The Local Politician

 The old man sat semi comfortably in the tree. He was holding his scoped 30-06 hunting rifle he had bought about 40 years ago. He had been on several hunting trips with this rifle. 

He never brought any game home with him. He spent most of his time at whatever camp he and the guys were in. Any game he did get he let his friends have, because he frankly didn't want to be bothered by it.

In 40 years of hunting he had drunk thousands of beers, downed hundreds of shots of whiskey, and told millions of tall stories around the campfire. 

But he had shot only one deer, and that was unfortunate. He learned on that hunting trip how little he cared for hunting.

But tonight was hunting of a different sort. He had managed to make his way to the tree about 2 am, and was rewarded in his efforts to be undetected. He managed to climb the tree without falling and breaking his fool neck.

The previous week he had taken the rifle to a local quarry he was able to target shoot at on a regular basis. He liked to shoot up to a thousand yards. He could hit the target at 500 yards on a regular basis, but past that he had to really concentrate if he wanted to get a hit on paper.

He had practiced last week only at 800 yards, because that was what his rangefinder had told him a few months back. He had purchased the thing used, and practiced with it. And when he came up with this plan, he had successfully climbed this tree without getting caught, and ranged the distance to the bedroom window he was interested in.

800 yards dead nuts on the money.

He hoped he could make the shot and get down the tree and get away without getting caught. He hoped that was the case, but he was prepared to deal with the consequences if he didn't. He thought it was time to put an end to the tyranny of this local politician.

This local politician was an asshole extraordinaire. There was not a speech he wouldn't make, nor a camera he would evade. He had authored tens and hundreds of unconstitutional laws in this county. And gotten most of them passed. The other county supervisors voted lockstep with him.That was alright, this guy was just going to be the first domino of six the old man was going to topple.

During his trips to the quarry, he had worked on a homemade suppressor for his rifle. He had gotten it to the point he thought the sound level might be reduced by half. He hoped so anyway.

The sun would be up in maybe fifteen minutes. The old man knew the local politician would get up at sunrise, open the bedroom window, stick his upper body out and stretch a little and get some fresh morning air.

That's when the old man would take him. At the quarry 9 times out of ten he had managed to hit the manshaped paper target right in the heart area. Area as in the hits might be 2 inches apart to as much as 10 inches apart. 

He didn't care that much. He figured a 150 grain full metal jacket bullet would do tremendous damage to the body no matter where it hit. And that would effectively terminate this politician. Even if he lived it would be a long road for him to come back to his office.

And that is what the old man wanted, was a termination to this idiots way of doing things.

He had the rifle at the ready, resting on a limb swaying slightly in the breeze. He hadn't counted on that, but he thought he could compensate. Then he noticed the window was opening.

Time to go to work.

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