Nace Bilby
ACME
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(OOC: This takes place during the ACME Retro Timeline. This was written with @Jason West .)
(Warning: Rated PG-13 for disturbing themes, language, and war violence.)
Geary Courtyard
San Francisco, CA
United States of America
2004 (Retro timeline)
Nace Bilby was busy with the routine of moving into his apartment building. His latest item he was carrying up to his apartment was a Yugoslavian M76 rifle.
Externally resembling an AKM-47 rifle with a long barrel and a telescopic sight, mechanically it was nothing like its infamous cousin. It was chambered in 7.92x57mm Mauser, with a semi-automatic action and sporting ten round magazines. The rifle sported a heavy telescopic sight, variable powered to allow for adjusting for different ranges. What looked to be a Serbian coat of arms was visible on the stock, which was splintered near the top, where a bullet had grazed over the top before striking the rifle’s past owner.
After hearing what sounded like someone moving in next door to him, Jason West decided he would step out to see if he could lend a hand with moving things in. As he pulled the door closed, he bumped into a man carrying what he recognized as an M76 rifle.
“Sorry about that sir. Nice rifle. I haven’t seen one of those in ages. The name is Jason West and what might yours be?” Jason asked.
“Nace Bilby. Pleasure to meet you.” Nace replied with his British accent as he put out his hand for a handshake.
“What brings you to San Francisco, Nace?” Jason asked while shaking Nace’s hand.
“I’ve been sent to ACME by the South African National Defense Force as a guest instructor in firearms and EOD for their Junior Detective program. And you?”
“ACME has brought me on as a guest instructor for the technological portion of the Junior Detective program. I’m also well versed in weapons. If you need any help with your weapons classes, feel free to ask me. I brought most of my weapons along with me. I’m sure between the two of us, we’ll have plenty of unique weapon systems for them to learn on.”
"Right, I'll be more than willing to lend a hand." Nace replied, "My areas of expertise are various sniper rifles and the many Kalashnikov variants one can find floating around Africa."
---
Democratic Republic of the Congo
1998
The screaming of the wounded man, shot through the stomach melded with the keening wails of his wife who stood beside her wounded husband.
What the hell, Kantorek? An Olympic Medallist marksman and you fail to score a kill? Rifleman Nace Bilby thought as he scanned the town and the nearby jungle, searching for possible locations the shot could’ve come from.
For all of this deployment Nace and other snipers from 4 Special Forces Regiment, South African Special Forces Brigade, had been trying to hunt down a Serbian mercenary sniper named Kantorek. The locals as well as several of the United Nations Peacekeepers were very much in dread of the crosshairs of this former Yugoslav police counterterrorist sniper turned mercenary as he never missed a shot.
There’s no way you’re bloody ego is going to let you walk off from a miss. Nace thought as he watched and waited, hoping Kantorek would fire another shot.
Lance Corporal Jan Kreuger also scanned the area with the spotting telescope and his binoculars. The more experienced Special Forces operator whispered, “What do you imagine Kantorek’s targets are this week?”
“Last week it was women. The week earlier it was school children. And the week before clergy and aid workers.” Nace replied, trying to keep calm.
I hope you do fire again, wanker. Nace thought. Just let me give you a third eye and send you straight to the Phlegethon River where you’ll be boiled in blood.
“This time it looks like old men.” Kreuger remarked.
“And hopefully this time I give him a third eye.” Nace replied from behind the Steyr 669 sniper rifle.
“Oi, wind your neck in, Nace.” Kreuger said, coolly, “Looks like a patrol’s headed their way.”
There indeed was a patrol of some of the UN Peacekeeping contingent was heading their way. It was as they arrived at the scene that Kantorek fired again.
The shot tore into the wife’s skull just below her right eye, sending her falling to earth. The nearby medic had been splattered by the results of Kantorek’s shot.
“The three old houses near the treeline.” Kreuger said.
“Right.” Nace replied. Come on, wanker. Show yourself.
Kantorek fired a third shot. This one hit his original victim in the head. He’s got to be firing a semi-automatic. That’s a hell of a fast reacquisition of a target.
“Third house to the right.” Kreuger said.
“On it.” Nace replied, looking through the large hole in the roof. He saw a man perched atop the rafters, well back from the hole like a well trained sniper. But his face was pale and unshaven. And that gave him away.
Nace was all business now.
“Range, 978 meters.” Kreuger said.
“Right.” Nace said, adjusting his aimpoint. Squeezing the trigger with a slow and steady pressure and feeling the Steyer buck with the recoil. Hearing the report of the rifle. Then seeing Kantorek’s head pitch backward as the bullet punched through his torso, causing him to fall from the building rafters like a shotgunned bird.
Vae Victus. Nace thought. Suffering to the Conquered.
“**** you, Kantorek.” Nace said, simply as he worked the Steyr's bolt slowly and letting the spent brass eject slowly so he could catch it and stick it in his pocket. After all this hide might be useful again.
---
Langebaan, South Africa
1998
“Bless me Father for I have sinned.” Nace said as he sat in the confessional, “My sin is that of murder.”
“You are a soldier, my son.” the priest said.
“Yes, but I should not act with passion or hate in battle. I acted with both.” Nace began, “On this tour we were against a mercenary sniper, a Serb named Kantorek. He was a bloody murderer, a cruel bloke who just enjoyed shooting people like they were targets at a carnival booth.”
“I shot the man. And I don’t regret having done that. For this I sinned.” Nace replied.
“Do you believe that you were a soldier in a just war, Nace?” the priest replied.
“I do, Father. But an action where I shot a bloody kid does not feel like I’ve done God’s work as a soldier.” Nace replied, “Wankers were using children as soldiers. And I shot one of them. That I do regret...”
---
Democratic Republic of the Congo
1998
Put the bloody rifle down...Nace was practically screaming in his head, despite his face sporting a neutral and calm expression.
The crosshairs of the Steyr were aimed at a skinny youth clad half in camouflage fatigues with a knockoff sports jersey. In the lad's hands was an AK-47 rifle, and he woe combat webbing with three more AK magazines.
He had dug them up from a cache in the abandoned farm that Nace's team had been watching for several days. They had confirmed that the the farmhouse was where this particular group of fighters had been staging increasingly brazen attacks.
Now they were about to get the tables turned on them. From another direction a patrol of other operators from 4 Recce Regiment were moving silently towards the farm.
"I've got the bloke with the RPG." Krueger said from just behind Nace and to the left.
"The one with the folding stock AK and the cigarette on stag (sentry duty) is mine." Lance Corporal Ajay Shah said to Nace's right.
Bloody hell, he's a sodding kid. Part of Nace's mind screamed about his target. For the fifth time in what felt like hour long intervals he shoved the thought of the lad's closeness in age to his youngest brother who was but twelve.
"In position." Came a whisper in Nace's radio headset.
"Right. Nace, we're firing on your shot." Krueger said.
Right. Can't sodding hesitate or others will die if I bollocks this up. Nace thought.
Nace took in air, centering his shot slightly below the boy's nose. 450 meters. I can easily make this shot. The round will kill instantly, severing the brain stem from the spinal column. Should be almost no pain...
Pressing the trigger slowly, feeling the rifle buck. Thanks to the suppressor fitted to the Steyr the report was barely a thump. He saw the lad's head pitch backward as he dropped the AK he was carrying and fell into the damp mud of the compound.
And almost instantly Krueger and Shah fired their own rifles, dropping their respective targets.
Like wraiths appearing from the jungle dawn the other South African Special Forces operators slipped into the farm and with silenced weapons dispatched several other fighters they found lurking in the compound.
Resquiat Im Pace. Nace thought to himself.
---
Johannesburg, South Africa
December 24, 1998
“Angels we have heard on high. Sweetly singing o’er the plains. And the mountains in reply. Echoing their glorious strains.”
Nace Bilby stood on the balcony of the second story of his parents’ home in Johannesburg, listening to Christmas carolers singing on their block as he did so.
He could hear his sister, Rey’s, footsteps as she stepped up the stairs, to the upstairs hallway behind the balcony.
"Nace, mum's looking for you." Rey said.
"I'll be right down, Rey." Nace said curtly to his oldest sister.
"Nace, what's the matter? You've barely said two words to anyone since you've been home." Rey said.“Is everything alright, Nace?” Rey asked her younger brother, “You’ve been home for two days but you’ve barely said a word to anyone.”
“Just tired from the trip from Langebaan.” Nace replied, referring to the harbor where 4 Recce Regiment was based on the Atlantic coast of South Africa, “Bloody flight nearly all the way across South Africa had me tired.”
“Nace,” Rey said, “Everyone’s worried.”
“Gloria, in excelsis Deo! Gloria, in excelsis Deo!”
“I’ll be fine.” Nace replied, recognizing the strains of the singing carolers included his younger sister Danielle and his youngest brother, David.”
“Rey,” a calm, yet commanding male voice said, “let me deal with this, love. Go help Mum in the kitchen.”
Nace saw his father coming up the stairs to the balcony with a case of beer under his arm.
“Mum might be somewhat irate with me for carting this up here on Christmas Eve.” Senior Chief Warrant Officer Jason Bilby said as he headed up the staircase.
“Hey Dad.” Nace said.
“I agree with Rey,” Jason replied, without preamble, “Everyone’s been worried since you’ve come home.”
“I wonder if I made the right choice to become a sniper.” Nace replied, absently fiddling with two brass casings in his pocket. Both casings had held the bullets that killed Kantorek and the young Congolese fighter respectively.
“You can always request transfer from the Regiment. Life in Special Forces isn’t meant for everyone.” Jason replied.
“I don’t want to leave the Regiment entirely, Dad.” Nace replied, “I enjoy being Special Forces. I’m considering moving my specialty to EOD.”
“Alright, what prompted the move?” Jason asked.
“Shepherds, why this jubilee? Why your joyous strains prolong? What the gladsome tidings be? Which inspire your heavenly song?”
“I shot a bloody kid.” Nace replied, “One of those child soldiers that keeps turning up on the news.”
“Hate to say this, son.” Jason replied, “But if the shoe on the other foot, he wouldn’t have regretted shooting you.”
“I know that.” Nace replied, “But I can’t help but remember the lad was practically David’s age.”
“Gloria, in excelsis Deo! Gloria, in excelsis Deo!”
Nace blinked as his father handed him a can of beer before opening one of his own to drink. “The lad was misguided, and now he faces the harsh judgment of Minos for the bad choice he made.”
“The blokes we fight don’t hesitate to recruit kids to do their dirty work.” Jason agreed, taking a pull of his beer.
“Come to Bethlehem and see. Christ Whose birth the angels sing; Come, adore on bended knee, Christ, the Lord, the newborn King.”
“This is true.” Nace replied, producing the cartridges from his pocket, “Strange, in the case of the first of these rounds I don’t regret punching the man’s ticket to the nearshore of Acheron. But this other one, I pray for clemency for.”
“War is hell.” Jason replied, “Bollocks to calling what’s going on in the Congo a sodding peacekeeping action or whatever klankie politically correct words they use these days.”
Nace took a pull of his own beer, “Kantorek was a bloody murderer and he frankly deserves the likely submersion in Phlegethon for what he did.”
“Gloria, in excelsis Deo! Gloria, in excelsis Deo!”
“I agree with that.” Jason replied, taking a pull of beer. After finishing that can and crushing it, he took another one from the case.
Nace finished his own beer, and took a second from the case, and took another drink.
“See Him in a manger laid, Jesus, Lord of heaven and earth; Mary, Joseph, lend your aid, With us sing our Savior's birth.”
Nace glanced over, spotting Danielle and David in the crowd of carollers, singing with their friends on the block.
“In some way I can’t help but wonder if I’m no better than Kantorek.” Nace replied.
“Certainly not. You didn’t relish killing the kid.” Jason countered.
“I did relish killing Kantorek, because he deserved it.” Nace replied, “I still remember when he shot three aid workers in the span of a day. That day more than ever I wanted to give him a third eyehole.”
“I understand exactly how you feel.” Jason replied. Thirty years of military service, a vast majority of it in Special Forces, gave him that perspective.
“Gloria, in excelsis Deo! Gloria, in excelsis Deo!”
“I don’t regret firing this round,” Nace held up one of the two casings in his hand, “this one to put Kantorek before King Minos.”
“But this one I know militarily it was the right thing to do. It enabled us to have a casualty free mission and the elimination of one troublesome band of enemy fighters.” Nace replied, holding up the other shell casing, “But recalling the one I shot was a sodding kid.”
“Killing is a burden we soldiers bear.” Jason replied, with a pull of his own beer, “The effects of it, I mean.”
“But the damndest thing, I realize I can now live with it.” Nace replied, “And now that I’ve decided to move from sniping to EOD, where I feel I can still do a lot of good and actually save lives, it’s become more bearable a burden.”
“Dad. Nace.” a voice came as twelve year old David Bilby walked up the stairs, “Mum says dinner’s ready.”
“We’re on our way.” Jason said.
Nace hugged his kid brother and said, “I’ve missed the lot of you since I’ve been gone. It's good to be home.”
(Warning: Rated PG-13 for disturbing themes, language, and war violence.)
Geary Courtyard
San Francisco, CA
United States of America
2004 (Retro timeline)
Nace Bilby was busy with the routine of moving into his apartment building. His latest item he was carrying up to his apartment was a Yugoslavian M76 rifle.
Externally resembling an AKM-47 rifle with a long barrel and a telescopic sight, mechanically it was nothing like its infamous cousin. It was chambered in 7.92x57mm Mauser, with a semi-automatic action and sporting ten round magazines. The rifle sported a heavy telescopic sight, variable powered to allow for adjusting for different ranges. What looked to be a Serbian coat of arms was visible on the stock, which was splintered near the top, where a bullet had grazed over the top before striking the rifle’s past owner.
After hearing what sounded like someone moving in next door to him, Jason West decided he would step out to see if he could lend a hand with moving things in. As he pulled the door closed, he bumped into a man carrying what he recognized as an M76 rifle.
“Sorry about that sir. Nice rifle. I haven’t seen one of those in ages. The name is Jason West and what might yours be?” Jason asked.
“Nace Bilby. Pleasure to meet you.” Nace replied with his British accent as he put out his hand for a handshake.
“What brings you to San Francisco, Nace?” Jason asked while shaking Nace’s hand.
“I’ve been sent to ACME by the South African National Defense Force as a guest instructor in firearms and EOD for their Junior Detective program. And you?”
“ACME has brought me on as a guest instructor for the technological portion of the Junior Detective program. I’m also well versed in weapons. If you need any help with your weapons classes, feel free to ask me. I brought most of my weapons along with me. I’m sure between the two of us, we’ll have plenty of unique weapon systems for them to learn on.”
"Right, I'll be more than willing to lend a hand." Nace replied, "My areas of expertise are various sniper rifles and the many Kalashnikov variants one can find floating around Africa."
---
Democratic Republic of the Congo
1998
The screaming of the wounded man, shot through the stomach melded with the keening wails of his wife who stood beside her wounded husband.
What the hell, Kantorek? An Olympic Medallist marksman and you fail to score a kill? Rifleman Nace Bilby thought as he scanned the town and the nearby jungle, searching for possible locations the shot could’ve come from.
For all of this deployment Nace and other snipers from 4 Special Forces Regiment, South African Special Forces Brigade, had been trying to hunt down a Serbian mercenary sniper named Kantorek. The locals as well as several of the United Nations Peacekeepers were very much in dread of the crosshairs of this former Yugoslav police counterterrorist sniper turned mercenary as he never missed a shot.
There’s no way you’re bloody ego is going to let you walk off from a miss. Nace thought as he watched and waited, hoping Kantorek would fire another shot.
Lance Corporal Jan Kreuger also scanned the area with the spotting telescope and his binoculars. The more experienced Special Forces operator whispered, “What do you imagine Kantorek’s targets are this week?”
“Last week it was women. The week earlier it was school children. And the week before clergy and aid workers.” Nace replied, trying to keep calm.
I hope you do fire again, wanker. Nace thought. Just let me give you a third eye and send you straight to the Phlegethon River where you’ll be boiled in blood.
“This time it looks like old men.” Kreuger remarked.
“And hopefully this time I give him a third eye.” Nace replied from behind the Steyr 669 sniper rifle.
“Oi, wind your neck in, Nace.” Kreuger said, coolly, “Looks like a patrol’s headed their way.”
There indeed was a patrol of some of the UN Peacekeeping contingent was heading their way. It was as they arrived at the scene that Kantorek fired again.
The shot tore into the wife’s skull just below her right eye, sending her falling to earth. The nearby medic had been splattered by the results of Kantorek’s shot.
“The three old houses near the treeline.” Kreuger said.
“Right.” Nace replied. Come on, wanker. Show yourself.
Kantorek fired a third shot. This one hit his original victim in the head. He’s got to be firing a semi-automatic. That’s a hell of a fast reacquisition of a target.
“Third house to the right.” Kreuger said.
“On it.” Nace replied, looking through the large hole in the roof. He saw a man perched atop the rafters, well back from the hole like a well trained sniper. But his face was pale and unshaven. And that gave him away.
Nace was all business now.
“Range, 978 meters.” Kreuger said.
“Right.” Nace said, adjusting his aimpoint. Squeezing the trigger with a slow and steady pressure and feeling the Steyer buck with the recoil. Hearing the report of the rifle. Then seeing Kantorek’s head pitch backward as the bullet punched through his torso, causing him to fall from the building rafters like a shotgunned bird.
Vae Victus. Nace thought. Suffering to the Conquered.
“**** you, Kantorek.” Nace said, simply as he worked the Steyr's bolt slowly and letting the spent brass eject slowly so he could catch it and stick it in his pocket. After all this hide might be useful again.
---
Langebaan, South Africa
1998
“Bless me Father for I have sinned.” Nace said as he sat in the confessional, “My sin is that of murder.”
“You are a soldier, my son.” the priest said.
“Yes, but I should not act with passion or hate in battle. I acted with both.” Nace began, “On this tour we were against a mercenary sniper, a Serb named Kantorek. He was a bloody murderer, a cruel bloke who just enjoyed shooting people like they were targets at a carnival booth.”
“I shot the man. And I don’t regret having done that. For this I sinned.” Nace replied.
“Do you believe that you were a soldier in a just war, Nace?” the priest replied.
“I do, Father. But an action where I shot a bloody kid does not feel like I’ve done God’s work as a soldier.” Nace replied, “Wankers were using children as soldiers. And I shot one of them. That I do regret...”
---
Democratic Republic of the Congo
1998
Put the bloody rifle down...Nace was practically screaming in his head, despite his face sporting a neutral and calm expression.
The crosshairs of the Steyr were aimed at a skinny youth clad half in camouflage fatigues with a knockoff sports jersey. In the lad's hands was an AK-47 rifle, and he woe combat webbing with three more AK magazines.
He had dug them up from a cache in the abandoned farm that Nace's team had been watching for several days. They had confirmed that the the farmhouse was where this particular group of fighters had been staging increasingly brazen attacks.
Now they were about to get the tables turned on them. From another direction a patrol of other operators from 4 Recce Regiment were moving silently towards the farm.
"I've got the bloke with the RPG." Krueger said from just behind Nace and to the left.
"The one with the folding stock AK and the cigarette on stag (sentry duty) is mine." Lance Corporal Ajay Shah said to Nace's right.
Bloody hell, he's a sodding kid. Part of Nace's mind screamed about his target. For the fifth time in what felt like hour long intervals he shoved the thought of the lad's closeness in age to his youngest brother who was but twelve.
"In position." Came a whisper in Nace's radio headset.
"Right. Nace, we're firing on your shot." Krueger said.
Right. Can't sodding hesitate or others will die if I bollocks this up. Nace thought.
Nace took in air, centering his shot slightly below the boy's nose. 450 meters. I can easily make this shot. The round will kill instantly, severing the brain stem from the spinal column. Should be almost no pain...
Pressing the trigger slowly, feeling the rifle buck. Thanks to the suppressor fitted to the Steyr the report was barely a thump. He saw the lad's head pitch backward as he dropped the AK he was carrying and fell into the damp mud of the compound.
And almost instantly Krueger and Shah fired their own rifles, dropping their respective targets.
Like wraiths appearing from the jungle dawn the other South African Special Forces operators slipped into the farm and with silenced weapons dispatched several other fighters they found lurking in the compound.
Resquiat Im Pace. Nace thought to himself.
---
Johannesburg, South Africa
December 24, 1998
“Angels we have heard on high. Sweetly singing o’er the plains. And the mountains in reply. Echoing their glorious strains.”
Nace Bilby stood on the balcony of the second story of his parents’ home in Johannesburg, listening to Christmas carolers singing on their block as he did so.
He could hear his sister, Rey’s, footsteps as she stepped up the stairs, to the upstairs hallway behind the balcony.
"Nace, mum's looking for you." Rey said.
"I'll be right down, Rey." Nace said curtly to his oldest sister.
"Nace, what's the matter? You've barely said two words to anyone since you've been home." Rey said.“Is everything alright, Nace?” Rey asked her younger brother, “You’ve been home for two days but you’ve barely said a word to anyone.”
“Just tired from the trip from Langebaan.” Nace replied, referring to the harbor where 4 Recce Regiment was based on the Atlantic coast of South Africa, “Bloody flight nearly all the way across South Africa had me tired.”
“Nace,” Rey said, “Everyone’s worried.”
“Gloria, in excelsis Deo! Gloria, in excelsis Deo!”
“I’ll be fine.” Nace replied, recognizing the strains of the singing carolers included his younger sister Danielle and his youngest brother, David.”
“Rey,” a calm, yet commanding male voice said, “let me deal with this, love. Go help Mum in the kitchen.”
Nace saw his father coming up the stairs to the balcony with a case of beer under his arm.
“Mum might be somewhat irate with me for carting this up here on Christmas Eve.” Senior Chief Warrant Officer Jason Bilby said as he headed up the staircase.
“Hey Dad.” Nace said.
“I agree with Rey,” Jason replied, without preamble, “Everyone’s been worried since you’ve come home.”
“I wonder if I made the right choice to become a sniper.” Nace replied, absently fiddling with two brass casings in his pocket. Both casings had held the bullets that killed Kantorek and the young Congolese fighter respectively.
“You can always request transfer from the Regiment. Life in Special Forces isn’t meant for everyone.” Jason replied.
“I don’t want to leave the Regiment entirely, Dad.” Nace replied, “I enjoy being Special Forces. I’m considering moving my specialty to EOD.”
“Alright, what prompted the move?” Jason asked.
“Shepherds, why this jubilee? Why your joyous strains prolong? What the gladsome tidings be? Which inspire your heavenly song?”
“I shot a bloody kid.” Nace replied, “One of those child soldiers that keeps turning up on the news.”
“Hate to say this, son.” Jason replied, “But if the shoe on the other foot, he wouldn’t have regretted shooting you.”
“I know that.” Nace replied, “But I can’t help but remember the lad was practically David’s age.”
“Gloria, in excelsis Deo! Gloria, in excelsis Deo!”
Nace blinked as his father handed him a can of beer before opening one of his own to drink. “The lad was misguided, and now he faces the harsh judgment of Minos for the bad choice he made.”
“The blokes we fight don’t hesitate to recruit kids to do their dirty work.” Jason agreed, taking a pull of his beer.
“Come to Bethlehem and see. Christ Whose birth the angels sing; Come, adore on bended knee, Christ, the Lord, the newborn King.”
“This is true.” Nace replied, producing the cartridges from his pocket, “Strange, in the case of the first of these rounds I don’t regret punching the man’s ticket to the nearshore of Acheron. But this other one, I pray for clemency for.”
“War is hell.” Jason replied, “Bollocks to calling what’s going on in the Congo a sodding peacekeeping action or whatever klankie politically correct words they use these days.”
Nace took a pull of his own beer, “Kantorek was a bloody murderer and he frankly deserves the likely submersion in Phlegethon for what he did.”
“Gloria, in excelsis Deo! Gloria, in excelsis Deo!”
“I agree with that.” Jason replied, taking a pull of beer. After finishing that can and crushing it, he took another one from the case.
Nace finished his own beer, and took a second from the case, and took another drink.
“See Him in a manger laid, Jesus, Lord of heaven and earth; Mary, Joseph, lend your aid, With us sing our Savior's birth.”
Nace glanced over, spotting Danielle and David in the crowd of carollers, singing with their friends on the block.
“In some way I can’t help but wonder if I’m no better than Kantorek.” Nace replied.
“Certainly not. You didn’t relish killing the kid.” Jason countered.
“I did relish killing Kantorek, because he deserved it.” Nace replied, “I still remember when he shot three aid workers in the span of a day. That day more than ever I wanted to give him a third eyehole.”
“I understand exactly how you feel.” Jason replied. Thirty years of military service, a vast majority of it in Special Forces, gave him that perspective.
“Gloria, in excelsis Deo! Gloria, in excelsis Deo!”
“I don’t regret firing this round,” Nace held up one of the two casings in his hand, “this one to put Kantorek before King Minos.”
“But this one I know militarily it was the right thing to do. It enabled us to have a casualty free mission and the elimination of one troublesome band of enemy fighters.” Nace replied, holding up the other shell casing, “But recalling the one I shot was a sodding kid.”
“Killing is a burden we soldiers bear.” Jason replied, with a pull of his own beer, “The effects of it, I mean.”
“But the damndest thing, I realize I can now live with it.” Nace replied, “And now that I’ve decided to move from sniping to EOD, where I feel I can still do a lot of good and actually save lives, it’s become more bearable a burden.”
“Dad. Nace.” a voice came as twelve year old David Bilby walked up the stairs, “Mum says dinner’s ready.”
“We’re on our way.” Jason said.
Nace hugged his kid brother and said, “I’ve missed the lot of you since I’ve been gone. It's good to be home.”
