Nicolau took a swig of his drink, and studied his improvised coaster. "These are - or were - snipers. I tracked two of them down myself. We captured this one" -pointing at one crossed-out name - "last year. I was assigned to interrogate him. He provided intel for intel: he asked about the fates of the men he named on this list. I confirmed that we had captured and killed all but two. The day I told him of Lubov's death - this one- he laughed. He said 'Now there is only the Wolf.'
"He was happy to tell me which kills were done by who; he thought it honored his fallen. He was more matter-of-fact about his own kills. But his stories about the Wolf were the most elaborate, for they were the closest to impossible. He was almost giddy about spreading the fear.
Nicolau began arranging the condiments on the table. "I learned as much about the Wolf as I could. I almost flushed him out once, in Zagreb. I learned he doesn't do bell towers - there are so few left, they are too easy targets. Better for him a factory, and a hundred targets. I learned he uses our own munitions, or whatever he can find. I learned that he waited two days to complete an assignment, so his target could get shot on a beautiful day. He also shot one of our generals on the toilet, from 300 yards away.
"One day, this guy" -pointing again at the list, "-requests yard time. First sun in almost a week. So he goes out into the yard, does some stretches, faces the sun-" He pantomimes a firing gun. "Dead before he hit the ground. The Wolf."
Nicolau tipped the waitress and slipped on his jacket. "Finish your drink. It's a beautiful day."
Inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Death of a Storm Chaser"
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