Chapter 22 - Target Practice

Gage took the next exit, merging onto a two lane road. Deira stared out the window, though there was little to see, just fields on either side, the occasional farm house providing the only variety. He could not tell if he had hit a nerve or just insulted her. The end result was the same. She was angry, but at least she had learned to hold it in check.

He turned down a country road. She looked at him sharply.

"Assuming you aren't going to shoot me and bury me in a field, where are we going?"

"You will see."

They were nearing a long, low building at the end of the road. They passed a sign with multiple warnings against trespassing. Gage ignored it and parked between a rusty, black pickup truck and a pristine, grey Saturn convertible. The latter made him smile. He got out of his truck, taking the metal case from the back seat and motioning for Deira to follow him.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"A private shooting range. I want to see how well you handle a gun."

"You could have said so."

"It was more entertaining to annoy you."

"Sometimes I hate you," she said with surprisingly little malice.

"Most people do."

They walked into a small office. A young man was sitting behind a low counter, the back of his chair tilted to rest against the wall. He looked up from his magazine. Gage nodded to him and signed the register.

"Good to see you, Chuck. It's been awhile." The chair legs hit the floor. The man ran his hand through already tousled brown hair.

"Good to see you, too, Jake," Gage said. His accent was gone again. "I've been wanting to come, but you know how it is."

"Yeah. Who's your friend?" He dropped the magazine and regarded Deira, stopping just short of ogling. She had expected that the bruises would shield her from that sort of attention but apparently not.

"Gina, this is Jake."

Jake got up to shake her hand, a lopsided grin on his face as he looked from Gage to her.

"You licensed?"

"Of course," Deira said. She showed him her firearms ID card.

"Gotta ask." He held up his hands and backed away. Gage put the guest fee on the counter.

"Rifle range is all yours. Kelli is trying out her new Glock on the pistol range. I have no idea where Frank is. Probably on the patio drinking. His wife doesn't let him do that at home anymore."

Gage looked at him sharply.

"I have his gun and his keys. You got nothing to worry about. Have fun shooting." Jake sat down and picked up his magazine.

"Chuck?" Deira whispered as soon as the office door closed.

"Let it go, princess," Gage murmured. She laughed quietly as she followed him down the hall, towards the sound of gunfire.

A petite brunette stood in the middle bay, firing steadily. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders, bangs just brushing the protective glasses. She finished up the clip with a huge smile on her face. Gage watched her for a moment, amused. When she pushed the button to retrieve her target, he moved past her, then turned to regard the target. The chest area was sprinkled with bullet holes, and there was a perfect head shot. Just one. He whistled his approval when she removed her earmuffs.

"I think I missed my calling as a hit man," the woman laughed, removing the glasses. Deira flinched. Gage did not react at all.

"You'd be a better cop, Kelli. You like order," he said.

"True. My Viking heritage is inclined to raids on the unsuspecting anyway. Come to think of it, the Irish side favors that, too. But the Irish cop thing is so overdone." Kelli took down the target and turned to face him, her brown eyes bright. "My talent will just have to be wasted, I guess."

"The Irish explains the short," Gage said.

"You do realize that I already have a gun out and loaded, and you don't, right?" She tucked her hair behind her ear and stepped back towards the gun, smiling. He didn't move. She didn't reach for it.

"Gina, meet Kelli, the woman who keeps every man here from feeling smug."

"Not likely. Most of them don't know how to feel any other way." Kelli stepped past him to shake Deira's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Nice shooting," Deira said.

"Thanks." Kelli looked down at the target and then at her gun. There was something akin to lust in her gaze. "I waited years for this gun. Now all I want to do is shoot it. Good thing I can come here or I'd be tempted to shoot every squirrel in sight, and I'm pretty sure the condo association would frown on that. Still, it'd be wicked fun."

"You have my card if you need someone to bail you out," Gage said, moving to the last bay.

Deira began to follow him, but Kelli touched her arm lightly.

"Don't worry about being nervous. He knows what he's doing, and rumor has it that he's pretty good. But don't treat him like a god or anything. He's just another yahoo with a gun." Kelli kept her voice low.

"Thanks for the advice," Deira answered, trying very hard to suppress nervous laughter.

Kelli loaded another target and replaced her earmuffs and goggles. Within seconds, she was back in her trance.

Gage had the case open and was checking the guns. He suspected the Glock would work for Deira. Her hands were big enough for it. There was no science to it; some guns just fit and others didn't. In the end, it would be her choice. He hoped she chose that one. He didn't want to let go of the other two. They were much harder to trace. He had never brought them out here. He was glad Kelli had her new toy to keep her occupied. She was less likely to be watching. He closed the case.

Deira waited patiently while Gage put the gun together. He handed her a pair of glasses.

"I assume you were taught to shoot," he said.

"Fine time to ask, but yes. That was part of my training." Neither of them would mention Sticks by name, even if there was no one around to hear.

He loaded a target, handed her earmuffs and put on his own. Then he handed her the gun. It was the single most trusting thing he could do. She took it from him and checked it. Smart girl. He could see her checking her grip, testing the weight of the gun and the sight. When the target was in place, she glanced over her shoulder at him. He nodded, and she began firing.

Her smile didn't match Kelli's for intensity, but he was glad to see it. Her stance was acceptable, despite obvious tension. He watched her shoulders drop as she laid the gun down and waited for the target to come forward. There was a line of holes from the lower chest to the shoulders. A quick count told him that several rounds had missed.

"I shifted up," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Not unusual," he said. "Compensate on the next round."

He put a hand on her shoulder when she reached for the gun.

"Let me help." He stood behind her and positioned her arms, then stepped back, letting her make her own adjustments.

The second target was much cleaner. Any one of them would be enough to stop an assailant, if not kill him.

"Is your injured hand giving you any trouble?" he asked.

"It hurts a little, but it's not affecting my shooting. I'm just not that good."

"Good enough, if it comes down to it. With planning and luck, it should not be an issue. Go again."

He switched out guns. She didn't care for the Magnum at all, saying it was too heavy. He was glad. That had come from Israel, via various channels, and would be hard to replace. The HK USP was better, but she still preferred the Glock.

"Your turn," she said, stepping back.

He picked up the Magnum and set up a target. The world fell away. There was nothing but him, the gun, and the target. He knew Deira was behind him. He was aware of Kelli's target as it slid towards her, but he was not with them. When his target came forward, there was little left of the center. Of course, there wasn't a lot of distance between him and the paper target, and it was neither shooting at him nor running away. It was much harder in the field.

As he switched pistols and set up for another round, he wondered why firing a gun did not trigger war memories the way low-flying airplanes or backfiring cars did. Maybe it was familiarity. He had spent years shooting at people and being shot at in return, though never with weapons of any quality. Gun battles made sense to him. Watching villages explode as the attackers flew away did not. It was amazing that he had lived through his early years. Target in place, he began to fire. The results were the same no matter which gun he used.

He finished with the Glock. It was a very good weapon but not his favorite. The others were already in the case when Kelli approached to see how he had done. He glanced at the case to make sure it was closed. She wasn't looking at it. Her eyes were fixed on the target.

"Damn. You really are as good as they say." Kelli looked up at him.

"I didn't know they talked about me." Gage said.

"You know this place, it's a cross between pissing contest and gossip with most of these guys. Not many of them have seen you shoot, but the rumors are out there anyway."

"Oh? What do they say?"

"They figure you for ex-military. Best story is that you were a sniper. "

"Is that so? I'm flattered. The truth isn't that exciting. I just grew up around guns and like them. I was never in the army. You can tell them that if you want."

"What, and burst the bubble? Not me. Let them think what they want. It gives them something to do instead of razzing me about shooting like a girl." She rolled her eyes. "They haven't seen me with the pistol yet."

"That ought to shut them up."

She grinned at him, nodding. "I'm really looking forward to the shoot on Saturday. You should come."

"Unfortunately, I have plans this weekend. But the next time I run into you, I want to hear all about it." Gage returned her smile.

"Deal." Kelli walked away, humming.

Gage put away the Glock and locked the case. Deira followed him out, thanking Jake on the way. There were more cars and trucks on the lot now, and the sound of gunfire could be heard from the outdoor range, punctuated by the occasional whoop. The grey convertible was gone.

"So where do we go from here?" Deira asked.

"Back to the house. I need to clean the guns and make a call."

"I could use a bath and a nap, if that's okay."

He nodded. "If the security system has not been triggered, I will take you home tonight."

"You can check that remotely?"

"Yes."

"You didn't tell me that," she said sharply.

"You never asked. I did not think it was important. The alarm will send me a coded alert if it is triggered or shut off. I configured it that way for situations such as the one you are currently in."

"Where's the code to tell me you're keeping an eye on me?"

"I should have thought that my wanting to know what is going on would be a given, princess."

"You're a control freak."

"Of course I am. That also should have been clear to you from the beginning. Were you not paying attention?" He could not suppress his amusement.

"Not well enough, apparently."

"You should work on that."

"Next time I hook up with a hit man, I'll keep that in mind," she said.

"If it is anyone but me, I would suggest you be particularly wary." His amusement was gone.

"Even if I live through this, there won't be a next time. I need to do this for my sister, but when it's over, I'm done."

"I am glad to hear that." He glanced at her. "You could leave the job to me and be done with it now."

"Nice try, but no. I'm going to finish what I started, one way or another."

"So will I."