......

Fucking Chechnya and fucking Chechens and fucking war... My nose is running already and the shivers are building. Come ON already! You fuck! Come on already; it's dark, the gear is in check as are we. come ON!.
Finally! We move out.
As soon as possible i find a decent cover, a shallow hole in the ground, between roots of some tree. By the size of those roots it must be huge, but i can't see it that well in the darkness yet. Night vision on. Others have deployed east of me, and my spotter is somewhat ahead, i hear a faint noise of his gear rattling. Idiot! If i weren't this messed up, it'd really, really piss me off. He can't even check the wind silently. I take my kit out, systematically working, my Gyurza cocked, round chambered.
It took me a while to get the proper technique down. Cooking up under night vision, while sheltering the flame. It goes without a glitch now. 20 second, not more. Now finding a vein under night vision is something altogether different, as is spotting a register in a syringe. Takes skill. Takes feel. I listen to the night, Death is all around us. I hit it on a second try. Seep in Afghanistan, seep in; may I never see you again if I get alive out of Chechnya.
Yes.
This is it. Hatred is metabolically impossible now.
Faint, rhythmic rat clicking as i take the sling off my leg. Spotter confirms the position ahead. Naturally, I feel a lot more sympathetic now. He's not so bad...


I take the cover off of my scopes' lenses.
parallax...
lead..


 Now, we can go to work.