Jack nodded. “I’ve been working in the armory here in Geneva for quite a few years. My father thought I’d like it. He was right. I started working full time there after he went missing.”
“Did your father travel out in the wastes a lot?” Ralph asked.
“Yes, he was a Ranger. He was tracking some Rads west of Kings Town and didn’t make it back. Ranger Pete Anders and Ranger Captain Logan got killed on that same pursuit. My uncle Gordon lost his leg after being wounded. That was five years ago next month.”
“Most of the Rangers that came to our homestead and killed the raiders were out of the Kings Town Ranger station. Pete Anders was one of them. The Ranger that carried me to the aid station told me his name was Gordon, but I never heard his last name. Do you think it might have been your uncle?”
“Maybe. I’ll ask him when I get a chance,” Jack replied.
“Thanks, Jack. I’d like to know. Good luck on the evaluation,” he said as they neared the range.
“Thanks, you too, Ralph.”
. . . . .
Speaking of his father caused Jack to revisit a lot of old memories. He wondered how his father would feel about his decision to join the Rangers. The last time we talked we discussed this, he thought.
“You’re eighteen, old enough for the Rangers now,” his father had said. “I thought I’d be thrilled to have you join up. The first father-son pair in the Freelands. That’d be something, but now it scares the hell out of me, Jack. You think long and hard before you pull that trigger. It’ll be hard as hell on your mom if you do, but it’s your decision.”
Then you went and disappeared on us, Jack thought. I was so mad at you for not coming back, but I did as you suggested. A long hard five years, and here I am.
I may have a leg up on all of my fellow trainees. I’ve been around Rangers my whole life. I know what kind of men and women make up the Rangers. I’ve been there when they came back after things went bad. I’ve seen it when things go right. I know the job and what kind of person it takes to do it, even if I’ve never done it myself. The question is, do I measure up?
I also have a legacy to bear. I know what Hardin would say, “That crap is dragging you down, so cut it the fuck loose.” Easy for you to say.
“Thinking about your dad, aren’t you?” Amanda said as she dropped behind the main body of trainees to join her friend.
Jack welcomed the interruption. “I wish I knew how you did that,” he said.
“It’s not mind-reading. You’re just an open book.”
“Only to you.”
She glanced at him with a smile. “Well, here we are,” Amanda said when they walked into the range area. “I’d wish it, but you don’t need luck, Jack.”
“Luck shouldn’t be a factor. The four hundred will be tough with your AKM. Remember your hold over and watch your breathing. You’ll do fine. Despite what you said, you’re a little nervous. Don’t be,” he said encouragingly.
“We’ve been over this, Jack. I got it. Thanks.”
Once the group entered the range area, Corporal Sierra gestured toward some covered benches located about fifty feet behind the firing positions and said, “Okay, everybody grab a seat and I’ll call the first four shooters in a couple of minutes.”
Minutes later Art returned. “All right, we got Smith, Tubbs, Brewster, and Lewis up first. Follow me. The rest of you stay in this seating area and keep the noise down. No yelling or horseplay.”
After the first four shooters completed their round of shooting and made the long walk downrange to recover their targets and place new ones for the next round, they returned to the benches and most of their fellow trainees began throwing questions at them, “How hard was it? How well could you see the target? What was your score?” were but a few of those asked.
Very soon Art Sierra returned. “Okay, next four. Hays, Sikes, Barstow, and Smits, in that order, lanes one through four.”
As the four shooters were getting settled into their positions Jason Marcus shook his head and said, “How the hell is a one armed gimp gonna get through eval?” He pointed at Sikes. “Why is he even here? There ain’t no way he can be a Ranger.”
Sean started to say something when Jack, who was sitting next to him, put his hand on Sean’s arm and shook his head. Sean nodded at Jack and said nothing.
“You know, Marcus,” said trainee Lewis, the only woman in the group other than Amanda, “you might focus on your own problems, like how you are going to shoot today, instead of worrying about everyone else.”
Marcus’ face flushed with anger as he turned to face her. “You know what? I’ll do just fine when my turn comes. Nobody will out shoot me today, I know that. Spent the last week practicing. I just don’t like that we get our time wasted messing around with cripples and pretty girls that will never make it as Rangers.”
“We’ll see, Jason. Until then, why don’t you do like Corporal Sierra said and keep it down,” she replied.
He snorted. “Go ahead and hide behind Sierra. If you can’t handle a fight then don’t start one. You know—”
“Hey, Jason,” Jack said with a bit of an edge to his voice, “let’s tone it down a bit. If you are as good as you say, then show it on the range, okay? We’re going to be in each other’s company for quite a while, so we need to get along.”
Jason looked at Jack for a few seconds, his anger abating. He nodded. “Yeah, fine. I’ll try and take it easy on the weak ones. They’ll be gone soon enough.” He sat down and looked out to the shooting line.
Jack looked at the range as well. “A crosswind is picking up,” he said quietly, speaking to no one in particular.
When the second group was finished shooting and returned from pulling and replacing targets they went back to the benches. Amanda seemed happy.
Sean asked, “How’d you do?”
“I did fine except for the four hundred yard target. I put two on the target, neither one of them in the white. There’s a crosswind that came up. I think I overcompensated,” she said with an irritated look.
“It’s not a straight crosswind, that’s why. Still, that’s not bad at all for a... Kalashnikov,” Jack said with a smile.
Amanda glared. “You know what would have happened if you had said ‘girl’?”
Jack laughed. “No, but I imagine it would have hurt.”
“You know it, buddy.”
Sean pointed. “Well, we better get ready, Jack. Corporal Sierra is coming.”
Amanda leaned close to Jack and spoke quietly. “Jack, as a favor to the rest of the trainees, please shoot better than Jason Marcus. If he happens to be good and score the highest we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Yes, please,” trainee Lewis said just as quietly.
Jack shook his head. “I don’t think he’ll shoot nearly as well as he talks. I’d wager you both did better than he will, especially with the wind picking up.”
Art Sierra approached and said, “Okay, last group. Trahearn, lane one. Young, lane two. Traipse, lane three. Marcus, lane four.”
Jack grabbed Sean’s elbow as they filed from the benches. “Sean, aim for the left edge of the white at four hundred, it’s what you need to compensate for the wind.”
Sean nodded. “Thanks.”
As the four shooters walked to their positions, Jason turned to the three men to his left and yelled, “Three bolt action rifles against my semi auto. You guys are toast!”
“Marcus, shut it and keep your rifle pointed down range,” yelled Corporal Sierra.
“It’s not loaded, I checked,” replied Jason.
“Muzzle pointed downrange, right now Mr. Marcus!” Sierra barked.
“Got it, Corporal,” Jason said as he complied.
“Shooters, you have six rounds to confirm your zero. You will fire at the red target at one hundred yards. Load and fire at will. Scorers, signal me when your shooter has completed his fire,” commanded Corporal Sierra.
All four shooters fired their rounds with Tom,
Jason, and Jack seemingly satisfied and Sean muttering, “It’ll have to do.” Once their scorers signaled Art, the next phase began.
“Shooters, the next course of fire will require sixteen rounds. You will have six minutes to fire those rounds, four at each target. Load your weapons now. Scorers signal me when your shooter is ready.”
Within a minute all four scorers signaled Corporal Sierra. He looked over the range one more time. “Shooters, at my command, you may open fire. Six minutes, four rounds per target.” He paused. “Fire!”
Within seconds all four shooters began firing from the prone position.
The wind was not constant, gusts came and went. Predicting them and their speed was difficult.
Jason Marcus was finished in just over thirty seconds, looking very smug as he cleared his rifle and set it aside as directed by his scorer. Jack fired his last round just under three minutes after he began. Lieutenant Geiger, who was Jack’s scorer looked up from his binoculars with a perplexed expression on his face. Thomas Young completed his firing shortly after Jack, and finally, about a minute later, Sean was finished. All four scorers signaled Sierra to inform him the shooters had completed their shooting and all weapons had been cleared.
“Shooters,” yelled Corporal Sierra, “you will now be firing two rounds at each target, and you will have one minute in which to do it. Load your weapons. Scorers, signal me when your shooter is ready.”
Very little time passed before the corporal received the signals that all four shooters were prepared. “Shooters, on my command you will fire two rounds at each target, in one minute. Fire!”
One minute later all four shooters were finished shooting and had their weapons cleared by their scorer. “The firing line is clear,” declared Sierra. “Shooters, stand up and proceed downrange and retrieve your targets. Corporal Braden and Ranger West will escort you, so do not try and poke extra holes in your targets.”
As the shooters were headed downrange, Lieutenant Geiger signaled Corporal Sierra over to lane three. “Art, would you take a look at Jack’s targets?” He passed him his binoculars.
“What am I supposed to be looking for, LT?” he asked.
“It looks like one hit on the one hundred and two hundred yard targets to me. I can’t see anything on the other targets.”
“I’d just wait and see, Lieutenant. It’ll be fine, really,” Art replied as he passed the binoculars back to Geiger with a knowing smile.
Several minutes later, the trainees were back. Corporal Braden, carrying the trainee’s targets, approached Geiger and Sierra and said, “You ain’t gonna fucking believe this,” as he lay the targets on a nearby table. “Take a look.”
“I take it these are Jack’s?” asked Geiger as he looked at what were easily the best groups shot by any trainee in the group.
“That’s a roger, LT,” replied Braden. “One hole groups at one hundred and two hundred, close to four inches at four hundred with that wind. Dead center all the way. I knew the bastard could shoot, but… hell, he ought to be evaluating us.”
“Well I’ll be damned. You weren’t fibbing, Art,” Geiger said.
By then, all of the trainees that were supposed to be in the seated area came over to see what was causing the commotion.
“I could shoot like that too, if I had a scope on my rifle,” grumbled Thomas Young. “Are you sure he didn’t cheat or something? He’s from here, right?”
Geiger gave Thomas a stern look. “Mr. Young, look at Jack’s four hundred yard target. There are six bullet holes in about four inches in the white. Now if he could manage that, is it so hard to believe the targets from less distance are valid?”
“Then it’s gotta be the scope!” Young exclaimed.
“I’ve got a scope on mine too, Tom. It helps, but not enough to do what Jack did,” said Jim Barstow, one of the older trainees. “He did it with a gusting crosswind too.”
“I suppose if you used Jack’s rifle you would do as well?” asked the lieutenant.
“Pretty close, because I’m not used to his rifle.”
“What do you say, Jack, can Thomas try your rifle?” Geiger asked.
“If he wants to give it a try, go ahead,” Jack replied. “As long as he returns it like he received it.”
“Why don’t you both switch rifles and see how you do?” suggested Corporal Braden.
“That would certainly make it interesting,” said Geiger.
Jack’s expression made it clear he wasn’t happy where things were headed. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Lieutenant.”
Thomas glared at Jack. “Oh, so you’re chickening out, huh?”
Jack sighed. He was not happy. “Have it your way, Tom, but remember you’re the one that pushed this. Lieutenant, can we have some practice rounds first?”
“Certainly. Ten rounds practice, then ten rounds at four hundred yards. Corporal Braden, would you get forty rounds of three-oh-eight?”
“You got it, Lieutenant,” he said and headed for the range shack.
“Hey, what about me, Lieutenant?” asked Jason Marcus.
“What about you, Mr. Marcus?”
“Why don’t you have me shoot against those two, let me show them what’s what.”
Geiger sighed loudly. “Marcus, let’s take a look at your targets, shall we? Four hundred yards, not a hit on the paper. Three hundred yards, one hit, but not in the white. Two hundred yards, two hits in the white, two in the black. One hundred yards, four hits in the white, two off the paper.” He paused and blinked for a couple of seconds. “I don’t know how to break this to you, but that is not good.”
“But, I don’t see how that can be. I never miss with this,” he said as he held up his rifle, muzzle pointed into the group around the table.
Art Sierra quickly grabbed the barrel of Jason’s rifle, pushing it skyward as he snatched it from the trainee’s grasp. Most of those nearby scattered or ducked.
“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Jason exclaimed.
“How stupid are you, kid? You’ve got a mag in the rifle,” Art said as he removed the magazine. “A loaded mag, shithead!” he growled as he eyed at the ammunition in the magazine. He put the magazine on the table and pulled the rifle’s bolt to the rear, ejecting a live round from the weapon. “Unfuckingbelievable! You point a hot weapon into a crowd of people?” he bellowed.
“The safety was on,” Jason said, clearly unaware of his dangerous negligence.
“Oh, well I guess I owe you an apology. Everything is just great then, isn’t it?” Art said with great sarcasm. “HQ. Now! Move your ass!” he screamed.
Jason took off at a run.
“Corporal Braden, will you head over to the office and keep an eye on Mr. Marcus, I will be there shortly,” Lieutenant Geiger said, as Braden put the ammunition on the table.
“On it,” Braden said, heading for the headquarters building.
Despite the incident, the impromptu competition between Young and Traipse would go on.
A few minutes later Jack and Thomas had finished shooting their practice rounds.
“Gentlemen, now that you’ve got your practice rounds in are you ready?” Lieutenant Geiger asked.
“Sure am,” Thomas Young replied as Jack nodded his affirmation.
“Take your time, ten rounds at four hundred yards. Fire at will.”
. . . . .
“Well Jack, you have eight in the white and two just outside in the black,” Art said looking over the paper, “Mighty fine shooting.”
“Thanks, Corporal,” Jack said humbly.
“And let’s see how TraineeYoung did,” commented Art as he picked up Tom’s target.
“C’mon, tell me I beat him,” Thomas said.
“Afraid not, kiddo. You have three in the white, the other seven are in the black, all on the paper.” Art replied.
Thomas looked away with irritation. “Dammit!”
“You shot well,” Jack said as he lay Thomas’ weapon on the table. “You have a fi
ne rifle. Some optics would make it even better.”
“Don’t mock me!” Thomas said as he moved around the table at Jack with his fists clenched.
“Oh no you don’t!” Sean said as he swept one of Tom’s legs out from under him, taking him to the ground. Despite the size difference, Sean ended up on top and stayed there. Once they were separated by trainees and Rangers, Thomas calmed down.
“What has gotten into the trainees today?” asked Lieutenant Geiger.
Corporal Sierra shrugged. “I’ll handle Young if you don’t mind, LT.”
“I would appreciate it, Art. I’ll head back to HQ. You can dismiss the trainees for the day whenever you’re finished with them.”
“Will do, Lieutenant. Okay, everyone head back to the training area and wait for me there, except you, Mr. Young.”
. . . . .
The group of trainees, now shy Jason and Thomas, walked back to the training area. Trainee Lewis approached Jack and said, “Thanks for what you did with Jason back at the range.”
“You’re most welcome uh, Miss Lewis. I’m sorry, I don’t know your first name,” Jack replied.
“It’s Jennifer.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jennifer.”
“Same here. Where did—”
“Jennifer Lewis, I need trainee Lewis in the HQ,” Corporal Braden yelled from the doorway to the headquarters building. “Lieutenant Geiger needs to speak with you.”
“Right here. On my way,” Jennifer answered. “We’ll continue this later, I hope,” she said smiling at Jack as she trotted toward the HQ, shiny brunette ponytail bouncing.
“Thanks for what you did with Jason back at the range,” Sean said with a falsetto voice, trying to impersonate Jennifer.
Jack gave Sean a sideways glance. “You know, I was going to say almost the same thing to you about Thomas,” Jack replied.
“Well, you’re welcome, unless you’re flirting with me like she was with you,” he shot back.
“You think she was flirting with me?” Jack asked.
“You have to be kidding, Jack,” Amanda said. “Of course she was flirting with you.”
The Blastlands Saga Page 4
