He looked at the faces of the two men he had just killed and then took the scanner out of the man’s hand, it said that the Penal Company were advancing.
    When Jude Barrow heard the gunfire from inside the house, he ordered his company to charge forwards.  They all descended upon the house and took up positions around it.  Jude waited for his men to come out, when they didn’t, he sent three more men inside.  As they stepped out from behind their cover and approached the house, all three were gunned down by automatic fire from the upper window.
    Jude, seeing this, ordered his men to fire on the house.  Bullets stormed in through the window, shattering every square inch of glass and destroying most of the brickwork.  Jude ordered them to stop firing and waited in a few seconds of calm silence.  Then he personally ran for the front door, he made it there without coming under fire and kicked the door open.  He could hear movement.
    Turning on his torch, he could see a man running through a door, he followed him into the living room and took a shot at him but the bullets hit the wall as he ran into the kitchen.  This man was fast, by the time he followed him into the kitchen, the man was already in the back garden.  As Jude burst through the door and out into the snow covered garden, he found himself alone.
    Jude looked down and distinguished his footprints from those of his own men; they lead up to the wall.  He used the tree to climb up onto the wall and looked around, he saw him.  The man in all black stood out quite well in his all white surroundings.
    Jude called out to his men to run past the house and join him in the pursuit.  He jumped down off the wall and ran after the man, the area behind these houses were wild and untended, it was a large patch of grass and old trees that hadn’t been gotten rid of yet, it resembled a kind of mini-forest.  Jude pushed past the old branches, shaking snow loose that would then fall on him as he chased the black blur ahead of him.
    The man turned round just long enough to get a shot off at him, it thudded into a tree that Jude ran past.  Jude shot back but missed him, it didn’t matter, he could hear his men charging through the thicket behind him and this man couldn’t run forever.
    Jude kept on running, even when he lost sight of his prey, he just continued in the general direction he thought he saw him go in.  He didn’t stop until he came to an open gate that lead into someone else’s back garden.  He peaked round the corner, no one there, he entered and still no one was there.
    He looked to his left, then his right, and there he was.  In the distance, a dark shape was jumping over a fence; Jude immediately found an extra burst of energy to propel his already fatigued body and followed him.  He began leaping over fence after fence as the chase continued.  Jude wasn’t sure why catching him seemed so important, it was true that this man had killed more of his men than any other individual in this war had but that wasn’t it, he didn’t even like any of his soldiers, it was more a matter of pride.  Every foe that Jude Barrow had come up against, he had defeated, none had gotten away, it was too unprofessional.
    He hopped the final fence and landed in a wide alleyway that ran alongside this group of houses.  The dark figure had slowed to a walk by now, he probably thought he had lost his pursuers and was now strolling away, a little further down the passage.
    Jude decided that this was his moment; he crouched behind a corner and aimed at him.  This was the first time he had appeared to him as more than just a dark shape, he was a tall man and looked very muscular, even underneath all those thick layers.  He took his shot, a short burst of three, but only one hit him, in the back of his upper left leg.  The man stumbled but didn’t fall; instead he rolled to the side and took cover behind a low wall.  He returned fire almost immediately and hit the wall as Jude crouched behind it again, sending dust up into the air.
    What followed was a stubborn stalemate, each fighter taking shots at one another in turn and filling the brick walls each man was using as cover with their bullets.  After a few minutes, Jude spotted the rest of his soldiers behind him at the end of the alley, he signalled for them to follow, saying, “Hurry up, I’ve got him pinned down!”
    All surviving members of the Penal Company joined their leader and took up positions, waiting for their target to show himself.  “Open fire!” Jude screamed to his men.
    The short wall that their enemy was hiding behind was suddenly sprayed with rounds from the Penal Company.  The priest lay on the ground and waited for the shooting to stop, he pulled something out of his coat to encourage them to stop.  Jude noticed a small dark object rolling through the snow towards a group of his men.  He shouted, “Grenade!” and ducked down behind a wall.
    The blast killed a couple more Penal soldiers and the priest used the distraction to take off, down a side alley behind him.  Jude ordered his men to follow him and some ran up to the alley and started firing, the return fire hit one of them between the eyes and he fell down dead.  Jude told a soldier next to him, “Call in for some help.”
    “It’s just one guy.”
    “It’s one guy who’s almost killed half the unit,” Jude said.  “We need help; ask for whatever we can get.”
    Jude made his men fall back, the priest was too good a shot, he approached the alley and looked where the priest was going, he had turned left, the alley Jude and his men were in also lead to the road which the priest escaped onto.  “Follow me,” he said.  “Let’s cut him off.”
    They ran to the end of the wide alley and waited until he was in sight; the communications soldier patted Jude on the back.  “They said there’s someone close by who could help us out.”
    “Good work,” Jude said.
    The priest ran out of the side alley and onto the snow coated wide street.  “There he is,” Jude said.  “Let’s go.”
    The Penal Company flooded out onto the road, closing in on the fleeing priest.  Bullets from their rifles chased the priest, many hitting them in the back, the impact forced him to the ground but he was up again instantly.
    “This guy won’t die,” Jude said.
    The priest spun around and half-ran backwards as he fired at the Penal Company chasing him.  Jude ran towards him, shooting, a bullet grazed his right arm but he didn’t even flinch.  The priest found an ice-encrusted car to hide behind and continued shooting, making the Penal Company once again take cover from his fire.
    The priest grew desperate, he didn’t stop firing at his enemy because he couldn’t risk them starting to shoot back again.  It was growing less and less likely that he was going to escape, they just wouldn’t give up hounding him.  The priest kept the trigger firmly pulled down until there were no more bullets to shoot.
    He had run out of ammunition and had none spare left either.  The priest gave up; he threw his stolen rifle to the ground and ran as fast as he could in the direction of the road’s end with the Penal Company still in hot pursuit.
    Enduring the odd stumble, his determination to escape never let up, he kept running as Penal Company bullets hitting the ground around him sent powder shooting up to eye level.
    He was still on his feet as he neared the end of the street, the priest was so distracted with the thrill that he might actually escape, he didn’t even notice the low rumble that was causing the ground to shake.  As he entered the mad dash to the finish, his escape was cut off by the appearance of a Cerberus tank coming round the corner.
    This machine of war blocked his way, it drove from around a cross street and began to turn in the priest’s direction.  He stopped in his tracks and looked behind him; the Penal Company had closed in and had taken up positions on either side of the road, keeping their guns firmly fixed on the now stationary priest.
    The Penal Company gave him a wide berth; they had seen what he had done to other members of their unit.  Jude chuckled and said, “There’s nowhere left for you.”
    The priest looked around frantically for a new mode of fleeing as the Cerberus tank trundled directly towards him.  It stopped and the two Cerberus computers began to target him, finding no radio pulse being emitted from him.
    The priest was still searching for a new way out but, before he found it, each machine gun fired one shot, both large calibre bullets hit him right in the chest, causing him to fall back and hit the ground dramatically.  Jude waved at the tank and stepped forwards to inspect his fallen adversary, his attention was most snared by the dead man’s white collar.  He shrugged it off and looked around at his men; he would be surprised to learn if he still had more than thirty soldiers left.
    “Penal Company!” Jude ordered.  “Move out!”
    “What about him?” a subordinate asked regarding their vanquished foe.
    “Just leave him for the dead collectors,” Jude callously remarked as the other soldiers of the Penal Company were already departing.
    It had been an eventful morning, but nonetheless, they couldn’t return to base until nightfall, they still had work to do.