American Sniper: The Last Round – Episode 12

📖 The Story Continues

American Sniper: The Last Round – Episode 12

Chris Redford established a best-of-three format while both teams gathered around the firing area. The first round would be trap shooting, a test of speed, reaction, and accuracy against moving clay targets. Fifteen pigeons would be launched, and each contestant would receive exactly fifteen bullets. A single mistake could decide the round.

Competitors could choose any available weapon. The winner would be the shooter who struck the most targets in the least amount of time, forcing them to balance accuracy against aggression. Chris repeated that all firearms and ammunition would be inspected. Matthew Valentine agreed with the confidence of someone who had selected his first fighter specifically for these rules.

Alex Westin relaxed when he heard the event. He had once held a state trap-shooting record and believed the first round belonged to Jane’s team. His teammates congratulated him before he had even stepped forward. After the humiliation of his jammed rifle, the contest seemed to offer him a clean return to authority.

Then Matthew’s competitor entered wearing the weathered confidence of a one-eyed cowboy. Recognition spread through Jane’s team in alarmed whispers. Nate Foster held only a B-Class ranking, but the classification concealed how dangerous he was within his specialty. Trap shooting had built his reputation.

One employee dismissed Nate as a cowboy, asking why anyone should be afraid. Jane knew better than to judge by appearance. Nate had twice defeated A-Class gunmen in clay-pigeon competition, an achievement few B-Class shooters could claim. His missing eye had not stopped him from mastering moving targets.

Alex insisted the round should be his. His state record and professional experience made him the obvious choice, and the others agreed that he would win. Jane listened while studying Nate’s posture and Matthew’s satisfied expression. Sending her strongest known shooter immediately might give her no information about what else Matthew had prepared.

Matthew described Nate as little more than a warm-up. The remark could have been psychological warfare, but Jane suspected it also contained truth. If the first competitor could defeat A-Class specialists, the later rounds might be worse. She needed to learn the level of Matthew’s team without exhausting her own options.

Her gaze moved to Carl Oliver. He stood outside the cluster of ranked shooters, calm beneath the contempt still directed at him. Carl had defeated Benny’s assembly speed, repaired Alex’s rifle in seconds, and placed three rounds in the center without a scope. No certificate explained those skills.

Jane understood the risk. If Carl’s earlier performance had been luck, sending him against Nate would sacrifice the first round. If it had not been luck, he might be the only person present whose limits Matthew had not calculated. An unknown weapon was sometimes more valuable than the strongest visible one.

Alex continued explaining how he would approach the targets, already assuming the position belonged to him. Jane interrupted and told the team they might use the opening round to test the opposition. The suggestion drew immediate resistance. With the range at stake, no one wanted to hear the word test.

Carl met Jane’s eyes and understood before she spoke. She was not certain he could win, but she was finally willing to trust the evidence of her own observations. That trust brought him closer to a truth he had avoided. Competing would make continued anonymity almost impossible.

Nate examined the weapon rack with practiced indifference. He seemed bored by Alex’s state record and amused by the nervous discussion across the room. Matthew had promised him an easy victory against local shooters. Nothing he saw had challenged that expectation.

Rebecca stood near her mother and watched Carl rather than the famous cowboy. For her, official rankings meant nothing beside the memory of Carl saving them. She gave him a small smile. Carl thought of Lewis and the promise made in the rain.

Chris asked Jane to name her first contestant. The room quieted, and Alex stepped forward before receiving permission. He carried himself as captain and expected Jane to confirm what everyone considered obvious. Even Matthew looked prepared to see him enter.

Jane hesitated only long enough to accept the consequences. If she chose Alex, she would follow credentials and preserve team harmony. If she chose Carl, she would stake the range on a mystery. Her father had taught her that a shooter must trust what she saw, not what fear insisted she see.

“Carl,” she said. “You’re up.” The name fell into a silence so complete that the machinery behind the lanes seemed loud. Alex turned toward her in disbelief. Matthew’s surprise quickly became laughter.

Carl stepped away from the wall without protest or celebration. He had known the decision was coming from the moment Jane studied him after the bull’s-eyes. Competing for glory would have violated the life he chose; competing for Lewis’s family did not. He accepted the responsibility with the same stillness he once carried into missions.

Alex demanded to know whether Jane was serious. Carl was not even an official member of the team, and the first round could determine whether they kept their jobs. Jane did not withdraw the selection. Her uncertainty remained, but changing her mind in front of Matthew would fracture the team completely.

Nate looked Carl over and laughed at the work clothes that identified him as maintenance staff. The legendary trap shooter had prepared to face Jane’s captain, not the man who polished guns after practice. He interpreted the choice as disrespect. Matthew interpreted it as surrender.

Chris called both contestants toward the weapon table. As Carl approached the waiting firearms, every member of Jane’s team questioned the decision that placed their future in his hands. Across from him, Nate smiled like a hunter who had been offered harmless prey. The first round had not begun, yet Carl was already surrounded by people certain he would lose.