Gewehr 98

Rockhampton Express. For an express train, it did seem to be somewhat; not. There had been multiple stops; many of them unexpected, along the way of an already lengthy rail trip.

This particular coach was fairly crowded. The bench style seats held 3 adults comfortably, and nearly every single one was full. For almost the entire journey, he had a bench all to himself.

He was several hours from his destination; having travelled through the long night. There had been several times after stopping at various stations, that someone had walked by his row. When the person stopped at his row; and looked him in the eye, they made the decision to sit elsewhere.

There was no outward reason why time after time, different people chose to sit elsewhere. He was not much to look at. Non-descript was a good term to use, if for some reason you were describing him. He was not memorable. In a strange way; that was perhaps the most memorable thing about him.

He was looking out the window at the countryside as it passed by his window. Leaning against the window next to him was a long cloth wrapped bundle. It was 130 centimeters long and weigh nearly 4 kilograms. They had been together since the Great War.

In the chalky trenches in what had become one of the deadliest battles in human history; he had used it to take forty three enemy soldiers -English-, because it was war and he was doing his duty.

Through the course of the War, he had taken nearly three times that many enemies. It was the one thing he was really good at in his life.

He recalled one particular instance where he had spent 11 hours in a hollowed out tree, and taken out an officer from a distance that would take an average man fifteen minutes to walk.

The only time on his trip that he had not been alone on his bench seat; had been in the wee hours of this morn. He had nodded off; leaning against the cool window and his cloth wrapped bundle, when he had started awake suddenly. He was always a light sleeper and could wake in an instant if disturbed in the slightest way.

His fitful rest had been disrupted by ein kleiner junge. This particular boy was sandy haired with lots of freckles on his inquisitive face; and ears that were maybe three sizes too large for his young face. Hopefully the boy would grow into them.

“Hi!,” the boy had said, and received no response. The boy looked expectantly at the unremarkable man and after nearly a minute asked; “what’s your name?”

The youngster seemed to expect an answer; and after waiting patiently for a minute, and looking the older man in the eye to make sure he was actually awake, asked again. “What’s your name?”

The man had been giving the boy his best -I don’t want to be bothered so go away- stare for more than a minute; but the boy just sat and waited for an answer to his question. So the man answered; “Arminius.”

The boy looked confused for a moment and then responded; “that’s a big name!”

The man looked thoughtful for a moment then spoke; “I suppose it is a big name.” He continued; “my father was a history professor at University in Berlin, and I always felt that he thought a historical name was an indicator that I would do great things.”

The boy spoke up; “it is a big name, so I will call you Armi!”

The man considered this, then asked; “and what is your name young master?” “I’m Stevie,” the boy told him. “Well Master Stevie,” the man said; “and where is your Mutter?”

the boy looked confused; so the man asked again “your Mum, where is your Mum?” The boy’s confusion could have been due to the heavy teutonic accent that the man spoke with; or the unfamiliar term for mother.

“My Mums asleeping;” the boy had answered as he tilted his head to look several rows over. The man looked over to where Stevie’s Mutter sat dozing on a similar bench seat to his own. There was a large man next to her, and she was leaning against him as he also slumbered.

The man considered for a moment and told Stevie; “it’s rather late, perhaps you should be sleeping as well.” The boy nodded his head negatively; “I think it’s early.” Armi thought a moment and gave his opinion to young Stevie:”it seems to me Master Stevie, that if you have yet to go to bed, that it is late: but that if you have been sleeping, and are just now arising, well then it’s early.” The boy thought on it for a moment; then a big grin split his face and he said, “that’s awful smart Armi!”

The man nodded slowly in agreement and then Stevie asked him; “what’s that?” The boy was looking at the cloth wrapped bundle that was leaning against the window. “Well Barchen;” the man said to the boy, “that is a G-98.” The boy scrunched up his nose, which made his over large ears twitch just a bit. “What’s that?” he asked. The man touched it and said; “that’s a rifle.”

The boy seemed interested and said; “my Hendas has a rifle; he uses it to shoot squirrels, and sometimes coneys.” The man nodded his head slowly. The boy continued with, “he says them buggers got it coming to them because they get into his cabbages.” The boy grinned as he spoke; but then he glanced furtively towards where his mother was dozing, and said, “don’t tell my Mum.” The man got a wry grin on his face and told Stevie; “your secret’s safe with me.”

The boy kept on; “do you shoot squirrels and coneys?” Armi considered his answer before he spoke. He didn’t see the need for the boy to know the entire truth. He told the boy; “I shoot bigger things.” Stevie nodded his head up and down and asked, “like cows?” The man thought for a moment and said, “sure.”

The boy asked, “why?” The answer he got was; “well people pay me.” Stevie wanted to know more so he asked; “why?” The man told him; “I’m pretty good at it.” The boy seemed content for but a moment, and then asked,”why would people want you to be shooting cows?”

The man thought hard on this for several moments; and he could see Stevie leaning towards him, obviously waiting for an answer. “Well Master Stevie,”the man said, “I figure that as long as they pay me; and I do what I’m good at, then it doesn’t really matter why they want that cow shot.”

The boy looked at the G-98 and asked;”can I see it?” Armi shook his head slowly in a negative fashion. “I don’t think your Mum would approve.” The boy looked dejected, but after a moment he agreed with “you’re probly right Armi.”

He could see that the boy’s eyelids were starting to droop, and the youngster yawned. Stevie looked the unremarkable man in the eye and said; “it’s late, I should be asleeping.” Armi smiled and thought to himself; or is it early?

“Nice to meet you Armi;”the boy said as he slipped off the bench seat to make his way over to his Mum, several rows away. “And you as well Master Stevie;” the man said to the young boy.

After his encounter with the inquisitive youngster, the man had taken out a telegram to go over what had brought him on this journey.

The city where he was going after his “cow”, was home to 3 distinct criminal organizations. The South, West, and the rest of the city were under sway of an Enterprise, Syndicate, and Family.

Since the end of the war he had supplemented his earnings by using his particular skill. This was the first time that he had taken on a job at the request of a head of a criminal organization. And it was certainly the first time his target had been a highly placed person in that same organization.

He wondered what the reason behind the job could be; but only briefly, because he had told the boy the truth. As long as he was paid for his services; then he made sure his service was rendered.

You would not have expected to find such a lovely spot on a hill overlooking the beach, so close to the city. It was a five minute walk from the Southwest part of the city and the expansive docks that served it.

He had been laying somewhat comfortably in his vantage point for nearly seven hours.

He had received further information after his lengthy train ride brought him into the city. That information and a description of the “cow” he was after had caused him to wait here. After he had waited a little more than an hour; his target had arrived at a multi-storied brick building. The motor coach that he had arrived in was fancy; and the well dressed man entered a little too quickly for him to get the job done. So he waited for another opportunity.

He watched the building for several more hours through his hi powered scope. From this distance a man appeared to be the size of his pinky finger. His target was distinctively well dressed; but he had made no further appearance after several hours.

Armi was patient; always had been, and was determined to get the job done. At least his grassy knoll was a pleasant spot to wait.

It was somewhat chilly in his waiting place;there had actually been snow the previous day, which was unusual because it was only mid-June.

After close to his sixth hour of waiting; he saw three men approach the building surreptitiously from the beach side. They stood out somewhat because he could tell they were big men. An average man seemed to be the size of his pinky finger through his optics, at this distance. Two of the men were about the size of his finger if he had smashed it with a hammer; and the last of them was about the size of his thumb, in his scope. These three “cows” were not his assignment; so he continued to wait.

Armi waited a little more than an hour more and he saw the three big men rush out of the building. He could see that one of the men was quite bloody: the thumb sized man was carrying the bloody one; he saw them take the fancy motor car: they drove off in a hurry.

Another half hour of waiting and he was rewarded with another vehicle arriving; and three individuals exited the motor coach and entered the building. Not long after; the three individuals left the building. Two of them were carrying an improvised stretcher and there was a figure on it. Through his optics; Armi recognized the sharp dressed figure that was his target. If that man had walked out of the building under his own power, then he would have certainly been taken out. That is what Armi had been paid to do; but the inert figure on the slab was clearly no longer among the living.

He had seen so much death during the War and after: for much of it, he had been the direct cause. But there was something not quite right about the unmoving form on the improvised stretcher. The word that came to his mind was; lumpy.

In any case; he knew that his “cow” was no longer a valid target because he was in fact no longer living.

Armi was almost loathe to leave his lovely vantage point; but he had to consider his situation. He had been paid to do a task; but had been unable to complete the task, through no fault of his own.

He supposed that he should meet with the person who had employed him to do this thing, and offer a “refund” of some sort. He thought that she seemed a reasonable sort and that they should be able to come to some sort of agreement.

He packed up his G-98; turned it into the familiar cloth-wrapped bundle, and decided he could sit here on this lovely beach hillside for another fifteen minutes: then he would go.