Dead Shot

by Ethan Johnson

  Griggs slipped on a pair of safety glasses and nodded to his charges. “Now, I will demonstrate the difference between accuracy, and precision.”

  Or, none of those things, she thought with a smile. Lyssa grinned at her, as though she had picked up the message telepathically.

  Griggs put on hearing protection and signaled to the cadets to follow his example. They put on their safety equipment despite standing a few paces behind him, and he faced the target. He raised his weapon to fire, took aim, and fired a single bullet. He lowered his gun, removed his hearing protection, and turned to the cadets. “Was that shot accurate, or precise? Who can tell me?”

  Diana gawked at the target and snorted at the sight of a single hole in the outermost ring in the target. “Neither.”

  The cadets laughed, and Griggs raised his left hand. “Does anybody else have a different answer?”

  One of the male cadets raised his hand, then said, “Accurate.”

  Griggs smiled. “Good. Accurate. Not precise? Why not?”

  The cadets looked at each other but did not have an answer they appeared comfortable providing. Diana wondered how a bullet so far from the bright red bullseye could be considered “accurate”. She figured Griggs had a higher opinion of his shooting ability than he deserved.

  “It’s accurate because the bullet struck the target. It might be precise, but that takes more than one shot to make that determination.” He put on his ear protection, waited for the cadets to follow his example, and fired five more shots at the target. All of them were clustered together. He removed his ear protection and pointed to the target. “How shall we score that? Don’t raise your hands. Call it out if you know the answer.”

  The male cadet lowered his hand. “Accurate, and precise.”

  “Correct. Why?”

  “You hit the same spot over and over.”

  “Very well. Let me show you another example. Ear warning.”

  Diana put on her ear protection just in time, as Griggs fired five more bullets into a far corner of the target paper.

  “Worse, same, or better?”

  “Same,” said Lyssa.

  “Why?”

  “You clumped your shots together, but they were still hitting the target.”

  Griggs gave a withering sigh. “Anyone else?”

  Lee Harper spoke up. “Worse.”

  “Why worse?”

  “You didn’t hit anything inside the target.”

  “You’re half right. I was ‘Not accurate, but precise’, technically speaking. This means I was a terrible shot, but I was consistently terrible. That means I was maintaining a steady grip on my weapon.” He recalled the target and Officer Sorrellis replaced it with a fresh one. She sent it back downrange as Griggs put on his ear protection. Diana was a half-second ahead of him.

  Griggs took two shots at the target, then the firearm clicked. He pulled the trigger again, and nothing happened. He pulled off his ear guards. “What just happened?”

  Diana snickered. “You ran out of ammo.”

  “Correct. Why?”

  “You can’t count?”

  Griggs snorted and gave a grudging smile. “In this example,” he said emphatically, “you are correct. This may seem foolish, but in all seriousness, this is a common rookie mistake. If you’re in a live-fire situation, if in doubt, reload. You’re not going to have the wherewithal to keep count of how many shots you fired. If it has been more than nine, reloading time. Say it with me.”

  Diana repeated the directive. “More than nine, reloading time.”

  “Good. The magazine release is here. Activate it like so, remove the magazine, insert another one, and now you’re ready to return fire.”

  Diana shook her head. “No, you’re not.”

  Griggs huffed. “Aren’t I, Miss Pembrook? Perhaps you’d like to instruct the class?”

  Diana pointed to the gun. “You didn’t confirm that magazine was loaded.”

  Griggs released the magazine and showed the class the glint of a cartridge on top. “Anyone who doesn’t see it’s loaded?” The class shook their heads, and he snapped the magazine back in place. “Miss Pembrook is correct. I didn’t look first but should have. As you can see, this is a mistake anybody can make, rookie or veteran alike.” He put his ear protection on and fired three more shots at the target. Bullet holes dotted the target paper along the edges, but nothing landed inside of the target circle, or close together.

  “Score that pattern.”

  Lee took the opportunity. “Not accurate. Not precise.”

  “The correct score is ‘Neither accurate nor precise’. Don’t let this be you. This means you’re taking wild shots without any regard for aim, control, or anything else. That’s what thugs do. While they shoot everything else around you, your objective is to take them down with accurate and precise shots, like so.” Diana put her hearing protection on the second he began to turn to the target. He fired three shots, all landing inside of the red bullseye at the center of the target. The cadets sounded their approval of his shot pattern. All of them, that is, except for Diana and Lyssa.

  Griggs scowled at them and stepped toward Lyssa. “Perhaps you could do better? Officer Sorellis, let’s have a new target for the expert marksman.”

  Sorrellis rolled her eyes and replaced the target. She sent it downrange and returned to her metal folding chair in the corner. She leaned back and crossed her arms tightly.

  Lyssa was guided into place by Griggs, who ordered her to put on ear protection before firing. The cadets put theirs on and watched nervously as she raised her gun to fire. She pulled the trigger, and nothing happened. Griggs made a show of releasing the safety, then stepped back. She raised the gun again, and this time it fired, as the recoil sent her arms upward, clutching the firearm and causing her to let out a squeak of surprise.

  “The suspect is still at large, Miss Delaney. Fire again.”

  She took another shot and fought the recoil. She took one more wild shot, and Griggs intervened. He took the gun away and pulled her out of the stall. He recalled the target and scoffed. One bullet had struck the upper right-hand corner of the target. It wasn’t clear where the other two had gone. Lyssa flexed her fingers and frowned over her trembling hand.

  “A failure, on all counts. I’ll be honest with you. This is why women shouldn’t be front-line officers. Support duty is okay, like Miss Sorrellis, here.”

  Sorrellis flipped him off behind his back but said nothing.

  Diana snapped her ear protection in place and snatched the gun from his hand. She sent the target downrange, set her feet, checked the magazine and the safety, raised her hands, and squeezed the trigger five times in succession. The barrel barely moved as each bullet launched toward the target. She applied the safety and handed the gun back to Griggs. She removed her ear guards and leaned against the wall, defiantly.

  Griggs recalled the target and turned beet red. Sorrellis was on her feet and rescued the target from him before he could tear it into pieces. He stormed out of the gun range, and the cadets crowded around to inspect the shot pattern.

  “I counted five shots,” Lee said, incredulously. “Right?”

  Sorrellis smirked. “Yes, you did. I did too.” She removed her sidearm from its holster and ejected a live round. She threaded the cartridge through the center of the bullseye and held it in place as proof: Diana had put five bullets through the bullseye without flinching. Sorrellis wiggled the cartridge to show the shots had some variation but struck the target in a tight pattern. She held up the example from Griggs. Three holes formed a triangle within the confines of the bullseye. None were on center.

  “Holy crap,” she said, looking up at Diana with respect and admiration.

  “Just doing my job,” Diana said, with a faint smile.

  When they returned to their dorm room, Lyssa slammed the door closed behind them and flicked the privacy latch into position. She rushed up to Diana and kissed her. Diana stepped backward, and seconds later
was tackled onto the bed. Lyssa straddled her and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re a killing machine! That was amazing… you were amazing!” She kissed Diana again.

  Diana looked up at her and smiled. “It’s no big deal.”

  Lyssa kissed her, then shook her hair out of her eyes. “Yeah, right. Man, Griggs is pissed! Seeing him storm out after you showed him up was just… so… wow!”

  They kissed some more, and a knock sounded at the door. They stiffened like frightened animals and looked at each other fearfully. Another knock came, and Sorrellis called to them through the door. “Open up, already.”

  Lyssa swore and got off the bed, frantically running her fingers through her hair as she tried to tame it. Diana wiped her lips with the back of her hand and scooted back onto her pillow. She tried to give the impression she was relaxing after a long day of class. Lyssa smoothed out her shirt and opened the door. Sorrellis rested her forearm against the door frame and gave Lyssa a hard stare. “Come on, we’re having a night out, just us girls. Move.”

  “But we don’t—”

  Sorrellis raised her hand. “I’m driving. Put something decent on. Meet me in the side lot in five minutes.”

  Lyssa nodded dumbly and closed the door. She walked around aimlessly, trying to process what had happened. Diana hopped off the bed and searched the closet for something to put on that didn’t make her look like a farm hand or a police cadet.

  Lyssa tossed a top at her, and it landed on her head. “Put that on. There’s no time.”

  Diana unbuttoned her shirt and pulled on the sleeveless top. Her breasts were more noticeable than she preferred, as was the necklace she pulled from the Stallions gang leader. Lyssa handed her a black jacket and ordered her to put it on. She pulled the front flaps together and fastened a few of the snaps. She didn’t feel so exposed after that.

  Lyssa tossed together a clubby look on the fly and hopped up and down as she struggled to get into a pair of heels. She stood up straight and clip-clopped around in a tight circle as she pulled her wild hair into a ponytail. “I’ll deal with it later. Let’s scoot.”

  Sorrellis leaned against her dark blue sedan and frowned at the pair as they ambled through the parking lot. She looked them up and down and shrugged. “It’ll do. Get in.”

  Lyssa got in the back seat behind the driver’s seat, and Diana walked around to the other side. Before she could open the door, Sorrellis shook her head and pointed to the front. “Up here, with me.”

  Diana gulped and obeyed. She sat down and admired the well-appointed interior. “Nice car,” she said.

  Sorrellis grunted and fired up the ignition with a few verbal commands. She spoke a few strange phrases, and the car began to move while she sat with her hands clasped on her lap. The car paused, then moved forward quietly and smoothly.

  “Shouldn’t you be steering?” Diana’s eyes were wide with astonishment, and she gripped her seat belt anxiously.

  Sorrellis snorted. “Yeah, five years ago.”

  Lyssa patted her shoulder. “This is an Optimus Five. I’ve only seen these in pictures.”

  “Nothing you’ll ever afford, unless you win the lottery, or marry way out of your league. I don’t have either of those problems because my dad is an RVP at ARCTURUS.”

  Diana frowned. “Never heard of it.”

  Sorrellis turned sharply to look at her, genuinely surprised. “No? Sheesh, what cave did you crawl out of? They make literally everything.”

  Lyssa patted her shoulder again. “I don’t pay much attention to that stuff. As long as it works, I’m happy with whatever it is.”

  Sorrellis shrugged. “Half the time, it’s not like you can buy something else if it doesn’t.”

  Diana was eager to change the subject. She didn’t like feeling uninformed or looking like a hick. They’d been invited out for a reason, and she probed for answers. “So, uh, Sorrellis…”

  “Sapphire,” she said.

  Lyssa let out a nervous giggle. “Your name is Sapphire Sorrellis? That’s, um, really something.”

  “You should talk, Dorcas.”

  Diana was taken aback. “That was mean. She laughed at your name, but that’s no excuse to call her dorkus.”

  Lyssa patted her shoulder and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  Sapphire sneered and swatted Diana’s thigh. “Her real name is Dorcas Hadley Delaney. Not sure how you get ‘Lyssa’ out of that, but there you go. You’re forgetting that I have access to your personnel files, you know, being support staff and all.”

  Lyssa sank into her seat and spoke into her lap. “It’s just a name I liked. I didn’t get teased as much when I started using it.”

  “Smart move. I should have done that too, but nope, Sparkle was my nickname right up until college.”

  Diana was wide-eyed at the revelation. “Why, then what happened?”

  “People were too busy getting high or trying to get into my pants to care what my name was. Then, when I wound up on the force, they called everybody by their last name, so I was spared from any more nonsense. That is unless you two want to start something.”

  “I like Sapphire. It’s… prestige.” Diana savored the word, triumphant in its use.

  “Huh? You mean, prestigious? I guess so. I think my parents named me after whatever luxury resort they conceived me in, or something.”

  Diana winced but tried to play it off like she had bitten her tongue. “Where are we going for this night out?”

  The car glided to a stop beside a restaurant, teeming with valets. One of them pulled open Sapphire’s door and bowed as she stepped out of the vehicle. Diana and Lyssa joined her at the entrance, and a well-groomed doorman in a burgundy suit and white gloves pulled open a heavy wood door with polished brass hardware. “Welcome to the Cotillion, ladies,” he announced.

  CHAPTER 27

  Diana looked around as they stood at the greeting podium. Sapphire did all the talking, while Diana gawked at the luxurious surroundings. Lyssa clutched her arm and pointed discreetly to a couple dining at a table near a bank of windows. “Oh my god, that’s Kent Brantley.”

  Diana frowned and nodded. He was better looking than she had expected. Now she understood why Officer Milton had such a hard time accepting her blanket dismissal of his chiseled yet rugged good looks. He raised a glass to his lips, and Diana turned away before she could be scolded for staring.

  The hostess pointed to a sign on the wall. “We observe a strict dress code here. I’m sorry, we won’t be able to seat you at this time.”

  Sapphire snorted and produced a card from her back pocket. The hostess read the card and nodded vigorously. “Let me see what I can do.”

  Sapphire raised her hand. “How about I tell you? Private dining. You have a room available, don’t you?”

  The hostess tapped furiously at a touchscreen display, then waved the Maître D' over. He stepped to her side, looked up at Sapphire, then at the touchscreen, and gave her a genial nod. “It will be just a moment. I apologize for any inconvenience. Perhaps your guests would like some refreshments while we prepare your table?”

  “Yeah, alright,” Sapphire said with a shrug. She waved Diana and Lyssa along as the Maître D' led them to an alcove at the rear of the bar as impeccably dressed men and women looked at them with disdain and curiosity as they passed by. Drinks were set down on their table by a waiter in a black vest, black trousers, and a white shirt, with shiny slicked-back hair. “Good evening, ladies. Can I get a name for the tab?”

  The Maître D' wagged his finger and shook his head. The waiter slipped his tab book into his vest pocket. “Oh, right. Of course. Just drinks, or would you like something to snack on?”

  The Maître D' took a step backward, and wagged his finger again, this time with a stern glare. “Oh, right. Of course. Coming right up. Sit tight.”

  Diana looked around at the dazzling bar. It was framed out in rich wood with ivory and gold inlays. Rows and rows of gleaming bottles stood along the ba
ck wall, and three bartenders flitted from place to place, mixing and pouring drinks. She thought the sets on Fortune and Desire were fancy, but they looked positively inferior by comparison. A tray of chilled shrimp was placed on the table, with silver cups of red sauce. Diana leaned forward and wondered what she was supposed to do with them.

  Sapphire raised her glass and waited for Diana and Lyssa to follow her lead. When their glasses were in position, she declared, “Girls rule.” She pushed her glass forward and clinked the edge of her cocktail glass against the others, then took a sip of her drink. She let out a satisfied sigh and looked at Diana. “Well, go on.”

  Diana wasn’t sure what was in the glass, but it had a strong fruity odor with an aura of something else. She took a sip and nearly spilled her glass as she erupted into a hacking coughing fit. Sapphire slid off her chair and waited for the coughing to subside. “Not a big drinker, huh?”

  “Just… swallowed wrong.” She coughed again, and tears welled up in her eyes.

  Lyssa patted her back and dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her napkin. “All better.”

  Sapphire returned to her seat and plucked a shrimp from the tray. She dunked it into the cup of sauce and took a big bite. She nodded and cupped her free hand under her chin. “Mmmph.” She jutted her chin at the tray.

  Diana coughed twice more, then gingerly picked a shrimp from the tray. She dipped it into the sauce lightly, then brought it to her lips. She took a bite, unsure of what to expect, and felt lightheaded as she bit down. “Mmmmmph,” she replied.

  Lyssa frowned at the tray but seemed to be spurred on at the sight of Diana taking a bite. She helped herself to a shrimp, dipped it, and took a small bite. Her eyes widened, and she nodded enthusiastically as the shrimp tore between her teeth. “Mmmmph.” She gave a thumbs-up before catching the tail end of the shrimp as it fell from her mouth.

  The Maître D' returned and waved them along to their private dining room. He raised his hand as they approached a woman dressed in a frilly skirt, a white sleeveless top, elbow-length gloves, and the tallest pair of heels Diana had ever seen. She curtsied and pulled open a wood door adorned with gleaming brass hardware, like the front entry. When the trio stepped inside, Diana was greeted by a single table, three chairs, and a bottle of something sitting in a silver ice bucket on a polished black pedestal in the back corner of the room.