Chapter 31

‘Bang, Bang.’

Someone was really pounding the door. I hopped up and opened the door ready for about anything. Our tour guide was standing there with a grin, and said, “I love to get your attention like that. Make sure that you have a lot of beer in the chow hall tonight so that you’ll be hard to wake up in the morning. I can really raise hell then.”

Fran was laughing and said to the guy, “What are you, a DI wannabe?”

The man asked, “Do you need anything before we go to the range?”

I said, “Covers or you might call them hats. We both want Boonies if you have them, or utility covers if that’s your uniform.”

“You can wear either or nothing, except that you’ll want something to wear outside if you are doing something out there. Let’s go to supply. That guy just loves to dribble stuff out. He likes the company.”

The supply guy gave us each three boonies and two utility covers. He gave us each a baseball cap as well, but it was a sort of funky color that really didn’t go with the BDUs. He said that he forgot to give me some workout clothes, and gave me a couple pair of sports shorts, some white socks, and a pair of tennis shoes. I thanked him, but Fran said, “You only gave me a single pair of shorts, no cotton socks, and no tennis shoes.”

The supply guy looked at his notes and smiled. He pulled a basket out and pushed it to her. “I like to have people come visit me, and this is the only way to do that. Come say hi sometime.”

We went back to the room to put the clothes in the drawers and found that the beds had been changed during that short time, even though we had made the beds. Everything was perfectly clean and neat.

Our guide asked if we would need a snack before supper. He told us that we could eat as soon as the range officer was through with us after our introduction. He also said the chow hall had food twenty-four hours a day.

The range officer was a pleasant man, and stated, “Your boss, Chuck Johnson, is a special marksman. He told me to watch you and see if I can make you as good as he is. He did a lot of sniper duty. What would qualify you to be a good marksman?”

He went on, “I see you were part of the new covert ops group, did the six months training, and went on three missions as the lead sniper,” when I didn’t answer right away. “I’ll be interested to watch you shoot. You had some remarkable scores in the Deputy school, Miss Cunningham. I think I need to teach you some spotting skills to go along with your shooting.”

The man had a couple Glock 22s lying on his table. He said, “Who wants to be first at twenty-five yards?”

I looked at Fran, and she stepped forward. Fran cycled the slide a couple of times, held the receiver open, and looked in the barrel. She said, “How about I clean this thing first. I shoot better with a clean weapon.”

The man smiled, and said, “That’s one point for you. You might as well clean yours too, Chuck, as it’s filthy as well.”

I pulled the gun apart and saw that the barrel was pretty nicked up around the nose. It might even be bad enough to throw a round off even at twenty-five yards. I was about to say something when Fran said, “This spring is older than I am, or at least it has seen that much use. This gun’s a mess. Are these here to just scare us, or what?”

I said, “Hey, it’s what she says. This piece is total junk. I don’t think there’s much on it that’s usable. The frame is even beat up. I’d suspect the firing pin is bad as well.”

The said, “Good soldiers. Put the guns back together, and I’ll use them on the next unsuspecting newbies.”

He pulled two boxes from this equipment drawer and laid them on the firing stations. I went for the boxes and handed one to Fran as I sat at the cleaning table. I think the rangemaster was trying to sucker us into firing the guns without checking them out and cleaning a new weapon. If Fran didn’t know to do that, she did now.

The officer said, “You two sure are picky, you don’t even trust a new weapon straight out of the box.”

I pointed to the box, and showed him that the box looked as if it had been opened a lot. I asked, “Do you check serial numbers that often?”

He shook his head. “Just what I need: a couple of picky jarheads. Give those back. They’re junk too. The man pulled two boxes from the next drawer down and handed them to us. He asked us to verify that the serial numbers corresponded to the number on the box and to give him the last four numbers. He made a note at a couple locations on his sheet. This was a good gun and was new. It was easy to clean and the parts all worked the way they should. I asked the rangemaster for some magazine sandpaper and emery cloth and he pulled out a piece of each. I sanded the magazine then used some emery cloth to smooth it out even more. I wiped the magazine with a slightly oiled paper towel and slid it in and out of the handle several times. I repeated the action with Fran’s magazine, and then handed it back to her. The rangemaster said, “Have you worked with guns much?”

“My dad used to take me shooting a lot, and he loved new guns. He showed me how to check them out when they were new. He told me that he had never seen many magazines that couldn’t use some sanding and an emery cloth polish. I want this gun to operate as smooth as can be if it’s going to be my friend. I’ll teach Fran while I do this stuff.”

He asked, “Do you want to do some shooting, or would you rather clean your other weapons too?”

Fran said, “We get more? Show us. We’ll clean those too.”

The rangemaster laughed, and said, “Spoken like a true enthusiast. Let me give you our version of a collapsible MP5. This is a great weapon to have if you’re carrying something like a fifty caliber. You can have a dependable short-barreled rifle that can be used close up while you still have the fifty available. It works the same way with your .308 too. Let me give you two new ones and see if you can take them apart. Marines should be able to because some of their ops people use these.”

Fran smiled at me knowing my background. I took mine apart and showed Fran how easy it was. She was amazed that it was easier than her M4 rifle which she originally used in training. I showed her the weak points that, if not corrected, could cause jams down the road. We had not worked on this problem with the MP5’s we had picked up at the arming station before we went to help free some captives. I asked for a couple of sizes of files and showed her what to do. It was easy to file off a little nub that was left on every one of these rifles I had seen. We polished it off and tried the action and it was smooth as silk. The rangemaster brought another of the fold up MP5s and a camera out. I took it apart and he photographed the part I had filed. I used a pencil to point out the tiny nub. I showed the rangemaster how the action caught right there every time. I did the filing and polishing, and used the pencil to point out the same place so he could take pictures again. The action was as smooth as silk after a drop of oil.

I told the rangemaster, “That’s what makes the AK such a decent weapon. Well, that and the chromed receiver and the avoidance of tight fits where tight fits aren’t required. The parts slide together smoothly and you can instantly feel what isn’t right. I’ve seen men use hammers to smooth parts out, and then go right out to fight. Our weapons are a little more intricate.”

We were given an awesome .308 with a swing-away scope for natural light, and another for night vision. This was a new model that could hold a twenty round magazine, as well as the six round magazines. The gun was well-made, and was perfect when you tried the various parts. We cleaned those as I told Fran, “I’ll show you how to knock off a caterpillar’s whisker at five hundred yards with this thing. It’s so accurate that the enemy will kill you to get it. We probably won’t ever be where that would happen again, but it’s an awesome weapon.”

Fran said, “This is similar to the rifles we were taught to use at the Deputy Academy, but this one looks like it’s put together a lot better.”

I smiled and said, “A whole lot better.”

The rangemaster said, “I’m not going to get the fifties out yet. I want you two to do some shooting tomorrow. Do you want to shoot after a workout in the mornings, or during the afternoon when you’re lazy after lunch?”

“You tell us. We’re up for any time. I’m sure we’re going to be doing more than shooting. What do you suggest?”

“You kids should eat breakfast, work out, do the courses they have set up for you, eat lunch, and then come play here for the afternoon. I’m supposed to have you for sixteen more hours, so we’ll have plenty of time. You’re both going to run right through our weapons, so you probably won’t really be here but twelve hours at most. We’ll see when we begin some live fire tomorrow.”

Our tour guide had magically appeared to take us to the chow hall. It was just after five, local time, when we entered the chow hall. Several people were sitting at tables with a bottle of beer. Some were using glasses, some not. A long table with a lot of bottles on it was pushed out to sit in a conspicuous place near the kitchen area.

I asked Fran, “Are you easily affected by alcohol? I’m asking as one of the things you’ll be tested on is if your tongue loosens when you drink or are your actions compromised. I’m lucky because I didn’t learn to drink anything until not that long ago. The man that taught me about booze can drink anyone under the table and still count backwards from one hundred by threes, fours, or any number. You’ll meet him if you stick around. So how are you with booze?”

Fran said, “Don’t let me have whiskey or champagne. I can drink good scotch and most vodkas all night long. What was that you were drinking while the men were talking to me this morning?”

“Beefeaters gin. It’s great with a salad or veggies with dips. I like it because I don’t get silly and it’s got a kick.”

Fran smiled, “Make me one and let me try. Stick close because I did get crazy a couple of times when we were all drinking in college. I think I could drink most anyone under the table if we stuck to beer, but I get too full. Let’s give your Beefeaters a try.”

I made two small drinks and gathered some veggies and dip for us to enjoy. Fran sort of snuck up on the drink and sipped it while having some carrots and celery sticks. I had put a couple of olives in the drink and she liked those. I made a second drink of the same size for us. I suggested that we get a salad since the serving line was open. We both had a Caesar salad and sat back down to enjoy it. Fran said, “You’re bad, Chuck,” about halfway through the salad. “I like your drink. It’s really good with the veggies and the Caesar dressing. You’re going to be alright to hang out with.”

That was our last drink because we wanted to enjoy our supper of some decent prime rib that wasn’t all fat. I was thinking of Dora’s restaurants, knowing that hers must be really good. I needed to take my tribe over to South Beach to treat them. Dora will go nuts trying to show them how great her brother is and how neat the restaurants are. I’d probably have to hire a limo and have sweet Colette do the driving. She wouldn’t be safe with the girls if they get wound up.

After supper we joined a group of men and women who were talking about an action in some hills near El Paso. They were saying that some black ops guys had come in, eliminated all the opposition, and freed some civilians. A guy said, “They were very efficient as they were able to free some people who had just been kidnapped, and five more that were up in a cave that had been dug out of the mountain. They were experienced since they didn’t even leave one shell casing. I know we were there when they were still around, but we didn’t see or hear them. I’ll bet they were ours. We have some awesome talent out here.”

I learned that Fran was originally raised in North Texas. She had decided to join the Marines when she finished Junior College because she didn’t know what she wanted to do. She found out that being a Navy corpsman assigned to the Marines was as close to being in combat as she could get, so she volunteered and spent almost a year with the Navy learning to be a combat medic. I gave her some of my history, and then said, “Let’s go to the room and Skype with the girls back home. You’ll like my friends.”

I used my cell phone to call Janet who quickly answered. She said, “I got your voicemail, but I was making a pickup with Sheena to take two couples to Costa Rica. I brought a couple back to Miami, so we made a buck both ways.”

I said, “Get on Skype with the girls if they’re around. I want you to meet my new partner. I’ll try to bring her home to meet you guys if I can.”

My laptop flashed and displayed a bunch of faces that were all smiling. Donna said, “We were waiting for you to call, and didn’t know who you would call first. This is even better.”

I said, “That is Donna, Fran. She’s in school to become an accountant. Show yourself, Gin.” The silly girl acted like she was going to strip. “That’s Grenaline, or Gin. She’s just begun medical school. The little person peeking around Gin is Nikki, my Polynesian beauty. She’s finished her RN and will be continuing in school to become a physician’s assistant or nurse practitioner. The dark beauty with the wonderful smile is Sheena. She’s finished her Junior College as an RN, but doesn’t know if she wants to continue. She’s the hostess for a lot of our charters.” I said, “Come on, Janet; show me the woman I’m in love with.” Janet got in front of the laptop screen in our room, and smiled. “That’s Janet. She also is a pilot who can fly almost everything I can, except rotary wing, that’s helicopters.”

I took a breath and put Fran in front of the screen and camera, “This is Fran Cunningham. She’s going to be my new partner for a while. We did a quick thing with Chuck and Sam Nightfox to get used to each other, and I think we’ll work out. She’s going to go through the training here with me, so we’ll be about equal. I have more combat experience than she does, but you’ll really be fascinated by what she did over there. So what do you think, can I bring her home to you guys?”

Gin asked, “How are you at getting along with a bunch of women, Fran?”

Fran said, “A lot better than I am with a bunch of men. Chuck is a real gentleman and seems to focus on what needs to be done and isn’t distracted by a female. I promise not to tease him, but I don’t think he’d be a problem even if I did.”

Donna told Fran, “We’ll tell you how good Chuck is when we meet you. We didn’t tease him either, but he could have been a problem. He wasn’t and it made us surer than ever that we wanted to be with him. All of us here right now are his women, and only his women. We’ll tell you about it when you come to visit.”

I told the girls, “It’s possible we’ll have to find a place for her to live because she may have to be near me to respond to action requests. She’s like I was and Janet was. The Marshal Service and Agency are shipping her goods from her apartment and her car to the trailer park. Everything is going to be shipped to Chuck’s to keep until she gets there. Watch for it.”

Janet said, “Sheena and Nikki are flying with me to pick up a couple with kids in Sacramento to go to Costa Rica tomorrow. They want the whole thing with food and babysitting. It’s a nice fare. Lisa Johnson, Chuck’s woman, is going to fly with me. She says it’s been too long since she’s been on a charter.”

“That’s great that she’ll fly with you. You know that she’s still a Deputy Marshal and was Chuck Johnson’s Agency partner, which makes her good to have along. Make sure she’s packing because you never know. I’m surprised that she can stand to be away from her babies that long. I’ll bet she’s going crazy by the time you get home.”

Janet said, “Probably, but I really like her. Her doctor friend is sort of special to all of us lately, because we visited with them when you were in school and we’re all invited to go play over there again while you’re gone. You don’t mind if we have some girlfriends, do you?”

I smiled into the camera and said, “Not as long as at least some of you come home when I’m home.”

All five laughed. Nikki said, “I talked to your sister, and she says that she wants to visit for a long weekend soon. She knows you’re off on assignment but said for you to stay ready because she’s drooling waiting to be with you.”

Fran gasped, but I just smiled at her and mouthed ‘later’. Gin said, “Right. Later when you’re unsuspecting and he’s chasing you around your room. Just tell him to wait and we’ll get you primed. You may not ever enjoy our man, but you can enjoy us if I get your drift.”

Fran grinned at the girls and gave them an air kiss.

“Okay, Girls, get some sleep and I’ll be home that much sooner. Goodnight, Loves. I love you all.”

Skype clicked off.

Fran said, “You really do live with a bunch of women. Guys brag about stuff, but you didn’t talk about them as if you were bragging. You talked about them in the same manner a guy would talk about his wife or girlfriend. What’s this about your sister? Are you from the hills somewhere?”

I was checking my e-mail and said, “No, Sis and I were born and raised in Florida. We very recently found we might enjoy expanding our relationship. I suppose that you would say she plays in both fields. She lives with her business partners on South Beach. Those business partners are women who enjoy sharing their lives with each other. I guess they are a little strange.”

Fran was smiling as she was undressing to get ready for bed. I shut my laptop down and closed it before beginning to undress. We both brushed our teeth while standing at the sink next to each other in undies and T-shirt. We were sitting on our beds, when Fran said, “I’ve been waiting to feel some remorse for neutralizing those men, but I don’t feel anything for them and do feel good about those women we freed. I’ll be able to not hesitate now that I’ve experienced doing what we did. The strength that you showed during our action really helped me know I was doing what was right; vicious, but the right thing to do.”

I said, “It’s easy when the enemy is doing what they were doing with innocent people. I hope they all made it to paradise. I don’t think they intended to be good citizens here.”

“It was easy, Chuck. The men who held me captive for so long were tiring of me, and I’m sure my head would have been sent to my former unit. I was a novelty they could smack around and do what they wanted to with me in the beginning. They would beat me that much harder when I fought them, and then make me do even more atrocious things. I prayed every night that I wouldn’t get pregnant, and didn’t by some stroke of luck. I’ll be one hell of a force to reckon with if most of the men I have to face are like those who held me captive and those last night. Keep me sane and don’t let me go over the edge, Chuck.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Fran. You’re through with what happened over there and you’ve now begun a new life and new career.”

Fran slid under the covers, and as I turned out the light, said, “I think I’m going to dream about seeing your place with all those girls in Florida. That’ll be a good dream.”

I lay in bed and searched Fran a minute, and then sent mental pictures of the luscious girls back home. I heard her sigh and knew she was going to sleep. I closed my eyes thinking gentle thoughts toward the girls at home.

I woke up just before six and thought that it would be good to go to the gym early. I woke Fran and she bounced up looking at me as I was slipping a jock and workout shorts on. She used the bathroom, put a sports bra on, and then pulled her T-shirt back on. I picked up the handset of the wall phone by the door, and a voice asked, “How may I help you?”

I said, “This is Charles Miller. I want to use the gym, but I don’t know where it is. Can you direct us? We can run to it as part of our workout preparation.”

The voice said, “Go to the street hallway, turn to the right, and run at a moderate pace for about ten minutes and you’ll see a sign that says gym. Continue down that hallway and keep taking right turns at intersections if you want a longer run, and you’ll be back to where the gym is. Make sure you stretch first. Enjoy.”

I repeated what I had been told, so we left the room and went out the doors to the hallway they called a street. You thought of it as a street considering carts used it, but it was actually a wide hallway. A cart came at us and passed us. I realized that the hallway was plenty wide enough for two carts to pass each other. I asked Fran if she wanted a longer run on the way to the gym, and she agreed with me we probably needed it. We passed the sign that said ‘Gym’, and continued to run and went right at the next intersection. The entire circuit took almost forty minutes, so we had run an hour by the time we went into the gym. Both of us used the free weights and pulleys for a good workout. The room needed to be larger so that we could do some Tai Chi stretching, but that would be best just before a shower and breakfast.

We jogged back to our room where I asked Fran before we entered, “Do you remember the Tai Chi stretching we did at the Academy? I really enjoy that and it relaxes me. How about we do some here in the hallway? There’s enough room and we’ll feel better afterward.”

Fran shrugged her shoulders, and said, “Lead on, Master. You’re the same in the real world as you were at the Academy. I wish the others were with us to enjoy this training too. I’ll bet we’ll run into them while working for these people.”

We did forms for twenty minutes before going in to shower and dress for the day. There was a note on the table that said, “Wear utility covers.” I showed it to Fran and we both put the billed utility cap on. We were going to call to get directions to the chow hall, but there was a ‘Bang, Bang’ on the door. Our tour guide was standing there smiling. He asked, “Hungry?”

We both smiled and nodded and he led us out to his cart that was parked against the wall. We watched two carts pass each other and didn’t clip our cart or the other one, so we got a demonstration of how wide the hallway was.

I asked, “You had a gas cart yesterday, and today the cart is electric. How do you keep the exhaust emissions from killing you?” on the way to the chow hall.

The guy said, “That’s easy; see those vents in the ceiling about every twenty yards? Those are air exchangers. Between the vents are air return ducts that either send the air outside or run it through scrubbers. We have a huge plant that keeps the interior at a constant seventy-two degrees in the hallways and seventy-four to seventy-five degrees in the offices and rooms. Alarms will go off all over the place if there is a failure of the air handling system, and we will all grab the first cart that passes and get out of here. We have drills about once a month. Oh, our gas carts run on natural gas, so they don’t have the same quality of emissions as a gasoline cart.”

Sitting with full trays of food was very relaxing. Our guide said, “You two are ahead of the curve because you did an hour of running this morning and a good workout in the gym. The training instructors enjoyed your doing Tai Chi forms in the hallway. They said you two should do the observation classes this morning. We’ll see if you paid attention at the Deputy Academy. You can go to our investigation classes that are similar to what you learned if you two remember what was taught. You can do some shooting this afternoon. Fran is going to an interrogation class tomorrow morning, and you will be flying some of our helicopters, Chuck. We need to know your proficiency. Finish your coffee and let’s go to observation class.

The man teaching the class wasn’t as thorough as the Deputy class, and had us watch a short video and then report what we saw. Both of us saw the hidden people and the weapons that were laying almost in open view. I think this video was the same as one of the first ones we saw in Marshal training. We watched a second five minute video that was sped up to confuse the observer, but we knew what to look for. The instructor said, “Get out of here” after we answered multiple choice questions. I’m taking you to our detective course. Let’s see if you learned how to investigate the same as how to observe.”

We went next door and almost laughed at the textbooks on the desks. These were the same as the ones at the Academy. I doubt there would be much need for us to take this course considering how they had emphasized our learning these techniques. It was exactly like the Deputy Academy. They gave us a crime scene and had us ask questions to find the answers to the problems the crime scene showed us. I think Fran’s memory is even better than mine and she could probably quote right out of the book. Fran finally told the man, “This is the exact same textbook we used at the Academy we just finished. You’re not covering any new material. We already learned this unless you have some new crime scenes or different scenarios. Do you have any equipment the Marshal Service may not have? I know we’re going to be confronted with a lot of very different situations, but I think we know this material.”

The instructor said, “We have your Deputy Academy transcripts that show you two among five who were unusually outstanding. The interrogation class for Frances tomorrow may have some new techniques, but then may not. We really need Chuck to go through our helicopter training, but I think we’ll have to have Fran do something productive while he’s doing that. It’s almost that time, so let’s go to lunch and get you to the range early.”

Our tour guide was watching training videos on his iPad, so he was right there to take us to the chow hall. He said, “You may be finished tomorrow depending on how you two do on the range and how Chuck does in the helicopters. I think the only person disappointed will be the range master. We were told you two would be keepers, so it isn’t a shock.”

We ate a decent lunch, but not so much as to become lethargic. We had a second cup of decent coffee and left for the range.

The range master had just returned from his lunch and had our weapons displayed so that we could use them. We went through the firing positions with the .308s, including wind effects, night vision, and using the range finders in the scopes. Both of our accuracy was as nearly perfect as you could want. We fired the fold up MP5 and had some fun snap shooting. We were then both handed a new fifty caliber sniper rifle. It didn’t seem as heavy as the one we had fired in Deputy Academy, and were told how the manufacturer had used some alloys that made the weapon a little lighter, and also absorbed the recoil even better. This weapon was a beast. You could hit a tiny dot at seven hundred yards. We each blew up a fake car with explosive rounds, and enjoyed being able to shoot in heavy wind and night conditions.

We had cleaned the new weapons when the range master said, “Okay, now for some sidearm practice. Who’s first?”

Fran jumped up while I was left at the table stuffing rounds into magazines. I had to stop, sand, and polish magazines, as the range master kept giving me new ones. I at least I knew that we now had good magazines that wouldn’t catch or jam, distracting us if we were in a situation.

I think Fran surprised the range master as she was able to hole out targets at twenty-five, fifty, and seventy-five yards. She brought her weapon and empty magazines to the table, and said, “Beat that, Buddy. I’m hot today.”

I put the ear and eye protection on and emptied a magazine at twenty-five, one at fifty, and another at seventy-five yards. I asked the range master, “Do you have a hundred meter position for pistols?”

The man said, “Are you like Chuck Johnson who thinks that he can hit anything, anytime?”

The target was way down there, but I hit the bell and fired a magazine at the body mass, one at the head, and the last split between the two. Every round was in the paint. I told the rangemaster, “What’s with the wind on a pistol range. That really screws up the concentration.”

Fran jumped up with three magazines, and said, “I want to try at a hundred yards. I can do it too if he can.”

Fran did hit the target with every round, but had some out of the paint without the wind. She looked disappointed, and said, “I should come down here and practice until I can do what you do. I can’t believe that you can shoot that well. It must be what you said about your dad teaching you when you were young.”

I just nodded, but also knew that the instructor in the ops training had been one of the best.

The range master brought out equipment cases that held our three rifles, all the magazines already filled with rounds, and additional magazines for our sidearm, while we cleaned our pistols. He showed us how to arrange the weapons and how to affix the straps that would keep them in place. The case was heavy, but would be within reason. There was room for our armor and possibly our equipment vest. There was a place for the K-Bar, and for the noise suppressors for the MP5, .308, and pistol, along with a threaded barrel for the Glock. It was amazing how the weapons could be broken down and stored in such a small case.