But Cole had one more trick up his sleeve. He was betting that the two remaining Germans would indeed split up. The German officer would surely go after Bauer. That had been the whole purpose of his pursuit.
Leaving Bauer behind in his hiding place, he retraced their path. About seventy feet away, he reached a point where he would strike out on his own. He wanted to send a message to make certain that the Jaeger followed him instead of going after Bauer. He took a spent shell from his pocket and stuck it on the end of a twig. Then he started off into the woods, carving his own trail.
For the Jaeger, the spent shell from another sniper would be like a gauntlet thrown to the ground.
He wondered how he knew that.
Because I would do the same thing, that’s why. I’d go after the other sniper. Let the officers settle whatever business was between them. When it came to snipers, one man had to prove himself better with a rifle than the other. It was as simple as that.
The question was, Just how good was this Jaeger?
They were about to find out.
Cole hurried, pressing deeper into the snowy forest.
Messner and Dietzel followed the group’s tracks through the snow. To their surprise, the tracks separated. A blood-speckled trail led one way, while two distinct sets of footprints veered off in another — Bauer’s German boots unmistakable among them. Without hesitation, they pursued Bauer’s path, surmising that he and an American had split from the others to avoid being slowed down by the wounded soldier.
It seemed like a cowardly choice, abandoning the slower group to save Bauer’s hide, which wasn’t all that surprising where Bauer was concerned.
They would finish off Bauer first.
“They can’t be far ahead,” Dietzel said.
“Yes, let’s make haste,” Messner agreed, his voice tinged with anticipation. “The sooner we catch them, the better.”
The two Germans quickened their pace, now almost running through the dense woods, eager to close in on their quarry. But soon the trail forked again. The American’s tracks headed one way, while Bauer’s went another. The different boot prints in the snow were as plain to read as a road sign.
“Bauer went this way,” Messner pointed out, noting the difference in the boot prints, something that the Jaeger had shown him earlier. “We need to go after him.”
Messner turned in that direction. However, Dietzel hung back. He had noticed a spent rifle shell stuck on the end of a twig, clearly left as a calling card.
Or an invitation.
“What about the American sniper?” the Jaeger asked. “It looks like he went in this direction.”
“Who cares about him?” Messner snapped in reply. “It’s Bauer that we’re after.”
Still, Dietzel hesitated. “Perhaps you should pursue Bauer alone, Herr Hauptmann. I have a score to settle with the American. He shot Gettinger. Besides, we would be better off knowing that he can’t come after us in these woods.”
Messner was hesitant at first, then nodded his approval. This didn’t mean that he wasn’t somewhat exasperated by the Jaeger’s line of thinking. When he replied, he sounded impatient and annoyed. “Very well. I will track Bauer. It shouldn’t be that hard in this snow. You hunt the American.”
With a single nod, Dietzel disappeared into the forest. Messner, now alone, advanced cautiously. The trees seemed to conspire against him, closing in around him. Then he saw a glimpse of blue-gray — the familiar color of a German uniform — visible among the trees. Once he had spotted it, the uniform coat stood out plainly against the natural surroundings.
“I’ve found you, Bauer. There is no escape now,” Messner whispered, his Schmeisser pistol ready, advancing silently, eyes fixed on the uniform ahead. This business of pursuing Bauer had taken far too long, and he would be glad to conclude it once and for all.
As he crept within arm’s reach, he expected to savor Bauer’s shock before pulling the trigger — but he stepped into the clearing to find only an empty coat, nothing more than a decoy propped up by a branch.
Confusion reigned as trampled snow obscured Bauer’s escape route.
Where has the bastard gone?
Messner was not left wondering for long. From behind a log, Bauer stuck up his head, pistol aimed at Messner’s heart. Messner reacted, but Bauer’s shot rang out first. The bullet’s impact never registered with Messner.
His finger hooked over the trigger as he died, sending a volley of fire from the submachine gun spewing harmlessly into the forest canopy overhead.
Satisfied that Messner had been alone, Bauer left his hiding place. He stood over the Hauptmann and shot him in the head for good measure.
Down the trail, Cole registered the solitary gunshot — a promising sign that one threat was neutralized. However, that had instantly been followed by a burst of automatic fire. It was hard to know what that meant. Had Bauer missed his chance and been gunned down? A final, single pistol shot signaled otherwise. He knew a coup de grâce when he heard one.
Now the final contest fell to him. Cole pressed on, aimless yet determined, as late-afternoon shadows began to claim the forest. He preferred to conclude this chase with daylight as his ally. Otherwise the two snipers would be playing a deadly game of blindman’s bluff. How close was the German sniper on his heels?
Cole was certain the German would follow, because a challenge was irresistible to a man like him. After all, Cole understood the Jaeger, as it was like looking in the mirror. Pressing forward, he discovered a landscape feature that could turn the tables — a ravine, sharply cut into the hillside, almost as if by design rather than by nature. He entered, leaving conspicuous tracks, but it was a deliberate ploy. He wanted to leave no doubt where he had gone.
The ravine, narrow with rocky sides and a dusting of snow, resembled a cattle chute. He had the unsettling thought that it was how cattle were funneled into the slaughterhouse.
Emerging on the other side, Cole saw how the trees had fallen away to create a clearing, because the ground was paved with smooth rock where tree roots could find no purchase. Clearly the same natural forces that had been at work in carving the ravine had also been responsible for this clearing.
Unfortunately, there was no cover to speak of. Cole hoofed it across the rocky space, breaking into a run, feeling exposed at every step. He could almost imagine the German sniper coming out of the ravine, his crosshairs fixing between Cole’s shoulder blades.
He said a silent prayer. Not yet.
He reached a ring of trees on the other side of the clearing and got under cover. Far enough, he thought. This was where the showdown would take place.
Now or never.
Cole rested his rifle across a log to steady it and willed his heart rate to slow down. He wouldn’t be able to shoot worth a damn if he was shaking this much. A minute went by, then another, and he felt steadier.
Putting the scope to his eye, he saw the ravine spring closer, knowing that it was exactly where the German sniper would emerge. There was nothing to do now but wait. He supposed that the German couldn’t be more than a few minutes behind him, but the minutes stretched out longer than they should have.
Cole was puzzled about what was taking the man so long. He took his eye away from the scope and studied the bigger picture of the woods across from him.
That was when he spotted the movement at the top of the ravine.
It was the Jaeger.
Cole’s cold lips formed a grin. You had to hand it to that Kraut. The German had nearly outmaneuvered him, scaling the ravine’s wall to avoid emerging right into Cole’s firing zone.
But Cole was ready, and the German was in his sights, about thirty yards away.