The rat ran around the roof top, nosing into old packets of chips and army ration packs. It paused a moment on the old mattress- long ago hauled up stairs to give the sniper nest a more comfortable feel- then scattered towards the sniper, smelling the food stains all over his pants. It begun to nibble on the still figure, but was promptly swatted away.  The rifleman broke his silence as the rat flew away from the couch which he sat in.

            “Bugger off you bloody vermin!”  

The resistance fighter chuckled as he looked back to the view from his ‘nest.’ The dusk skyline was lit a shade of pink worthy of any interior decorator; the fluffy clouds that hung peacefully scattered around the slowly fading sky added to the picturesque scene. The dark steel of the inner city skyscrapers pierced the skyline, the forces of nature blocked by the forces of industry.

The alarm clock next to the rifle began to ring slowly, it too was swatted with the ferocity of the rat – landing and bouncing harmlessly on the mouldy old mattress.

Tearing his sleep heavy eyes away from the tranquil scene, the sniper glanced back to the stairs leading to his nest. Irritated he reached over to the small radio, only an arm’s reach away.

            “König to Zaitsev, do you read.” Static buzzed towards him in reply…

            “Konig to Zaitsev – read?” Again greeted by static, König twisted the band of the radio.

            “König to Isengard do you read”

            “Read, what’s the problem, over”

            “Shift 4 hasn’t arrived, is the route thick, over”     

            “Oh shit, they didn’t tell you, Thorvald stuck his knife into his leg. He was trying to stab a rat. Over”

Grunting solely to himself, “Thor’s more of a dick then I thought he was…”

            “Roger that, when’s by shift change then? Over”

            “No idea, I’ll try and route a squad over to you. We’ll get you to 4th Gods. Over”

            “Roger Wilco, out.”