Sowerbutt's Eyes

Both men thought they were invisible to any watchers, one was, one wasn’t. In the minutes before dawn, Gerhard had hidden himself in an allotment shed with a clear view of Wing-Commander Whittle’s front door down the street. Slowly, silently, he rested the barrel of the stripped-down Gewehr 98 on the ledge of the partially-open window. It was that movement when the rest of the street was perfectly still that caught Nero’s sharp eyes.
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