Mosin-Nagant M1891 Sniper

MOSIN-NAGANT M1891 SNIPER. (See also, RIFLE, RUSSIAN FIREARMS) Scandal surrounded the Mosin-Nagant M1891 from its conception, and the addition of a sniper scope caused further legal problems. Closely following the release of the Mosin-Nagant M1891, the sniper version was released and immediately involved the firearms company in another legal battle, though in this case L on Nagant was not involved, but another contestant in the original weapon design contest who claimed the addition of the sniper scope was stolen from his own design. Unfortunately for his case, he was killed by a drunk bicyclist several days after filing his suit.

The Mosin-Nagant M1891 Sniper mirrors the design of the original weapon in all things, adding a sniper scope for increased accuracy over long distances.

Interview with John Victor
Author: F.W.B. Volunteer
Single sheets. Typewritten transcription. 8 x 11 in.
4/5

The rift created within gave me a glimpse of the Twins' location. I let the workshop burn. From it rose a greasy plume of smoke, cracks of lightning trapped within it. I left Duke awestruck and rode hard into the dawn. I crossed farmland and swamp as the sun wandered the sky.

I loved riding then, I had fine horses. I rode that day until a bank of cloud swept through, stripping the land of its color. I kept on driving that horse as the light waned. The wind picked up. Far slung rain drops heralded an oncoming storm. I rode on

The storm was in full force when I reached a low building, deep in the backwoods. A bolt of lightning burst a Cypress into flames, the flash blinded me, I was thrown from the horse by its force. It wasn't the first time I'd almost been struck. As the thunder peeled far above, I watched my horse bolt among the trees. I knew I had money for another yet. As I said, the days were going good. The tree still burned.

I walked the last half a mile and entered the dwelling, wind flaring the hearth into life. But, despite the fire, it was empty. They must have left in a hurry though, the walls were covered with weapons. A Hunter's arsenal. Maybe it was theirs, or they'd just purchased weapons here. A snake's tail disappeared under a table, every inch of its top covered with rifle parts. I didn't know better than to disturb it. I lifted one end, the barrel, springs, and levers clattered to the ground. There was nothing underneath. There was a fine rifle scope there which I took as my own. Among the papers, I saw something to my dismay. The Mark of the Night of the Hunter.

I stepped onto the porch. The storm raged on. In the distance, by the light of the burning tree, I saw the movement of dancers. Peering through the scope, I saw immediately their long pale cloaks. Powell was leading the chant. The fools had wandered into the storm, to celebrate the omen of a burning tree. I settled into a crouch, and prepared to take the first shot. The night proved to be long.