The Gunny looked back at Jenkins. ‘It would appear that someone didn’t get the word that the war is over.’ ‘It would appear so, Gunny.’ ‘S...all we, Jenks?’ ‘You lead off?’ ‘Sure.’ The Gunny crept back the way they had come. At the far corner of the building he stopped. Slowly he pushed his rifle around the corner until the scope was pointing in the direction he felt the sniper was. Slowly, ever so slowly, he crept forward until he could look through his scope. Jenkins rose, removed his cover and. A wet rope hangs from the centre of the crossbeam, straight for a length, and then looped and knotted. Icy water drips from the braid, recent sleet white on the windward side of the hemp.A tall man in a black suit, covered by an impressive coat, stands beside the noose. His cold fingers inspect the rope, his face turning to the roadway as an open wagon rumbles into the area, and across the now swampy grass. His expression might be interesting, were his entire face not covered with a black mask.. More

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