Mercenary’s War Chapter 1265: One Thousand Two Hundred Forty-Eight: The Snip

Chapter 1265: Chapter One Thousand Two Hundred Forty-Eight: The Sniper’s Nightmare

The area surrounding the St. Anton Ski Resort hosts several prestigious ski destinations, including St. Anton, Lech, and Zurs Ski Resort, which are interconnected. Visitors at any of these resorts can access the slopes of the other two.

Near the St. Anton Ski Resort, there are plenty of renowned luxury hotels, smaller resorts, and even a Michelin-starred restaurant. However, Ben Suhalton opted not to stay at a hotel but rather rented out an entire resort exclusively.

Strictly speaking, the resort where Ben Suharitan is staying cannot be considered part of the St. Anton Ski Resort. It’s in a location between several celebrated ski sites, boasting the highest altitude and the utmost level of luxury.

A cable car directly connects to Ben Suharitan’s resort. When driving vehicles beca impractical, Gao Yang and his two companions boarded a ski lift. While on the lift, Gao Yang and Rafael sat on one side, studying a map of the St. Anton Ski Resort’s slopes.

“The altitude here isn’t very high, but the resort we’re heading to is at around two thousand ters. To be specific, it’s closer to Lech Ski Resort. One side is a sheer cliff, while the other is a steep but sowhat low mountain crest. Assaulting the target head-on would be practically impossible.”

Rafael examined the topography using the map in his hands. After a brief glance, he patted Gao Yang, who was still focused on reviewing the map, and pointed to a resort on a mountain ridge. “Look over there. That’s a public area where you can directly reach by cable car. If we insist on a frontal assault, we’d need to start there and then ski our way to Suhart’s resort.”

Gao Yang scratched his head in frustration and remarked, “I don’t know how to ski. I even asked Big Dog, but he doesn’t know either. Although he’s accustod to cold-weather operations, he isn’t suited for high-altitude combat in sub-zero conditions. Fork, if we can’t ski, can we even operate here?”

Rafael had recently started going by the nickna “Skunk,” but during casual monts, Gao Yang still called him “Fork” out of habit, despite planning to exclusively use “Skunk” during operations.

Rafael shrugged helplessly. “Boss, are you joking? Even the thinnest layers of snow here are at least one ter deep and consist of soft powder. Without skis, you can’t even move an inch.”

Gao Yang shook his head, responding, “It’s currently the ski season. Carrying weapons while taking a cable car isn’t realistic. If we choose to travel on foot, the area is crowded, and pathways are limited. We’d be forced to traverse routes densely packed with hotels and chalets, making infiltration feasible only at night. Damn it! None of us can ski, which ans that rely approaching the target will be near impossible.”

Rafael puckered his lips and countered, “Not near impossible—completely impossible, Boss. Believe , without skis, there’s no way we can get close to the target point. This isn’t sothing effort alone can overco.”

After a few exasperated sighs, Gao Yang suddenly asked, “Does this altitude affect ballistics?”

“Absolutely, it does. The air here is thinner, which would make the point of impact higher. Additionally, mountain winds are problematic to gauge, and the snow itself could influence your aim.”

Gao Yang rubbed his chin and asked reluctantly, “I suppose you don’t happen to know the mountain ballistic chart for 7.62 NATO rounds, do you?”

“You guessed right.”

High-altitude operations are exceptionally challenging, particularly for marksn and snipers. Ballistic charts used for low-altitude areas are rendered ineffective here. With increasing altitude and changing atmospheric pressure, bullet trajectories undergo continual adjustnts. High-altitude plains are manageable compared to mountainous terrains where altitudes shift constantly—this is every sniper’s nightmare.

Gao Yang’s primary ammunition consists of high-speed, long-range rounds, which already deviate significantly from standard 7.62 NATO rounds. Unless he devises an entirely new ballistic chart tailored for use in mountainous terrain, switching back to conventional 7.62 NATO rounds would be more practical.

If Gao Yang decides to use 7.62 NATO rounds, he may not possess the ballistic chart now, but he could acquire it. Mountain units from France, Italy, or Austria have highly comprehensive charts for such terrains. Although these charts are classified military data, obtaining them would require only a modest effort. For instance, Eileen’s father could likely procure one in no ti, or Justin or soone else could secure it with money.

Gao Yang spread his hands and asked, “Can you recite the 5.56mm caliber ballistic chart by mory?”

Rafael chuckled bitterly. “Boss, I left mountain units years ago, and I’m not even a sniper. Why would I morize ballistic charts? When I’m at certain altitudes, shooting becos instinctive for . But asking to articulate the data—sorry, I can’t do that.”

Gao Yang waved dismissively. “I’ll look for the mountain ballistic chart later. Which country’s mountain units do you think are the best—Italy? France? Austria? Or Switzerland?”

Rafael shrugged and answered, “Anything but France. French units are useless—their army and mountain units alike. They don’t know how to fight, and their ballistic charts are equally unreliable.”

Gao Yang smirked silently. Although Rafael disparaged France, basic military protocols for generating ballistic charts were unlikely to be compromised. Still, much like the rivalry between Britain and France, Italy and France loved seizing any chance to mock each other.

At that mont, Krulney chid in, “We’re almost there. Do you see that resort? That’s the one.”

Gao Yang imdiately urged, “Quick, take photos.”

Rafael raised the cara and began snapping continuous shots. Being in the higher position afforded by the cable car gave them an unhindered view, perfect for docunting the necessary visuals.

Gao Yang surveyed the terrain, noting several vantage points that offered optimal views of the resort—a habit entrenched in his role as a marksman and sniper. Spotting good shooting positions had beco second nature to him.

Rafael put away the cara and comnted, “Done. I’ll check the snow conditions later, although I’m betting it remains powdery rather than hard-packed frozen snow, which would’ve made things easier.”

Gao Yang pressed his watch and asked quietly, “What’s the altitude now?”

“2133 ters.”

“2135 ters. The difference is negligible. Using your estimation, see that mountain with a pine tree over there? What’s the approximate altitude?”

“What are you planning? Setting up a shooting position there?”

“Exactly. Position Rabbit there to oversee the entire resort.”

“Forget it. That spot’s no good.”

“Why not?”

“Snow avalanche. Firing a shot will trigger an avalanche for sure.”

“I understand sound triggers avalanches, but the slope there doesn’t seem steep. Surely it’s workable?”

“Slope steepness isn’t the main concern. It matters, yes, but the issue is that the spot itself is poor. There won’t be much snow falling from above, but the threat cos from below. Once an avalanche starts, it’ll drag you all the way down. Even if you cling to the tree and avoid sliding off, you’d still be immobilized, buried under the snow.”

The cable car neared its endpoint, prompting Gao Yang to ask urgently, “Forget that. Where can we fire safely?”

“There. See that ridgeline? Shooting from there prevents noise buildup, minimizes avalanche risk, and ensures an open retreat path even if the snow does give way.”

Gao Yang and Rafael continued observing the terrain thoroughly. They had no intention of hiding their purpose from Krulney as the two debated assault strategies on a prominent resort. Even though they planned for Number Thirteen to resolve the matter ultimately, conducting reconnaissance was nonnegotiable.

Krulney chuckled helplessly and interjected, “Gentlen, we’ve arrived. You might want to save these discussions for later.”

Gao Yang spread his hands. “Alright, boss. Let’s follow your lead now.”

The cable car reached its terminus—a line servicing only Suhart’s resort—with no other skiers using this route.

After stepping off, they made a short walk to the resort. It wasn’t very large, featuring only seven buildings perched on a platform extending off a mountain cliff. One side opened to a sheer drop, while the other faced a relatively low summit.

Although the resort appeared precariously situated, it was engineered for safety, turning such dramatic landscapes into an irresistible draw for the wealthiest clientele.

One glance at the positioning of the buildings was enough for Gao Yang to deduce where Suhart would be staying—surely the house closest to the cliff edge. This wasn’t the largest building but undoubtedly the most lavish, offering sweeping views of the whole valley. The other structures seed positioned like satellites encircling this centerpiece. If Suhart didn’t choose that pri location, he’d have no reason to rent out the entire resort in the first place.

The three proceeded toward the resort. Without gates or fences, security relied solely on the personnel stationed around the property. Four individuals stood outside clad in thick ski gear, two of whom stepped forward upon spotting Gao Yang and the group.

Though dressed for the cold, they wore checkered keffiyehs, making their affiliations evident. Their apparel concealed weapons, but it was apparent they weren’t carrying rifles.

“Stop. This is private property. If you’re just tourists, please leave.”

Krulney took a step forward and replied calmly, “My na is Krulney. I was invited here. These two are my entourage.”

One guard raised a walkie-talkie, murmured briefly, then motioned affirmatively. “Follow .”