Ms. Reynolds shifted her attention to Chloe. “‘Old and slow’?”
Chloe withered under the instructor’s gaze.
Kira responded. “Look, Ms. Reynolds, we’re six to eight years older than most of those guys, and, you know, reflexes . . .”
A smile played across the older woman’s face. “Let me show you something.”
She put on the gun belt, tapped a command into the control panel, and held her hand out. Kira placed the pistol in it—the weapon’s eleven-inch barrel pointing at the floor and its single-shot break action open. Kira waited while the instructor inspected the pistol, then handed her a carrier with ten bullets. Ms. Reynolds placed the carrier within easy reach of the firing line, put on her ear protectors and signaled for Kira and Chloe to do the same. Once assured everyone had protection in place, Ms. Reynolds stepped up to the firing line with her pistol loaded and holstered.
The drill signal sounded, pitched to the same range as normal speech so the noise-canceling ear protectors would allow it to pass. The instructor’s arms became a blur, fully visible only when she reached final firing position. The gun barked. With a smooth, unhurried, almost mechanical motion she removed the casing, reloaded the pistol, and returned to the ready position. She repeated the exercise until she used the carrier’s last bullet. The ceiling vent sucked away final wisps of gun smoke and a hologram displayed her results—an average of 1.97 seconds from draw to hit, the hits all within the solid black circle around the target’s heart.
Ms. Reynolds placed the pistol on the safety stand and removed her hearing protection. “I’ve got seventeen years on either one of you.”
She unbuckled the gun belt and handed it to Chloe. “Your turn.”
Chloe adjusted the belt for her larger waist, loaded the weapon, and put her ear protection back in place. She stepped up to the firing line with the gun in her holster and her hands at the ready position.
Diana’s voice was curiously soothing. “This is baseline. Show me where you are so we know what to work on, OK?”
Chloe nodded.
A chime announced the start of the exercise and a random interval later, the fire signal sounded. Chloe responded with a smooth draw and a shot at the target.
Chloe dropped the gun to waist level, broke the action open, yanked the casing out, and tossed it toward the case bin. She missed. While she scrambled to retrieve the errant bit of metal, Diana made a clucking noise and shook her head. “Relax, relax, relax. The timer stops when you hit the target. It doesn’t start again until you draw. On reload, just be fast enough not to irritate people waiting their turn.”
Chloe huffed, mumbled something . . . but did relax a bit and reloaded smoothly.
Chloe ran through the ten rounds in her rack, and Diana ended the exercise. The display awarded her an average time of 2.53 seconds, the hits in a random pattern all over the target’s chest area and two clean misses.
Diana studied the pattern in silence for a few seconds before addressing Chloe. “Not bad, but when do you put your finger inside the trigger guard?”
Chloe paused before she replied. “When I bring the gun up, I guess. I’m trying—”
“You’re missing.” Diana held her hand out, index finger extended. “Your finger stays outside the guard until the sights have stabilized on what you want to hit.” Diana folded the extended finger into her hand.
Chloe bit her lip. “But the speed . . .”
“You only get one shot. The worst thing you can do is waste it. ‘Don’t point the gun at anything you don’t want to destroy; don’t touch the trigger until you know what you’ll hit.’”
At Diana’s recitation of the training maxims, Chloe bowed her head and let her shoulders droop. “Yes, ma’am.”
Diana’s voice softened. “Don’t worry about speed. Worry about form. Get the movements right and speed will come.”
Chloe set the gun on the stand, released the gun belt, and handed it to Kira.
Diana tapped something into the command console and offered no further comment.
Kira stepped up to the line, ear protectors in place and the gun heavy on her thigh. She drew a deep breath and focused, shutting out both her fear and the weight of Diana’s gaze.
“Try a wider stance.”
Kira obeyed. By the time the chime announced the exercise’s start, Kira’s world included nothing except the gun and the target. At the draw signal, her right hand found the weapon and extracted it from the holster, meeting her left at waist level. Her thumb flicked off the safety as she raised her arms, and when she had a clear view of the sights and the target, she squeezed the trigger. She reloaded and continued the exercise, repeating the actions while holding everything else behind a haze of inattention. It would all be there when she was done. When the casing from the last bullet hit the bin, Diana called a halt.
The hologram scoreboard gave Kira an average time of 2.39 seconds, but her hits fell in a tight pattern, most of them in the darkest three circles near the target’s heart.
“Nice job. You’re pulling a little left; allow for that next time.”
Kira turned away from the display and faced Diana. “OK. Thanks.”
The instructor’s attention remained on the control panel. “You two have class at eight?”
Kira and Chloe nodded.
Diana looked up. “That’s a yes?”
Kira and Chloe stumbled over each other’s affirmative responses.
“OK, that’s it. Clean the pistol and put the brass in the box.”
Kira ran a cleaning rag through the pistol barrel while Chloe fetched the case bin.
“It’s two weeks until the evaluation. Can you two meet me in the lobby of this building at six every morning from now until then?”
Kira’s chest became light. “Sure!” She picked up the box. “Do we need to bring—”
“No, I’ll take care of it.” Diana held out her hands. “You two get to class. I’ll take this back to Pete.”
The lightness disappeared. “Is Pete going to get in trouble?”
Diana looked as if Kira had told a joke only Diana understood. “No. Shaking down trainees for beer money is minor. But he needs to know somebody’s paying attention.”
Slowly, Kira surrendered the box.
With the container in her custody, Diana added. “Pete won’t deal with you in an ‘unofficial’ capacity again, and neither will anyone he knows. But that won’t be a problem for you.”
“Why not?” Chloe blurted.
Once more, Diana produced the joke-that-only-she-got smile. “Because now, you know me.”
Chapter 6
Kira emerges from the scanner onto the dueling field. She stops, absorbing the vastness, her isolation, and the silence. As always, it feels like an empty theater that will never fill.
Diana arrives, a pillar of calm. Her uniform is nearly identical to Kira’s, except for the large TKC logo on the front, rather than the shoulders. Since no one is shooting at Diana, there’s no danger of it becoming a target. Kira flashes her hand signs, indicating her readiness and her estimate of Niles’s preparedness. Diana flashes hers in return. Field OK. Expected second.