Chapter 4: First Contact

Reviewing the events of the previous day, Buck headed to the weapons vault to seek advice from Adam, the weapons expert. If, there were a way to improve his beloved Betsy, Adam would know how to do it. Standing in front of the weapons door, Buck punched the numbers on the keypad, watching the door slide open with a hiss. Only the protectors, the leader of the Council and of course Adam knew the code to gain entrance.

Over the years others had argued that if the Sanctuary were attacked, only the protectors would be able to defend themselves. The original leader, John Stone, had been very clear, leaving in his video journals his opinion, "If the Sanctuary ever came under attack from an outside force, with all the entrances sealed it would be next to impossible to gain entry. Secondly if a man or woman wasn't ready to go through the mental and physical to be a protector, they were a danger to themselves and to the clan as a whole." Seeing the wisdom in his words, the following leaders had elected to heed his advice.

Walking through the doorway Buck reflected, I feel like a kid at Christmas! This was his real home! It never failed to leave him speechless as he looked along the walls of the massive room. Every part of the walls were covered, racks upon racks of every type of weapon. He would always love the Glocks with their flat black finish and a tough as nails construction, and wouldn't trade them for all the shiny pistols on the wall.

A man in his late fifties with startling white hair cropped close to his skull walked up, greeting Buck, "Howdy son! You here for some target Practice?"

Looking at Adam with his lean frame and stooped shoulders, Buck absently remembered back to when he was six. Blake, his father, had died while on patrol as a protector. They were looking for a part for the clan's only tractor. The chopper had landed in what looked like an abandoned small town. It was one of the first patrols outside the fifty-mile safe area.

The scavengers had surprised the men when they were too far away from the Blackhawk and killed everyone but the pilot. The pilot had managed to get off the ground and went to help his unit, but he was much too late. Seeing his unit slaughtered and the scavengers picking through the bodies, he shredded them with the mini gun, then landed to recover his friends' bodies. The pilot was Adam.

Blake and Adam had been friends their entire life. Adam was heartbroken when Blake was killed. Years before, Blake had made Adam promise that if anything should happen to him, Adam would look after Blake's son. The pilot turned in his wings and became the premiere gunsmith for the Sanctuary.

Keeping his word, Adam had taken the boy into his house, and into his heart. Adam and Maggie, his wife, had tried but couldn't have children of their own. A lost little boy found love. Tt didn't take long before the three were a family. Thus began Buck's training into the world of firearms. Adam knew every Weapon in the vault, having at one time or another repaired or modified most of them.

Realizing Adam was staring at him, Buck answered, "No it's my little girl, referring to his Model 94."

"What's she doing?" queried Adam.

"I guess you heard about yesterday?" muttered Buck.

Adam snickered. Then, seeing that Buck wasn't smiling, he patted him on the back. "Hell son! There ain't a gun made that don't need some kind of modification."

Having been a protector in his past, he knew how important the weapon's dependability really was. "What's she doing wrong?"

Buck held up the Sharps showing Adam the rear sight. "It kept slipping down while I was trying to shoot that damn bear." Offering the rifle to Adam. "I ended up having to look down the side of the barrel to get a shot."

Taking the rifle, Adam looked at the rear sight. "Hmmm," he said. "I kind of figured something like that might happen. You see son, this gun was originally designed for hunting." Examining the 28" octagonal barrel, Adam added with a grin, "I'm not sure mind ya, but I figure this was made for the hunter to be still when shooting and not jumping around dodging bears."

Buck blushed, and tried to kick the old man in the bottom.

Adam chuckled, backing away. "I've been tinkering with a new sight for your baby, come on over to my workbench."

Buck followed him over to the workbench where he himself had spent many an afternoon helping the old man clean and repair the groups' firearms.

"Look at this," said Adam, holding up a strange looking sight. It was four- inches long and inch and a half wide. At the bottom end was a cylinder the size of his little finger. It was colored a dark blue, matching his beloved Betsy.

"What's with the bottom being so big?" questioned Buck. He watched as Adam took a screwdriver, and carefully removed the old rear sight from the rifle.

Adam chuckled, "You'll see." The gunsmith carefully mounted the new sight on Buck's favorite rifle. Then pushing a small button on the side allowed the strange looking sight to flip up for long distance shooting. Buck heard a slight click as the sight locked into place. "Now hold on to your baby," cautioned Adam.

He carefully unscrewed the end cap. It was so well designed that Buck couldn't tell it had been there. After taking the cap off, Adam slid in a rechargeable battery. "Now look close at the inside of the cap Buck, he said.

Holding it in the light, Buck could see the o-ring around the inside edge. "It's water proof right?" Buck asked.

Handing the cap back to Adam, he watched as it was screwed back on. Adam's only reply was, "Well duhh."

Beaming, Adam motioned for Buck to follow him. "Come with me son." Walking to the far side of the room they went through small door marked Firing Range. The range was used for training all the protectors and allowed them to pick the weapons that suited their abilities the best. The range was 400 yards long and 100 yards wide. It was set up for every type of weapon they had short of the explosive rounds. Targets were set at different distances with most on wire trolleys.

Buck pursed his lips looking at the strange sight on Betsy. Noticing the lowest notch on the adjustment was for one hundred yards. Thinking to himself, I wonder what I'm supposed to do inside of that range? The damn bear was a hell of a lot closer than a hundred yards. Hell! I could smell what he had for breakfast! Buck shrugged and adjusted his sight as low as he could.

Picking a target at ninety yards distance, he aimed between the eyes of a human silhouette he fired a shot. The bullet just nicked the top of the target's head. "Shit!" he muttered, looking at his mentor. "I haven't missed from this distance since I was ten. What's wrong with this dang sight?"

Knowing Buck would miss, Adam grinned. "Nothing. You're too close to use the sight that way."

A bewildered Buck watched Adam pressed the release button letting the sight fold down, and lock in place. Adam held the new sight up close so Buck could see a small metal button on the opposite end of the battery cap. "This is for a hundred yards and in," he said pressing the button. A red beam of light shot out of the sight and down the front of the barrel. "Now," directed Adam. "Just point the red dot where you want to shoot and let her rip!"

Taking back his Betsy, he pushed the button again. Buck was skeptical but knew better the to antagonize the old man. Looking at the head of the human silhouette, he snapped Betsy to his shoulder and spotted the dot. As soon as he had the dot on target he touched one off. Buck was astonished to see a perfect kill shot between the eyes of the target.

"Well I'll be danged," he said, almost whispering.

Someone behind them exclaimed, "What the hell was that?" Turning to see a flabbergasted Tex with his mouth open made Buck smirk. Putting his arm across Adam's shoulder, Tex pleaded, "Hey my buddy, my friend, my pal, have I ever told you I think you're a genuine genius?"

Adam made a show of looking at his feet. "What's wrong gunsmith to the god's?" Tex asked, still kissing up in hopes of the same sight.

Grimacing, Adam looked up and replied, "I just noticed I'm wearing low cut boots, and the bullshit is getting thick in here."

Tex was silent for a moment as his face reddened.

Buck cracked up laughing uproariously and slapping the gunsmith on the back.

Chuckling, Adam stepped over assuring Tex, "Actually, I've already made them for everyone in your squad."

Tex, to Buck's astonishment, grabbed Adam up and kissed him full on the mouth.

"Ahh!! hollered Adam, wiping his mouth. "You squirrelly horn-toad. Save that for the ladies."

Buck couldn't stop laughing till his sides hurt.

Tex of course apologized, making sure he was still in the good graces of the premiere gunsmith. After a few minutes, Adam regain his composure, announcing, "I want your entire team to field-test them for a few days. If they work out, I plan on letting Daniel introduce them to the other squads."

Looking closer at Buck's new fangled sight, Tex asked Adam, "Whatcha gonna call these fancy sights partner?"

Looking at his adopted son, he answered in a soft voice, "I named them after my best friend," Adam smiled. "They're called the Blake Laser Sight."

Buck's eyes lost a little focus from the mist in them. Choked up a little, he said, "I think that's a fine name Pop."

Even Tex was quiet for once in his life. Well at least for a minute or two.

Tex took off to locate Jet and Bear, and had them grab their weapons. In less than an hour all four of them had their guns fitted with the new sights, and were trying them out in the range. Adam had installed the Blake Laser sight on all the men's pistols too.

Holding Betsy with his back to the targets, Buck pivoted firing at the human silhouette eyes. Diving to the ground he rolled, emptying the Winchester into the head, then rolling away. Still in a prone position, he drew his Glocks. He continued firing fist size holes in the midsection, then finishing up by shooting the legs off of the now decimated silhouette.

Tex went next starting in a crouching position firing his M-16 neatly stitching a human target from crotch to throat. Dropping his M-16, while still in motion his hands flashed to his S&W revolvers. Being ambidextrous meant that he could fire both pistols at the same time. The .44 cal. slugs sounded almost like a single shot, as they cut the target in half.

Not to be outdone Jet stepped up concentrating on a mountain lion target, whipping his Uzi's out he emptied both clips. As the trolley came up to them, they cracked up laughing. Jet had written his name in the side of the silhouette.

The last was Bear. His big .50 cal. machine gun was loud outside, but in the confines of the range it was deafening. Starting left to right, he sent a variable hail of monster slugs into what was left of the silhouettes turning them into kindling. "Well works for me, he said with a grin. Of course, no one could hear a blasted thing, but they got the idea.

Adam stood watching each protector's performance absently thinking to himself, These men were the cream of the crop in the brotherhood of the protectors. The Blake Laser sights will give them the upper hand in battle. He smiled at Jet's antics and was in awe of the shear destruction of Bear's big 50. In the silence that followed, he thought as he often did to Blake, Well Blake, that's the best I can do to give them an edge.

Buck uncovered his ears seeing Bear had emptied his Big Boy. In Bear's massive hands, the .50 cal. machine gun looked about the size of Tex's M-16, Buck admitted.