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The story begins as nighttime descends on Dublin. The Irish Civil War is underway, and the Republicans and the Free Staters are battling each other. Roars of heavy guns are concentrated around the Four Courts area, while sporadic bursts of rifle and machine gun fire are heard across the city.
A Republican sniper is stationed on a rooftop near the O’Connell Bridge. He eats a sandwich hungrily, his first meal since morning. He takes a sip of whiskey from his flask and risks a smoke. He lights a cigarette, inhales the smoke, and puts out the match. Suddenly, a bullet lands nearby. The sniper recognizes the danger, yet he takes another puff from his lit cigarette before putting it out. He peeps from the parapet to see where the bullet has come from and, instantly, another bullet zips past him. He sees that it comes from across the street, although the enemy sniper is well hidden on the rooftop.
An armored vehicle comes up the street and stops. An old lady approaches the vehicle and points in the Republican sniper’s direction. He realizes she is an informant. As she points, a man puts his head out of the turret of the vehicle. The sniper takes a shot and kills the man. He shoots again and kills the woman as she tries to escape, and she falls into the gutter.
The vehicle zooms out of sight with the dead man’s head hanging lifelessly over the turret. At the same time, the enemy sniper fires a bullet from across the street, hitting the Republican sniper. His rifle falls to the roof, clattering loudly. He swears and tries to recover his rifle, but he can’t lift it. His forearm is badly wounded, although he does not feel any pain at first. Instead, he feels numbness as if his limb is cut off. He rips open his sleeve with his knife to clean and dress the wound. There is a small hole where the bullet has entered his arm, but no exit wound. The bullet seems to have fractured his bone. The sniper struggles with pain and considers how he might escape.
The sniper takes off his cap, places it on his rifle, and pushes the rifle just above the parapet until the cap is visible from across the street. Immediately, the enemy sniper fires, and the bullet penetrates the top of the cap. The Republican sniper leans the rifle forward to let his cap fall to the street below. He drops the rifle to the street, letting his hand show on the parapet, and then slides it back slowly. Cautiously, he props himself up to peer across the street to see if the plan has worked. The enemy sniper stands up, thinking he has successfully killed his opponent.
The Republican sniper smiles at the successful ploy, ignores his pain, aims his revolver, and shoots at the enemy’s silhouette. The enemy sniper’s body falls to the street below with a thud.
As he watches his enemy fall, the sniper feels a sense of guilt and rising anger over the entire situation. He mutters to himself and throws his revolver to the ground, setting it off. The gunshot barely misses him, bringing him back to his senses. He takes out his flask and empties the whiskey in a single gulp. The drink turns him a bit reckless, so he decides to report the incident. He heads to the street and wonders if he knows his fallen enemy. The man had been a good shot, and they may have been in the same battalion before the army was divided. He leaves his position and rushes across the street to where his enemy’s body lies. He turns the man’s body over only to see his brother.
