American Sniper: The Last Round – Episode 13

📖 The Story Continues

American Sniper: The Last Round – Episode 13

“The handyman?” someone repeated, certain he had misunderstood Jane Valentine’s choice. Carl Oliver was not registered with the shooting club and had never competed under its name. To the team, sending him into the first round was not a gamble but an insult to every trained shooter standing nearby. Alex Westin’s face tightened with personal humiliation.

The complaints came quickly. Carl was good at polishing guns, they said, not firing them, and the range should be represented by its captain. Everything they owned and every job they depended upon now rested on the contest. One employee predicted Carl would panic before the first clay target even launched.

Jane heard the fear beneath their contempt. Only days earlier, she might have agreed with them, but she had watched Carl place three unaided shots in the center and defeat a B-Class shooter at his own challenge. Credentials mattered, yet evidence mattered more. She refused to withdraw his name merely because the choice made others uncomfortable.

Matthew Valentine laughed openly from the opposing side. He asked whether Jane was serious about sending a worthless nobody to defend her father’s legacy. His mockery spread through his entourage, where Carl’s work clothes appeared to confirm every insult. Matthew had expected desperation; he had not expected it to look this entertaining.

Nate Foster was less amused. He had not traveled to compete against maintenance staff, and facing Carl felt beneath the reputation he had built. Still, an easy victory would secure the first round and satisfy the man paying him. He waited with the patience of a professional certain the contest would end quickly.

Matthew warned Jane that Nate was only his warm-up. Somewhere behind him waited an ace more dangerous than the one-eyed specialist who had defeated A-Class shooters. The information unsettled Jane’s team further. If Nate represented Matthew’s weakest option, losing the first round could become the beginning of an impossible sweep.

Matthew’s supporters invented an explanation for Jane’s decision. By sending a handyman first, she could blame the loss on an unofficial contestant rather than admit her professionals were inferior. The theory made her choice look cowardly instead of strategic. Alex listened, wounded that strangers believed Jane trusted an excuse more than her captain.

Matthew invoked Lewis again, saying it was fortunate Jane’s father was not alive to watch her run his shooting range into the ground. Jane absorbed the insult without looking away. Grief urged her to defend Lewis with anger, but the competition demanded something harder: judgment under pressure. She would not let Matthew control her decisions through shame.

Carl stood beside the weapon table while both teams argued about him as though he were absent. Mockery had followed him throughout the year because silence encouraged people to invent weakness. He could bear it. What mattered was whether Jane believed enough to let him protect the place Lewis loved.

She finally turned to him and asked, “Will you shoot for us?” The wording mattered. Jane did not order an employee into danger or use him as a disposable test. She asked for his choice, acknowledging that whatever skill he possessed belonged to a life she did not understand.

Before Carl answered, Alex stepped forward and begged Jane to let the captain handle the round. His pride had become urgency now that the property was at stake. He believed experience entitled him to the responsibility. More deeply, he feared that Carl might succeed and expose how little rank meant beside true mastery.

Jane told the team to stop complaining and watch Nate’s every movement. They needed to understand the level of Matthew’s competitors before committing the rest of their lineup. Her explanation was practical, but it did not fully reveal her instinct. Carl was not merely a sacrifice; he was the one shooter Matthew had not prepared to face.

Alex misunderstood. He decided Jane considered Nate too insignificant for her best shooter and had selected Carl only to preserve the captain for later. The interpretation restored his ego enough to quiet him. He smirked at Carl, convinced the handyman mistook strategic disposal for trust.

Carl accepted Jane’s request with a nod. He did not promise victory or explain his training. He simply stepped into the contestant area and began inspecting the available weapons. The economy of his movements made Chris Redford study him again.

Chris had observed elite shooters who advertised confidence through elaborate routines. Carl did the opposite. He checked each mechanism once, absorbed its balance, and moved on without flourish. The coach sensed that the man’s silence came from experience rather than uncertainty, though the memory behind that impression remained frustratingly distant.

Rebecca called encouragement from beside Jane. Her faith embarrassed the adults who had chosen doubt, but Carl allowed himself a brief smile. Lewis had wanted to spend retirement teaching his grandchild at this range. Carl could not restore that future, yet he could make sure Matthew did not erase the place where it might have happened.

Nate told Carl not to waste his time. Every word treated the result as settled, but Carl had faced more disciplined opponents than a boastful competition shooter. He observed Nate’s dominant hand, depth adjustments, and the way he compensated for the missing eye. The cowboy was dangerous, particularly within his specialty, but danger was not invincibility.

Jane’s confidence wavered as the competitors prepared. Choosing Carl had felt correct when she remembered the bull’s-eyes; listening to the entire range condemn her made that memory seem fragile. She searched his face for reassurance. His calm gave her none of the promises she wanted, only the sense that he had done this before.

Matthew leaned toward his men and joked that the loser probably believed Jane trusted him. Laughter followed, but Carl did not turn. He had never needed Jane to know the full truth in order to keep his vow. Her willingness to give him this chance was enough.

Chris called for the weapon selection to begin. Nate walked toward the rack with the swagger of a champion, while Carl approached in silence beneath the weight of two teams’ ridicule. Jane had chosen the mystery over the captain, and there was no longer any way to conceal the consequences. The first weapon Carl touched would reveal whether her faith was insight—or the mistake that cost her everything.