Perfect.

My  comrade and I hid behind the concrete barriers as we watched the car drive up. Five men came out of the same door. My gun was lined but I didn't dare shoot. They chatted, getting out cigarettes. It wasn't the correct time to shoot yet, not yet. If I committed such a stupid act, I would've killed one man but the other four would come charging.

At the sound of a bomb, I would ready my gun. It would be lined perfectly to my target's forehead. I would hold my breath until the precise moment. The whiz of the bomb would stop just before the explosion would occur.. and a bullet would be shot.

One lies on the ground, blood spewing from his forehead while four continue their conversation, unaware of the death of their friend. Only four more.

Another bomb is fired, another shot is let out. Perfect.

Two lie on the ground, blood spewing from their foreheads while three continue their conversation, unaware of the death of their friends. Only three more.

A third bomb is fired, a third shot is let out. Flawless.

Three lie on the ground, blood spewing from their foreheads while two continue their conversation, unaware of the death of their friends. Only two more.

A bomb is fired, a shot is let out. Impeccable.

Four lie on the ground, blood spewing from their foreheads while one looks around, confused and scared. He sees his friends, the blood puddling under his feet. He is petrified. Only one more.

I stand up, line my gun to his forehead, take a short breath, and shoot. Elegant.

Five lie on the ground, blood slowing as it drips from their forehead while I continue my conversation with my comrade, very aware of the death of five friends.

Perfectly unnoticed.

Yours Truly,
    Vasily Zaytsev